Wordless Wednesday

Jeff

Baker Publishing Group mourns the loss of a colleague and friend, Jeffery A. Wittung. Jeff, one of Baker’s academic editors, was injured in a car accident on his way to work January 6, 2010. He passed away the evening of January 10. He leaves behind a wife, Marne, and two daughters: Ana (5) and Kate (1).

We at Baker Publishing Group will miss Jeff greatly, and we invite you to pray for the family Jeff leaves behind: his wife and daughters; his mother, father, and sister; his in-laws; and the extended family. They find comfort in Jeff’s faith and in their own, but their loss is severe.

Sunday: Strange Mercy

“You can’t conceive, nor can I,

the appalling strangeness of the mercy of God.”

—Graham Greene

Workweek 1 / Prayer Request

First week down. I commuted to work four days and the weather was only nasty three of them. Today I was able to work at home, which probably saved me the embarrassment of falling asleep at my desk. The mornings came very, very early this week.

Aaron ended up not going on his retreat because of some doctor’s appointments and things he needed to deal with. So he could stay with AJ some of the days I worked and get dinner going before I finally got home. Thank goodness! AJ did great with letting me drag her out of bed, bundle her up, and drag her out in the dark (baffling to her) to head to Miss J’s day care or to meet my mom. I don’t think she gets yet that we’ll be doing this all the time.

Going back to work at the same place I worked six years ago is strange in the way our whole life has been since moving back to Michigan from Oregon: The same, only different. Familiar, but it’s changed. Old friends nearby but lots of new people too. Really it was like being in one of my crazy dreams: I dreamed I went back to work, and you, and you, and you were there . . . and they gave me your old office but stole all the furniture except one of the crappy brown chairs and a pile of screws.

The first day was a lot of meeting new people and chatting with those I’d worked with before, getting set up on the computer, and regretting those shoes as I toured the building which is now much bigger than it was. I’ve also been gradually recalling the terminology and processes I didn’t use as a freelancer–how to set project schedules, how to do pre-production tasks, technical terms like cast-off and loose lines and Green Envelope. It’s like dusting off all that German I learned back in school (Kennst du Ingo? Ingo ist mein Freund.). But I was pretty much able to get right to work.

If it wasn’t clear enough that this is a good place to be, Wednesday we all got a reminder: someone from editorial was in a severe car accident on the way to work. We waited to hear anything at all, then heard he was in surgery and did one of the remarkable things about working at a Christian company: those who wanted to gathered in a conference room to pray for Jeff, his family, the doctors, the other person in the accident.

Like they prayed for me eight years ago when Aaron’s brother died.

Like they have prayed for so many.

I stepped in the room as they were already praying, and this struck me so hard I was immediately in tears. But many eyes glistened as we agreed For Thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory and the company president reminded us, “This is why we’re here. This is so much more important than what’s on your desk any given day.”

Please join the many praying for Jeff. They did surgery on his heart that day and are now most concerned about pressure in his head. Family has come from out of state to be with his wife and young daughters. Miracles have happened but he needs more.

.

More blogging soon–after I go catch up on my sleep. Ah, Saturday sweet Saturday . . . suddenly I love you so much more.

New Year, New JOB!

Sha-na-na-na, sha-na-na-na-na . . . I got a job!

Or rather, the job got me. I wasn’t really looking for it, but some opportunities you just don’t pass up. Especially when you really need benefits like insurance you can afford. I just had to get my ducks in a row (hence the photo) and find some blogging time amidst it all before I said anything here (the “40″ hint was for 40 hours a week).

This came about a couple weeks ago and I start Monday (when, most inconveniently, Aaron leaves for a week-long retreat). I’ll be a trade books editor at a publishing house. Let’s call it Family Religious Publishers for now, although some of you know its real name because I used to work there before we moved to Oregon and have been freelancing for them for the last six years. So they know me, I know them–heck, I even have my old office nameplate ready to slap back on the wall.

So I’m not really nervous about it, but I have had my freak-out moments over the last couple weeks because it is a total life organization makeover: Who will take care of our child? How will I get to work? How late will I get home and when am I going to cook, eat, shop, braid hair? I’m going to have to get up how early?

The job is about 45 minutes away from home, although I will be able to work from home one day a week. We couldn’t make that work with only one vehicle, so we had to find a second car. Obviously we needed day care for the Joygirl. Clearly my wardrobe has atrophied significantly over the last six years.

Day care: One of our neighbors has been extremely pleased with the in-home day care person she started using this fall. And my daughter has declared that she is marrying their son, so shouldn’t they spend some quality time together? Unfortunately Aaron’s schedule for this semester is terrible–more afternoon classes to work his internship and study time around–and the day care lady couldn’t take AJ late enough a couple days I would have preferred . . . but eventually we figured out how to make it work. I think. Thank goodness for my mom, who is helping out a couple days a week. AJ has spent a few days at day care already to get used to it and she seems to have enjoyed it and had no trouble at all saying goodbye to us, so I feel good about it.

Transportation: We couldn’t possibly pull off this schedule with one vehicle, and I wouldn’t want to commute in a giant gas-sucking truck anyway (except on snowy days). We needed to find a car that gets good gas mileage but is still comfortable for my 6′5″ husband and our budget. We tried various wagons and ended up with a 2005 Scion xB–the box car people seem to either love or hate (Aaron thinks it looks “badass”). It’s small but it’s funky, the interior is surprisingly big, and it gets 30+ mpg. (I’ll post a photo when I locate it under all the snow we just got.)

I wasn’t really ready to be excited about the job until I had those two major things under control–more like Good Lord, what have I done?–but now I’m ready to actually think about the working part. Freelancing definitely has some great advantages as far as flexibility. But it was hard to work at home with a three-year-old and honestly, I think I will appreciate her more and be a more patient parent when I’m not with her 24/7. I will enjoy working with people again and having a clear line between work at home. And after a month I will have paid vacation/sick time and the all-important health insurance. WILL WORK FOR INSURANCE.

Ready or not, publishing here I come!

Wordless Wednesday

Christmas Gatherings Roundup

Those not interested in holiday recaps may wish to skip this post–but check back soon for an announcement about these ducks.

For those who have not yet overdosed on holiday cuteness . . .

Our Christmas celebrations were spread out this year, starting two weekends ago when we all gathered at The Farm: the three of us, my parents, my brother, my sister-in-law, and my nephew “Tobo.” AJ and I went up early to get out of Aaron’s hair during his exam week of doom, so he missed some of the frolicking in the snow and the traditional turning of the house into a cookie decorating factory. Tobo and AJ together are a blast!

Saturday we did stockings and other gifts. AJ and Grandma have matching flannel nighties. AJ got a sweet ride for her Fisher Price Happy Family people. Ever attentive Grandma bought families of different colors and rearranged them so they look like ours (well, the mom and baby look like me and AJ; the daddy we call Denzel)!

Sunday my aunt and grandma were able to come over from the other side of the state, although for some reason I have no photographic proof of this (family members, help!).

Christmas Eve our college friend Chatterbox came to stay with us through this week. We slid over the ice to a nearby church service so we could light candles and raise our voices with the four-year-old standing on a chair next to me shouting, “REJOIIIIICE! REJOIIIIIICE! E-MA-A-AN-U-EL!” (which is the only proper response to the Good News of the Incarnation).

Then came the three Christmas Eve traditions: opening an ornament, opening new pajamas, and reading Twas the Night Before Christmas.

Christmas Day Santa brought all that had been expected (plus two light sabers, go figure): a sled, a new puppy backpack, Muppet Show DVDs, cheapo kid camera, and the long awaited and greatly anticipated–so much so that she was telling strangers in restaurants about how you get it when you learn to spit when you brush–big kid Dora the Explorer toothpaste. Best opened sitting in your sled.

Then we trekked to Aaron’s parents’ house to gather with them and his brothers and their families. Family pictures were only semi-successful but it is always nice to see the brothers together, AJ loved teasing the cat with a feather for hours, and the food was good and plentiful. Just enough fullness for one day.

Saturday night: annual party Aaron’s friend Gus has been throwing for we think 14 years. Fun times with old friends, plus white elephant gift wrapping prize win! Ain’t she pretty? (The contents were even better–who doesn’t want some ugly 1970s coasters and 2 giant bags of lettuce?)

And . . . if you’ve made it this far you deserve a hint about what has been filling my mind and days between gatherings. Ready?

Hint: 40.

More soon!

Be Born, and Save Us Now

A Christmas Carol For 1862,
The Year Of The Trouble In Lancashire
George MacDonald

The skies are pale, the trees are stiff,
The earth is dull and old;
The frost is glittering as if
The very sun were cold.
And hunger fell is joined with frost,
To make men thin and wan:
Come, babe, from heaven, or we are lost;
Be born, O child of man.

The children cry, the women shake,
The strong men stare about;
They sleep when they should be awake,
They wake ere night is out.
For they have lost their heritage—
No sweat is on their brow:
Come, babe, and bring them work and wage;
Be born, and save us now.

Across the sea, beyond our sight,
Roars on the fierce debate;
The men go down in bloody fight,
The women weep and hate;
And in the right be which that may,
Surely the strife is long!
Come, son of man, thy righteous way,
And right will have no wrong.

Good men speak lies against thine own—
Tongue quick, and hearing slow;
They will not let thee walk alone,
And think to serve thee so:
If they the children’s freedom saw
In thee, the children’s king,
They would be still with holy awe,
Or only speak to sing.

Some neither lie nor starve nor fight,
Nor yet the poor deny;
But in their hearts all is not right,—
They often sit and sigh.
We need thee every day and hour,
In sunshine and in snow:
Child-king, we pray with all our power—
Be born, and save us so.

We are but men and women, Lord;
Thou art a gracious child!
O fill our hearts, and heap our board,
Pray thee—the winter’s wild!
The sky is sad, the trees are bare,
Hunger and hate about:
Come, child, and ill deeds and ill fare
Will soon be driven out.

Wordless Wednesday

Wordless Wednesday: You’re a Mean One…

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