Resilience (or Ruth's Revenge)

So first thing after they moved in
the neighbors dug up Ruth’s old garden,
a front-yard oddity that had appeared —
shaggy, extravagant, sprawling — wherever
her springtime sweat cast its charms.

The new people pulled out
her spindly jungle of asparagus; tore up
the nasturtium border whose sensuous petals,
like mangoes, you could pluck and eat;
they hacked down six-foot sunflowers;

mowed over silky native grasses that flowed
on breezy days like a woman’s hair.
The little paw-paw tree they decided to keep.
They mowed around it.

Grinning and waving at us as we strolled by,
they spent a hot September weekend
digging and seeding, laying straw,
staking off squares of flat, potential decency.

The straw muddied, winds came,
snow fell then melted, the weather warmed,
and Ruth’s earth took its revenge:

A hundred tulips shot up
in the feeble spring lawn,
raising first their cocked leaves,
then their green, defiant heads.



(c) 2008 Debra Rienstra

The Pitter-Patter of Little Paws

It's been a whole week now and we're still giddy with the excitement of adding a new member to the Rienstra family: an adorable little canine fuzz-ball. Yep, last Monday we adopted a puppy.

She is a yellow Lab on the mom's side, and on the dad's side... well, let's just say there's a suspicion a Retriever was involved, but as sometimes happens with these situations, no one's entirely sure. Whatever stock she's from, she's loaded up with the "cute" gene.

Though I was initially lobbying for some clever/geeky professor-type name (Ophelia or Egeria or something like that), wiser family members insisted on something plainer. After much palavering, we settled on Maizey, not after the illustrated mouse, but as a nod to our alma mater.

So far she's super sweet and gentle, at least most of the time. She does have what we call her "crazy Maizey" moments, especially late at night, when she bounces around, chewing anything small, clamping onto loose socks and thrashing them into submission. But as a typical puppy, she also has her "lazy Maizey" times when she curls up in her crate -- or in someone's lap -- and nods off after a loving look and a little lick on the cheek.

We don't have much animal experience, but we've puppy-proofed the house, are reading lots of relevant books, and projecting our best calm-assertive energy.

Welcome to the pack, Maizey!

A Little Dating Advice

Mia turns 15 this week. That means driver's training, obsessive Facebooking, ipod-assisted parent ignoring, and (*gulp*) boys. Fortunately, the giddy terrors of dating remain, for Mia, largely unexplored as of yet. This is giving us time to slap together some parental wisdom on this perennially puzzling topic, filled as it is with risks, with unknowns, with new life and new civilizations.

Not being experts on dating ourselves*, we figure we need to consult the source of our most valuable life-wisdom: Star Trek. (Sample: never beam down to the planet while wearing a red shirt!)

Wesley Crusher, for instance, the ST character in the tender teenage demographic, has a couple of alarming encounters with "young women" who are not what they seem to be. In fact, many a promising space romance has been cut brutally short by some groaner of a revelation. Picard, Riker, Kirk, Bev Crusher, Troi, Jake Sisco--just about every starfleet character with a smidge of libido has discovered that love can bring, shall we say, unexpected challenges.

As with so many things in life, a lot of these complications could be avoided with some careful screening beforehand. So here we present the "Wesley Crusher Pre-Date Quiz." All Rienstra children will be required to administer this quiz to all interested parties before anybody backs out the driveway.

• Are you now or have you ever been a being of pure energy?
  
  
• Are you a psychic projection, a transporter reflection, or a sophisticated hologram?

• Are you a shape-shifter? (this does not necessary disqualify you)
  
  
• Are you ferociously guarded by a shape shifter? (this does disqualify you)
  

• If we innocently kiss, will I be impregnated by your alien spawn?
  

• Do you reproduce in some unexpected way that you really should inform me of right now?

• Are you a symbiont being, and if so, do both your parts agree in their affection for me?

• Do you only like me because I'm the first thing you saw when you emerged from your maturity pod? (this doesn't necessarily disqualify you, either).

• Do you, in fact, exist at this point in the space-time continuum?

Of course, in addition to this filtering system, all would-be suitors will also be required to cite, from memory, the first question and answer of the Heidelberg Catechism. Let's see Wesley's space girlfriends do that.

*By the way, not being dating experts and being Star Trek experts -- total coincidence!

Ream o' Fun

Yes, there have been some cobwebs accumulating on this blog, and now it's time to explain the neglect and brush the cobwebs aside (thanks for the metaphor, Mary).

After about three years of labor (sure, let's have another metaphor) we have at last managed to give birth to the manuscript of a book. It may or may not end up being called Worship Words: Attending to the Power of Language in Songs, Prayers, Sermons, and All of Worship. The good people at Baker will make the final decision on title. But it is a book about language in worship, and it has indeed been a collaborative effort.

Now that we've finished it (and quick--before it comes back to us for formatting decisions, proofreading, permissions fuss, etc.), it feels good to move on with life and maybe get back to all the other things that we have been neglecting. Such as blogging, raising the children, and even brushing the very real cobwebs out of the corners of our scruffy house.

Answer to Prayer

Back in 2002, Deb and I took a long hike in Colorado and discussed a crazy notion that was just beginning to dawn on me. Prompted by some friends, I was wondering about getting a Ph.D. I thought that train had left the station years back, and at my age and stage - well, it was too crazy. Well, maybe it wasn't so crazy. Was it crazy?

In the months that followed, we found we could not ignore the nudgings. They seemed kind of, well, divine. So we committed to everything it would mean to travel this road, including a two-year sojourn in California and other related adventures.

But all along, there have been many moments of wondering "Am I SURE this is the right thing??" These moments did tend to occur just before major papers were due or major bills needed to be paid. Always (eventually) I would return to the need to trust that this was right, that I hadn't mis-read the signs, and that it would make sense in the end. And often enough there was a remarkably well-timed affirmation that would make me feel dopey for having had those doubts in the first place.

Which brings us to today. Since moving back to Grand Rapids, I've been doing a bit of adjunct teaching here and there, writing and preaching, doing research, planning and leading worship. Oh and of course, there's that one big paper I still have to write. And while all this keeps me from robbing liquor stores to pay the bills or squandering my freetime on too much frivolity, it hardly seems like God would send us down this Ph.D. road so I could end up patching a professional life together from such bits and pieces.

Today, however, I feel as if things are starting to make sense. I am glad and grateful to announce something that I never imagined or guessed when we started on this journey: I have been appointed Assistant Professor of Preaching and Worship at Western Theological Seminary in Holland, Michigan.

I've taught several classes there already and it feels right to be at an RCA school, among my peeps, my tribe. I'm thrilled and honored that they're entrusting the covenant youth bound for their pulpits to my care.

But now I'm beginning to wonder if they're thinking: is this crazy? not too crazy, maybe a little bit crazy?

Mathlete

Warning: Indulgent brag-post ahead!

Everyone knows that athletes get all the glory. Even on this blog, we spend a disproportional number of column inches on the family's soccer exploits. Fortunately, those who love other fields of endeavor have their ways of shining, too.

Jacob, for instance, has become quite the Mathlete. Now, I don't entirely understand the allure of this extra-curricular activity. For me, doing math problems under time constraints in competition with others sounds like a hot little corner of hell. But Jacob loves it. And the good teachers at his school happily give extra time and energy to help their students excel.

So last Friday while Deb and I were driving to Chicago, Jacob was doing slide-rule calisthenics in the city-wide "Math Counts" competition. And of all the kids from the 23 competing schools, Jake snagged a 5th place individual score and an invitation to the state competition next week. We were pretty proud when the "Home Bulletin" from GRCMS arrived yesterday and we saw the write up on Jacob's achievement. Especially since last week's Home Bulletin also included a top-left write-up on another area of Jacob's scholastic achievement.

So here's to the normally unsung exploits of math and English lovers, the decathaletes of the calculator and the word processor.

A Weekend Snapshot

This past weekend, Deb and I temporarily experienced an alternative universe. We handed over our usual life to my good friend, one-time student and mentee, and present Teaching Assistant, Rachel Klompmaker. Rachel climbed in the mini-van and took over. Here's what her weekend looked like:

Friday night involved two soccer practices, two trips to the mall, and a late dinner of frozen pizza. Saturday began bright and early with a soccer game for Pip at 8:40, then a brief break before the afternoon madness: Jacob's game at 2:50, Mia's first game at 4:00 and her second at 7:30. Then Mia went to a high school dance with some friends. Sunday morning meant getting everyone to church, working around Rachel's early morning rehearsal for her own role in the service.

All in all, a pretty normal weekend at our house. Rachel found it pretty exhausting, although it must be said that she was doing this as a single, hardcore soccer mom, whereas we usually (but not always!) have two parental units to spread the love/load around.

Meanwhile, Deb and I lived the life of carefree, big-city, no-kids adults. Friday afternoon, we jumped into our hot little sports car (well, it's a GEO Prizm, but hey, we can pretend) and took off for the Windy City. Car wash: $4.00. Full tank of gas: $33.74. Three hours in the car with just the two of us actually able to sustain an adult conversation for the first time in weeks: priceless.

Once in the city, we met up with my brother and sister and their respective spouses in downtown Chicago where three of them work at Double-click/Performics, soon to be part of the Google Empire. We toured that particular iteration of Cubicle World and then went to a fabulous Chinese dinner. We aspired to big city night life: lingering over dinner talking about politics, Lost, careers, etc. We did, of course, discuss our children and their many exploits and accomplishments. One can't leave it all behind...

The next day I had a meeting of the Liturgical Conference Board (the ostensible purpose of our visit). Meanwhile Deb... well, Deb pretty much slept in, had breakfast, worked out, and read a little bit. No responsibilities, no logistics, no schedule: nice.

That evening and the next morning involved even more eating out, at a Greek restaurant (opa!) and a classic diner. And then,


it was back to our regular lives. Sigh. Still, it's good to visit another universe once in a while.

Elephant Seal Sweet Potato

Caption This Photo

Inspired by an offhand comment made at Calvin's Symposium on Worship, some friends of mine persuaded me to pose for this picture.

You may guess the phrase which prompted it, or make up your own. A few options to get you started:

• Ron is Riding his Homiletical Hobby Horse
• The world Meijer is my parish
• The Word straight from the Horse's...
• Penny for your Thoughts

Embrace Your Inner Geek

A normal Saturday night around here most weekends involves one or more of the following elements:

1. Driving back and forth to an indoor soccer game. Or two. Or more. At different fields.
   
2. Scrounging around in the cupboard and the back of the 'fridge to find something random for supper.
3. Contenting ourselves with whatever crapola happens to be on TV 'cause we're too tired to do anything creative and soul-nourishing.
4. Laundry--always the laundry.

I'm proud to announce, however, that last Saturday, we did something utterly wild and crazy: we had a party. Yup, it's true. With friends and party food and the whole bit.

Admittedly, this was a party with a geek quotient that was off the charts, but this will surprise no one. The occasion was the news that Ron passed his Ph.D. comprehensive exams, as described in the previous post. So naturally we invited people who would appreciate such a geeky occasion and who would consent to play games fitting to the day.

For instance, we had a "name that dissertation" contest. We divided into four groups and handed out a list of theological and academic buzzwords. Each group worked the jargon, and now Ron has four excellent dissertation titles to choose from. See the poll on the sidebar and cast your vote for your favorite!

Personally, I prefer the one about "post-post-post emergent nuhomiletic," but that's because my group, which included Jenny "Slash" Williams and Laura "Orthoparadox" Keeley, lovingly crafted it.

We also played "Liturgical Balderdash" -- a worship-wonk version of the game "dictionary," wherein Ron gave us obscure liturgical terms and we came up with proposed definitions.

Never mind what these words really mean (look 'em up if you must know). Here are some highlights culled from the group's suggestions.

Thurible -- adj. When the Maundy Thursday service goes south (speak with a lisp to get the full effect).

Synaxis -- noun. The mathematical calculation of snacks needed per person during fellowship time, taking into account hunger, need for energy (in terms of sugar), mood of hungry people, length or sermon, bitterness of communion wine, etc.

Insufflation --noun. The heavy sigh made by long-suffering congregants when the sermon is insufferable (this never happens at our church, Jack. No worries). It could also mean the sharp short inhale when the pastor makes an unexpected reference to sex (this -- maybe).

So all in all, the party was a success. The kids were having their own geeky fun downstairs playing "Settlers of Cataan"(the apples don't fall far...), but let the record show that Miriam and Lynnae hung around with the grown-ups, and they also gave every indication of enjoying themselves.

Let the record also show that while I refrained from switching loads during the actual party, I nevertheless still managed to get some laundry done on Saturday night.

Ph.D. "Candidate"

Whoo-hoo, it's time to Ce-Luh-Brate!!

I have received official word that I passed my comprehensive exams!

That means I'm A * B * D , baby!

(That's "all but dissertation" for those of you who haven't endured the torture.)

A big shout-out to to all of you who:

• kindly asked how the studying was going
• were extra special nice to me during November and December
• helped Deb out with managing the kids and household while I was "in seclusion"
• put up with mood swings from despair to elation, etc.
• lent me obscure theology books or assured me that the one I was looking for wasn't that important anyway

I'll now be engaged in a week's worth of celebration -- said celebration consisting mostly of crossing household-chore-type items off to-d0 lists that have accumulated since 2004. Anyone wanna come over for a seriously fun "replace the utility sink" party?

Karen Muyskens

We are grieving as a family over the sudden loss of our dear friend Karen Muyskens. Karen died early Sunday morning of a mysterious infection. The previous Sunday, we had chatted after church with her as usual, and now she is gone.

Karen and Mark have been our good friends for over ten years. Our children have played together often since preschool days. We have seen close up how Karen and Mark were partners in every way, as parents and professionals, as servants of Christ. They have inspired us and supported us very practically as we have tried to follow their wise example in balancing work and family.

Karen's life was too short. Yet it was complete in the honor, integrity, and beauty with which she lived it. She belonged, body and soul, in life and in death, to her faithful Savior. We are aching with Mark and the children, but we are aching in hope.

"The body that is sown is perishable, it is raised imperishable." I Cor. 15: 42