Wert - day 1

Wert = Western Epic Road Trip

Friday, June 3, 2022

Got up at 4:15 a.m. The cats made one last plea for us not to leave them.  Shadow planted himself on Mike's suitcase

and Marty took over the sink so we couldn't brush our teeth.

Nonetheless, we left for the airport at 5:00. Mike left me with the bags to check in while he parked.  The one bag we were going to check was 54 pounds, so I had to figure out how to rearrange 4 pounds of stuff.  The first thing I took out was the Bible, and I said to the airport worker, "The Holy Bible is the weightiest thing I packed.  Is that good enough?"  She said it was still 2 pounds over, so I took out a couple more things.  Mike's carryon got flagged for inspection, and he lost his body wash and a pocket knife.  Meanwhile, the body scan employee gave me too many instructions all at once too early in the morning, and I missed the last one.  "Cover the yellow area with your feet, look up, put your hands in this position, and hold still."  I turned my head to look at her and ask, "What was the last thing?" right as it was scanning me.  

There was a scary moment on the plane when the whole thing jerked violently sideways and I think everybody reflexively grabbed the person next to them.  Mike told me that Venus rotates so slowly on its axis that two Venus days equal one whole Earth year, so Venus only has two sunsets and sunrises a year.  That blew my tired mind, and I said, "I bet everyone gathers around to watch those two sunrises and sunsets" and imagined that for a good five seconds before I remembered there are no people on Venus.  

We made it to Chicago, where I did my next stupid thing.  I thought we were going to gate C22, so that's where I went.  Mike marched right past and I pitied him while I was looking for a place to settle in and wait for our flight to Seattle.  He turned around looking for me, and I waved him down and pointed to the C22 sign.  He came back and asked what I was doing at the Minneapolis gate.  Yeah, we were gate C29.  

Made it onto the plane and walked through spacious, luxurious first class and into crowded coach.  I commented on the uselessness of the flimsy transparent curtain between us, and Mike said, "It's a visual reminder: don't forget your place in this world and especially on this plane."

I did something smart for the first time all day and put the salt from my bag of pretzels onto my cucumbers.  The flight attendant asked me what I wanted to drink with my vegetables.  

I tricked Mike into eating a celery stick.  He wasn't happy about it. 

I learned that the foothills of South Dakota look like wrinkly elephant skin from 36,000 feet in the air.  

Am I the only one who finds it a little ironic that he is studying the airplane safety card while reading his motorcycle magazine?  My seatmate was perfect.  Quiet and small.  We named her Sarah.

The wing on this plane was funky at the end. 

It was raining and 58 degrees when we landed in Seattle. We rented a 2020 white Kia Optima FE and drove to Pike Place Market, where we saw all kinds of strange sights, including a cute purple dog.

We got some tasty chowder.

You probably can't tell from the picture, but this is a steep hill and the black car has a hairless cat in the dash.  We checked into a Fairfield Inn and discovered another mistake: trusting the bubble wrap and clothes to protect the laptop in the checked bag.  The laptop is toast, so I'm blogging from the hotel lobby standing up with people walking by and a 15-minute time limit.  We are heading to the Space Needle soon.

Pics from the Space Needle adventure:

Museum of Pop Culture

Fake eyelashes stuck to the glass wall at the top of the Space Needle.  So many weird things in Seattle.

rotating glass floor

We need more "no talking zones" in the world.

These next few are at the Museum of Pop Culture

playground at the base of the Needle

Midlife adventure

I had my first singing lesson today from a professional  musician who goes to our church.  I walked into her house and was greeted by a Steinway grand piano.  It was beautiful. She said I could play it while she was finishing something else.  I was happy to, because I've always wanted to play a Steinway and also because it meant that I didn't have to start singing immediately.  It's the best piano I've ever played, and I loved it even more than I love my own, which is a lot.  I would have gladly played it the whole time, but the pro was ready to start the lesson.  

Mercifully, she started by saying, "Tell me your musical journey" which bought me some more time.  I told her the whole story.  Then she sat across the room and told me to play and sing.  I seized up and got sweaty and terrified because I don't sing in front of people, especially professionals.  I played the first song I wrote last summer and I choked out the words in my tight, seized up, terrified voice.  It sounded absolutely hideous.  I was embarrassed and looked down for awhile when it was over because I knew that if this woman was even still in the room she was going to have a horrified look on her face and tell me to get out of her house and never come back.  Finally I glanced over at her and she was smiling and saying what a peaceful, powerful song it was, and I said, "Can you teach me how to sing it?" and she said yes.  Just the fact that she wasn't writhing in horror encouraged me.

Then she gave me some tips, told me what to think about, how to hold my body, how to breathe, and she put her hand on the back of my neck and moved my head around.  She had me do some warmup exercises, tested my range, and asked, "Did you know you have a three-octave range?" I said I certainly did not.  I always thought singing was a gift you either had or didn't, and I always thought I didn't.  I'm starting to think it's something that can be developed if I work at it. 

So after all that, she told me to sing.  I opened my mouth and some strong noise came out right on pitch, and I looked around to see who else was in the room, because I've never made a sound like that before.  I looked at her in shock and said, "What did you do?" and she said, "You did it.  I wish I would have recorded it.  Do you hear the difference?"  Then she played the song I wrote while I stood and sang it.  Then she made me play and sing and gave me homework to do, and I'm going back next week. It was fun!  I refuse to stagnate into old age.  I want to keep learning, growing, and trying new things that terrify me.

John 18

The problem with reading straight through the gospels is that Jesus gets crucified four times in a row, and it breaks my heart every time. I've made it through Matthew, Mark, and Luke, and I'm getting tense as I near the end of John, because I know it's coming.

Thoughts from John 18: When the mob came to arrest Jesus, they said hey, we're looking for Jesus, and Jesus said, "I am he." At those three tiny words, the whole murderous crowd was blasted to the ground, and yet they popped back up and continued their mission as if nothing unusual had just happened. I had to stop and ponder that for awhile.

Then Peter cut off Malchus' ear and Jesus miraculously made him a brand new ear, and still the soldiers arrested Him. I wonder...was Malchus among them? In my imagination, he felt his new ear and was so amazed and thankful that he dropped his weapons and ran off to do something different with his life.

Then Jesus was being questioned by Pilate, who asked Him this humdinger: "What is truth?" and Jesus didn't reply. I wonder why. It seemed like a great teaching opportunity, but He remained silent. Maybe because He knew that Pilate wouldn't listen? Maybe He was too tired to get into it after a whole day of dealing with the disciples and the events of the night?  

These old rings

My poor wedding/engagement rings have been through a lot in the last 26 years. In the first few days of marriage, my new husband and I were playing football in the front yard, and my rings flew off when I threw a pass. We crawled around and pawed at the grass until we found them. 

About six years in, I was power-walking on a treadmill and banged my rings so hard on the rail that the diamond was knocked out of its setting. I searched for days, took the treadmill apart, turned off the lights and searched by flashlight, vacuumed the whole room and sifted through the vacuum bag, but I never found it. I was very sad, because I couldn't find another one like it.  We replaced it with a slightly bigger diamond, but I mourned the original. Here's the only picture I have of the original one:

About 15 years in, my wedding ring and engagement ring got divorced, for no apparent reason.

I had them re-soldered, and they remained happily married until they ran off together today.

I was at work, in the office preparing for my shift, and the District Manager appeared for a surprise visit to make sure everyone's following all the rules (one of which is: no jewelry).  I have butted heads with various bosses over the last year (I've had a ridiculous number of bosses come and go before the company finally hired a great one) regarding the "no jewelry" rule.  I don't wear earring, necklaces, bracelets, or gaudy rings.  The only thing I wear is my wedding ring, which I don't consider jewelry, but a covenant.  My current fantastic boss never says a thing about it.  I show up on time, do a good job, and he overlooks little things. 

But the DM does not, so as soon as he popped in, I slipped my covenant off and did a fancy little sleight of hand to distract him while I pocketed it in an insecure side pocket of my pants.  By the time I got home, it was gone. I called the office and my aforementioned fantastic boss scoured the whole place for it but didn't find it. 

I haven't totally given up on finding it, but I've lost enough hope to start making an alternate plan.  My great-grandma wanted me to have her wedding band, so she gave it to me decades ago.  I thought this would be a good time to get it sized to fit me.  

Update the next day:  My awesome boss just called me and said, "Guess what I'm holding in my hand?"  Apparently the custodial staff found it late last night when they were sweeping! Praise the Lord!

Electricity

Several weeks ago, I was praying and asking God to use me as a conduit of His love to those who need to know it.  I didn't like the sound of the word "conduit", so I nerdily looked up synonyms.  The thesaurus offered me even less appropriate options, such as "ditch" and "gutter".  I decided maybe "conduit" wasn't so bad after all, so I did some nerdy research on it and learned:

• It's a tube used to protect and route electricity. (Yes, Lord, use me to protect and route Your love.)

• Metal conduit can be used to shield sensitive circuits from electromagnetic interference. (Use me to shield sensitive people from demonic interference.)

• It can be rigid or flexible. (Make me rigid when I need to be and flexible when I need to be.)

• Conduit may be installed underground between buildings, structures, or devices to allow installation of power and communication cables.(Use me to connect You to people for the purpose of sharing your communication and power.)

And then yesterday, I was sitting at the piano, and God started writing a song about being grounded in Him. I knew He was talking about electrical grounding, and I had only a vague notion of this term, so I nerdily looked it up.  This is what I learned about grounding:

• If there is a problem with the wiring, grounding provides a direct pathway to the ground and prevent power surges that can invite electrical hazards.(God is my safe place.  I can connect to Him in times of trouble.)

• In an electric circuit, there is an active wire which supplies the power, a neutral wire which carries that current back, and a ‘grounding wire’ which provides an additional path for electrical current to return safely to the ground without causing danger to anyone. (He is both my power source and my place of safety.)

• Grounding protects against electrical overload. It makes it easier to distribute the right amount of power at the right places.  (He gives me all the power I need, but He won't overload me.)

• When you do not ground your electrical system, you put your appliances and even your life at high risk.  An excessive amount of electricity may damage your appliances or even start a fire, putting your property and the life of your loved ones at risk. (I want God's power to start a fire in me, but I trust Him to ground me also, so that I and those around me aren't damaged).

• To check if the electrical system is grounded or not, check that your system has three wires, one of which will be a grounding wire. (God is three in one: Father, Son, Holy Spirit.)

Then last night at my Agape class, one of my fellow students gave me this prophetic word:

He sees you like a dynamo that is slowly turning and increasing in speed and power. He sees you increasing the energy produced for the Kingdom to a point where it will outgrow your ability to contain it. It will then spill out of you. The increase in energy will enable you to produce more and more. It’s actually better than a perpetual motion machine in that it doesn’t just maintain, but increases. It may be an outpouring of Jn 14: 12-14. Are you ready for it? He will not overwhelm you, but it will be more than you can do on your own strength, to rely more on Him.

I had no clue what a dynamo is, so you know what I did.  I researched it.  And this is what I learned:

• When the coil is stationary, no voltage is induced. But when the coil is rotated it experiences a changing magnetic field. This induces a voltage within the coil. (I don't produce anything useful if I am stagnant.)

• The spinning coil of the dynamo is connected to the circuit that it powers using a commutator, which is permanently attached to one end of the rotating coil, and the commutator rotates with the coil. (I must be attached to God and move with Him to produce power.)

• The commutator performs another very important function. It keeps the dynamo's generated voltage from alternating between positive and negative. It ensures that the voltage produced by the dynamo is no longer fluctuating between positive and negative, but is instead always positive. (Yes!!)

So I asked the Lord, "Why are you speaking to me in electrical terms? You know I know nothing about electricity.” He said, “If I spoke to you in terms you were familiar with, you wouldn't look them up and experience the wonder of discovery, like the excitement of a child learning something for the first time.”

Then He and I got busy working on that song He'd started the day before.  Here's how it's going so far: 

I wanna be a dynamo for You
Make me Your dynamo
Set me afire, electrify me
Make me your dynamo

Spin me around; rotate in sync with me.
Electrify me with Your kingdom power
'til I can't contain it anymore

Radiate from me positive energy
Build up in me Your currency
Let's make electricity

But keep me grounded in You
Be my source and my shield
Be my steady rock, my constant flame
Lord, keep me grounded in You.

Click on this link to hear the melody: Dynamo

P.S.--I thought I was done with this post, but a connection was made in my brain at 4:00 a.m. this morning, so I have to add on a little bit and change the song slightly.  When we were worshipping Sunday night at class, I had a vision of a rock with flames on it but it wasn't being burned or even charred. I didn't know what it meant, but I kept seeing it.  I asked the Holy Spirit what it was, but I didn't hear anything, so I forgot about it until the wee hours of this morning when I realized He was showing me a visual of all that He was saying to me about being on fire but remaining grounded.  The fire represents His power and passion that I want to burn in me, and the rock represents His safety and stability that won't let the fire damage me or others around me.

Update on this old piano!

 I whined to my awesome husband about my stuck piano key, and he got right on it.  He methodically investigated every possibility, gradually taking off more parts of the piano until he figured it out and fixed it.  He was like an FAA crash investigator, and it was fun to watch.  We both learned a lot about the amazing inner workings of the piano.  What a simple, yet intricate instrument!  I have a whole new appreciation for it and for him. 

For those interested in the cause of the crash....the whole thing was my fault.  I picked up my big heavy water bottle while I was standing over the piano, and the handle of the bottle broke off in my hand.  The bottle dropped directly onto the G# key, broke it off, and sent it flying by my head and across the room , while water soaked down into the keys. I let an expletive fly and grabbed a towel and did my best to sop up the water I could see, but it was good that Mike took out that section of keys, because the wood underneath was still wet and would have gotten moldy.  So water had gotten into the tiny felt strips in the hole of the F# key, and the brick mashed the soggy felt into a lump that caused the key to stick.

This Old Piano

I wish this piano could talk. I'd love to hear the stories she could tell.  My dad's mom bought her when my dad was young, so he thinks she's at least 80 years old.  She was nice and new at the time.  Since then, she's been moved several times and abused in all kinds of ways.  Her keys are chipped,

her sound board is cracked,

she's out of tune and can't be tuned because of the cracked sound board, her front panel is broken from where Noah crashed his remote control monster truck into her years ago. 

 I had two estimates from professionals on what it would take to restore her. They both said I have two options: play her until she dies, or put thousands of dollars into her to fix her.  She's really not worth anything monetarily, because nobody wants old upright pianos anymore, but she is precious to me.  

My dad and my brother and I all learned to play on this piano.  I have spent countless hours playing her, by compulsion when I was a kid and from pure delight as an adult.  I have played lots of pianos, including good quality grand pianos, but this one has always been my favorite.  I've never played one that feels as good as mine.  The sound is wonderful (except that it's out of tune).  My fingers feel at home on her keys, while they feel like guests on any other keys.  

Today, I invited a few friends over to worship.  I was supposed to play the piano for this little party, and the devil didn't want that to happen, so half an hour before they were to arrive, my G# key broke off.  

I scrambled to get it glued back on and put a brick on it to stick it down and hopefully get dried in time.

Sure enough, it was perfectly fine, and I thought I won the battle, but no.  The devil had another trick up his sleeve.  The F# key, which is absolutely crucial to most of the songs I play, was stuck from being under the brick next to the broken key. I have to manually lift it up each time I want to play it, and then after I play it, it's stuck down again. 

 My poor piano is dying a slow, painful death, and I'm in mourning.