I Fried my Hair

I'm sporting a new look here in France--French Fried Hair. Not Pretty. When I first plugged in my flattening iron (using the converter) it sparked and then the indicator lights on it went out. I figured it was a goner, and I would be wearing my hair with its natural curl being ever emphasized by the humid air. But the next day, after explaining to David my problem with the flattening iron, he tried to plug it in. The indicator lights did not come on, but he noticed that it was still getting hot. Aha! So I went to iron my hair, but something smelled really weird. The only available mirror in the apartment was in a hallway with no lights, so I was sort of working blind. "Hmmm," I thought, continuing to scorch my hair, "I wonder what that horrible odor is." Suddenly I saw smoke coming out of he end of the flattening iron. Not a good thing. I quickly unplugged it and took it to David. It was then that I got a clear glimpse of my reflection. My hair was all crinkly and brittle. I had hoped that after washing it, it would be healed, but that apparently was a pipe dream. Today, after washing and drying, it is still frizzy and brittle. Of course, only half of my hair looks like this, since I stopped when I saw smoke. Half French Fried Hair--a new look I will import to the USA. Do you think it will catch on?

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PARIS

Yesterday was our chance to give the boys a one-day whirlwind tour of Paris. After a great night's sleep, we rode the train from Chantilly to Paris Gare du Nord. From there we took the Metro to Ile de la Cite', and headed straight to our favorite crepe vendors where the boys ordered Nutella Crepes and David and I shared a peach jam crepe. Yummy! Warmed up and well fed, we walked over to Notre Dame. Chandler thought it was so beautiful that he asked if it would be considered one of the wonders of the world. I began to explain that the wonders of the world were all natural creations, when he reminded me that the pyramids in Egypt are a world wonder. Hmmmmm. Maybe Notre Dame should be in the running. Anyways, here we are with the famous cathedral in the background. Looks like a Christmas Card photo to me. All 4 smiling? That, too, is a wonder!From Notre Dame, we stolled up to Ile de St. Louis and ate lunch at a cozy little Italian restaurant. The Plat du Jour included an appetizer, a main dish, and a dessert, so we were once again well fed before we stolled along the Seine on the way to the Musee d'Orsay. This museum highlights Impressionism, and has many famous pieces by Manet, Monet, Renoir, and DeGas. It just so happened to have a Picasso exhibit on loan while we were there. Apparently Manet's "The Lunch on the Grass" inspired a series of Picasso paintings and carboard figurines. Very weird. Not our favorite. Not something I would hang over my fireplace, but interesting nonetheless. Graham, an artist himself, was surprised by how large many of the original paintings were. He has read extensively about these paintings and artists, so seeing them in person was a real treat. From the Musee d' Orsay we walked to the Eiffel Tower, which was dressed for the evening in a classic blue. We think the stars are adorning it in honor of the 10 year anniversary of the European Union, but we aren't sure about that. We did wait in the long line to ride the elevator all of the way to the top and take in the night view of the City of Lights. Shivering but smiling, we arrived on the top just as the flashing white lights did their hourly dance around the Paris Icon.
From La Tour Eiffel we took the Metro back to Gare du Nord just in time to catch the last train back to Chantilly. Tired and hungry, we scoped out a tiny pub that was still opened and ate our dinner at 11:30 p.m--a first for this family. It was not enough time to do Paris justice, but all of us look forward to the day when Paris is a familiar friend.

Today we did the Palace at Versaille, and there is a story with that one involving a large pink poodle and Michael Jackson--but alas, that tale will have to be told another day. It is 11:15 p.m. and tomorrow we will visit Les Cedres, the language school that David and I will attend our first year in France, and then drive 6 hours south to a camp in the Alps. We are engaged in every moment, enduring exhaustion, and enticed by the Lord in each encounter.

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We're Here!

I haven't slept a wink in 31 hours, so don't even begin to think that I will be witty or wise at this point. We'll just be happy if this post is coherent. Nevertheless, we are joyfully nestled in the Oise and have had a most fulfilling and enlightening (albeit l o n g) day.


Our flights were delightfully uneventful, and after renting a car and teaching it's GPS system to speak English, we traveled through numerous round-a-bouts to the home of GEM France missionaries Charles and Amy Cross. They have four beautiful children and have spent 7 of the past 10 years in France, so they know their way around! Charles had made appointments for us to meet with pastors from two different churches in the region with whom we may be working in the future. We were blessed beyond belief!



Our first stop was the warehouse-turned-sanctuary pastored by David and Corinne Rouxel. Theirs is a charismatic church that is passionate about reaching the Oise for Jesus. Though they spoke no English and we spoke no French, we connected through the patient interpretation of Charles and the presence of the Holy Spirit.


Next we went to the Anglican church pastored by Nick the Vicar. His is a 150-year-old traditional church building that is filled weekly by a collection of International English-speaking believers. He and his wife are dedicated to spreading the gospel to the expat community.


This is a photo of the Chateau of Chantilly--we just drove by it, so I don't know much about it, but we thought it was lovely! More later. Love you all bunches!!!

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When the Wrong Way is Right

Today we will drive to Portland, the first leg of our trip to Paris. For those of you who are geographically challenged, this means that we will leave our home and drive west for 270 miles, only to get on a plane two days later and fly east 6,184 miles. It reminds me of something I have been learning in my Bible study on the Psalms of Ascent.

Psalm 120 through Psalm 134 are the fifteen Psalms that the Jews would sing as they made pilgrimage to Jerusalem. Since Jerusalem is set on a hill, their walk was literally an ascent, ending with a climb up 15 stairs that led to the entrance to the temple. But these Psalms can also be seen figuratively as the Lord Jesus calls us up to higher places throughout our journey with Him. One of the great paradoxes of the Christian faith is that the way up, is down:

...whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be your slave--just as the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many. Matthew 20:26-28

If I want to know Jesus better, if I want to go to the high places with Him, I better embrace a servant's nature. I am not one to whom the gift of service comes naturally. I do not have eyes that readily see a need nor do I find it easy to act above my own selfish desires. I do believe, with all my heart, that I will experience a greater intimacy with Jesus if I will allow Him to change me to become a servant. I pray that God will increase my awareness of opportunities to roll up my sleeves and lend a helping hand. I pray that I won't miss out on learning what it means to "lose my life" so that I can "find it."

For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will save it. Luke 9:24

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The Many Faces of David Williamson

Last year, when we toured many of the great museums in Paris, I discovered that several famous artists painted a self-portrait. Some artists, like van Gogh, painted many. Some of you know that my wonderful husband is an artist. What you probably don't know is that he, too, is a master of the self-portrait. Today I decided (with his permission) to share with you a few of David's self-portraits. You will see how his self-perception has changed through the ages and I am sure you will be able to appreciate how he has grown as an artist.

Sometime in his early twenties, David created this likeness of himself. It was composed using crayola felt-tipped markers on a sturdy card-stock. Note the acurate stylization of the mullet hair cut that is so reminicent of the era, as is the single gold earring dangling from his left ear. Since it was drawn the year we were married (evidenced by the enormous smile on his face), we'll call this his romantic period.

Next, sometime in his early thirties, David moved to a photographic medium for self-expression. This rendering was made while actually flying an airplane. Note the "I-was-made-to-do-this" grin on his face, as well as the dramatic reflection in the sunglass lens. This portrait was made as David realized his call to become a pilot, so we will call this his enlightenment period.

Finally, and most recently, we have this picture which suddenly appeared on my cell-phone. Taken with my cell-phone camera, this poigniant moment of self-actualization is perhaps the culmination of David's greatest works. Lest you be completely dismayed, let me point out that David is missing the upper third of his left index finger. So this photo is more of an illusion than a reality. Still, it speaks to me. It speaks of a late-thirties man who has fought against the urge to become too serious as he ages. It speaks of a hilarious husband who is full of surprises. It speaks of a guy with perhaps a little too much time on his hands. And I don't think this period can be labeled. It stands as a work in a universe all its own!

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V-I-C-T-O-R-Y!

***WARNING*** This post is filled with shameless bragging and unapologetic motherly pride!

Yesterday afternoon the Southside Christian Lions Soccer Team won their first game 3 to 1! Yea! This team of 5th-8th graders is made up of about 15 kids, most of which have never played soccer before this year. They have had the additional challenge of having very limited access to any consistent coaching. Still, they have played hard and had a good time at every game. But no matter how you slice it, winning is ALWAYS more fun than losing--so yesterday was a blast!

It was an amazing team effort, and I sincerely love all the kids on that team. On the way to the game I had 4 boys in my car, strategizing about what they needed to do to finally win a game. One of the boys said, "Graham, today you are going to get a goal!" Graham had come close to scoring in several games, but had not yet made a goal. I think our friend in the car must be a prophet, because Graham scored not once, but TWICE! Two goals--joyfully followed by hand slapping by players on the field, wild rejoicing on the sidelines, stifled smiles by Graham, and me refraining from screaming "That's MY boy!!!!!"

Chandler made 8 amazing, heart-stopping saves. If you are a mother who has ever had a child play goalie you know that it is horribly stressful! I almost can't watch when the ball gets close to the goal...but then when he makes a save I just have to cheer like a maniac!

Perhaps my proudest moment, though, was when, with about 2 minutes left in the game, the other team scored. A defeated-looking Chandler went to fetch the ball out of the goal and give it to the ref, as I saw Graham running towards the goal. He said a few words to his little brother, and then ran back to his position. On the way home I asked the boys what Graham had said to Chandler after the goal was scored.

He said, "Don't worry about it, Chan. It's just one goal. You have saved a bunch. It'll be okay."

Brothers. Love 'em!

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What NOT to Take

Today David was reading the TSA (Transportation Security Administration) website to check if I would be permitted to take my knitting needles on the plane when we go to France. I JUST learned to knit today and I am loving it so much I want to be able to take my project with me. Hip Hip Hooray--knitting needles are allowed past security and on board the plane. But just in case you are traveling anywhere soon, I feel I should warn of the following items that are listed as prohibited:

Hand grenades, cattle prods, and spear guns are no-nos. I guess you'll have to put those must-haves in your checked baggage.

Chlorine for swimming pools won't be allowed past the checkpoint. You'll just have to trust that the hotel swimming pool has enough in it.

Beverages brought from home or purchased before reaching the security checkpoint in containers LARGER than 3 oz. will be confiscated, so be sure to bring your 2.9 oz water bottle with you to prevent dehydration. Don't worry, that will more than fill the cups that they give you on the plane.

Spray paint is out. I just hate it when I forget to take the spray paint out of my purse before leaving for the airport.

Canned Cheese is strictly prohibited. Do I hear an alleluia? Bless the TSA for confiscating all the Cheese Whiz that they can. See--they really are making the world a better place!

And finally, absolutely under NO circumstances will you be permitted to bring a snow globe in your carry-on. You don't want to even think about what could happen if a snow globe fell into the hands of terrorists.

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Dial-up and Diarrhea

I should have known that today was not going to go according to my plan when my "scheduled" five-mile run turned in to an abbreviated three-mile run due to a phenomenon known as "runner-rhea." It hasn't happened to me in a while, but it is a fairly common ailment among runners. This morning, right at about mile 2.5, I got the uncomfortable and startling sensation that I told me I was in desperate need of a toilet--and I was half a mile from home. "Desperate need" and "half a mile" are two phrases that should NEVER appear in the same sentence as each other when the word "toilet" is the direct object. I should know. I am an English Major. Anyways, the result of this predicament is another phenomenon know as the "Runner's Trot."

"Why trot?" you ask.

The trot happens when neither running nor walking is possible. Running does not promote sphincter control when control is of the essence. (I can't believe I just used the word "sphincter" in a blog.) Walking, on the other hand, does not get a person home in time when time is of the essence. So in an effort to keep it together but move it along, a trot is the only option.

So I trotted home, and let's just say everything came out all right. (groan)

Then I went to work on writing a grant and found that my Internet connection was down. I called David, who was at work (yes, on a Saturday) and told him that the Internet was not working and I couldn't do anything until it was fixed.

"You can't do anything? Nothing? You can't do laundry without the Internet? You can't walk the dog or bake a pie?" he asked.

Wise guy. The funny thing is, I really felt lost without the world wide web at my fingertips. What if I had a laundry emergency and I needed to Ask Jeeves. What if I needed a pie ingredient substitution from cooks.com? I think I might stop breathing if I don't have an Internet connection!

So we called CenturyTel, and the problem IS on their end, which means it won't get fixed until Monday! MONDAY?!?!?! That's two whole days away! I have grants to finish, e-mails to send, blogs to write, youtube videos to view--I CAN'T WAIT UNTIL MONDAY! The solution: dial-up. Yep, the DSL is out, but good old dial-up still does the trick. The problem is, it is so slow that I might as well wait until Monday to do anything because it will take the dial-up that long just to load one page of the Internet.

So today it seems clear that God wants me to slow down. Thanks to dial-up and diarrhea, I have had to let go (no pun intended) of my plans for the day and look to the good Lord for His. In the kingdom economy, nothing is wasted, especially not time. Today is a gift, and I want to accept whatever God has for me in it.

I best get to my pie making and laundry.

In his heart a man plans his course, but the LORD determines his steps. Proverbs 16:9

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Happy Birthday, Dad

Today my Dad turns 74. He is an amazing guy. A few months back, at my Writing Group, we were given a writing prompt that asked us to write about our fathers. I relished the opportunity, composing the following:

My dad is the kind of dad most daughters only dream of having. Of course, I didn't realize that when I was young. I naively believed that every little girl found her father's arms to be the safest place in the whole wide world. I assumed that every father made up love songs with their daughters' names, patiently tied their pretty sashes just so, and tucked them in each night with a kiss and a prayer.

In retrospect, I should have realized my dad's uniqueness back in grade school, when he would come and eat lunch with me in my school cafeteria. He would come from work, wearing his pinstriped suits and wing-tip shoes, and sit at a little table in chair so small that the knees of his long legs were practically touching his ears. And believe it or not, I had to fight to get to sit next to him because every kid in my class wanted to sit by Mr. Dennis, with his shiny bald head, rosy cheeks, easy smile, and warm touches. But somehow I didn't notice that mine was the only father who showed up for lunch at Locke Hill Elementary.

My dad is the father of five daughters, and never--not once--did any of the five of us hear him speak of wanting it any other way. He delighted in his girls so much that we were always confused by the sympathetic looks and comments he got from fathers with sons.

My dad loved us BIG, naturally instilling in us something that other people struggle to learn, which is to receive big love. Your-name-in-a-song kind of love. Love like, well, like God's love. After all, the Bible says that HE rejoices over us with singing. Thanks to my dad, that isn't hard for me to believe at all.

I love you, Dad--and Happy Birthday!

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Must. Blog. About. Debate.

I wasn't gonna do it. Didn't want to touch it. Couldn't even watch the whole thing. But I just can't let it go.

Sigh.

That's all I can do. It's either sigh or swear, and seeing as I now work at a church, swearing is out. So I sigh.

Sigh.

Did you hear McCain call Sarah Palin "A bresh of freth air?" Ironically, I think that's the best description of her I've ever heard. Can't wait to see what SNL does with that one.

Sigh.

Anyways, can someone tell me why Obama is so smug? His arrogance pains me. Yes, I think he's smart. Yes, I think he is well spoken. But I simply don't agree with one iota of his agenda, no matter how pretty he makes it sound.

Sigh.

And can anyone tell me why McCain is so spiteful? Why is he trying to sling mud? Doesn't he realize he's getting more dirt on himself than on his opponent? And besides that, I still don't feel like I have a clue about what his agenda actually is.

Sigh.

Lord, help us. Really. That is my prayer. Lord, help us!

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How to Shop for Clothes for Boys

1. Examine clothes that they wore yesterday. Ignore the dirt and holes, just note the size.


2. Go to http://www.oldnavy.com/


3. Select pants and tops one size larger than the clothes that they wore yesterday, taking their color and style preferences into account, but choosing only items that you can stand them wearing. You can try to sneak in something you really like, but it most likely won't make the cut. (I know. You have great fashion sense. So do I. But they don't realize it yet. That's why we have husbands that will wear whatever we buy for them.)


4. Invite boys to sit at the computer. Have them view the clothes that you have selected. Allow them to remove any items that they do not like.


5. Make them sign a legal document that states that they have approved of all of the remaining clothes and they promise to wear them until you decide to throw them away.


6. Click "purchase."


7. Clothes will arrive at your door in 6-9 business days.

This technique does not work for girls. I know because I am one, and I actually LIKE going to the mall. Boys break out in a rash if they are forced to spend longer than 15 minutes in a mall. Therefore, I am a GREAT fan of on-line shopping!

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One Year Ago Today...

...David and I were on our way to Paris. We knew it would be a fun vacation. We knew it would be an adventure. We had no idea it would change our lives. We planned a memory making trip, but God planned a missionary recruiting trip.

I can just imagine how God must have been smiling as David and I debated over where we wanted to go for our anniversary celebration. He knew all along where we we were going, and He drew us there gently but surely.

As we prepare to go back for our exploratory trip (in 17 days! Yikes!) we are so excited to experience France with the knowledge of our call. We pray for four pairs of eyes to see the French people as God does, four hearts to love the French people as Jesus does, and four souls to be united with the Holy Spirit for His purposes.

One day, we are Americans in Paris. A year later we are children of God called to share His gospel of peace with people who need to know His grace. Wait a minute. Isn't that the call of every one of us who knows the Lord? It seems our address may be changing, but our mission stays the same.

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The Pop-Up Plan

A few years ago, very late at night, I flipped on a TV show that was painful to watch. It was a reality show that followed a couple going out on a blind date. Throughout the entire show, little pop-up balloons would appear to reveal small but significant facts. For instance, when the guy told his date, "I'm a consultant," a pop-up might appear that said, "Bill has been unemployed for 5 months." It was a horribly inappropriate show.

"So why bring it up?" you ask.

I bring it up because I was wishing the people who produced that show would use their energy to produce the presidential debates. I was so wanting to see pop-up balloons that revealed the TRUTH as they each made their claims. Honestly, who can decipher anything from the "He voted 47 times against such and such" business. Why can't politicians answer questions directly? It is so hard NOT to become cynical!

The boys had a homework assignment during one of the debates, in which they had to write down the question that was asked and then each candidates' answer to that question. It was a torturous assignment, because as you know, politicians don't answer the questions in a debate. They just say whatever they want. My poor kids were traumatized, trying their best to do the assignment, but struggling to figure out what in the world to write down on their worksheets.

Oooo! I have an idea: Let's hook up the candidates to lie detectors while they debate! That would be fun. And have the moderator ask the same question over and over until the candidates give actual answers. We could offer bonus votes to the politician who tells the most truths and answers the most questions.

I really do love politics, but I long for transparency. I am thankful to live in a democracy, but I ache for a straight answer. I have not lost all hope in the system, but I am disappointed in how hard it is to find out what a candidate really believes.

Am I whining? I guess I am. I'm sorry. I'll get over it.

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Family Prayer Night

Every Sunday night we pray together as a family. We started this weekly ritual almost one year ago when we realized that God was calling us into missions. If David and I forget, the boys remind us. It is a commitment we have made to God and to each other, and we take it very seriously.

Just because we take it seriously doesn't mean we don't have fun. During family prayer we often find ourselves laughing uncontrollably, sharing private family jokes that no one else in the world would even begin to understand. No one except Jesus, who is clearly in on every bit of the banter.

Tonight wasn't really hilarious, though Chandler does have a knack for having gas at the most poignant moments--which is eternally funny to a primarily male household. No, tonight was one of those times when, as a parent, I dared to hope that my kids are getting it. The BIG it. The idea that living for Jesus is what it's all about.

As we prayed for our upcoming exploratory trip to France, it was the boys who made the following requests to their Father in Heaven:

"Lord, help us to have an impact in France."

"Show each of us how you want to use us."

"Keep us safe as we travel, but make us dangerous to the enemy."

"Thank you for all of our supporters. Help us to reach 50% of our monthly support by October 26th."

I have days when I feel like all I do is break up fights, nag about homework, and tell them to brush their hair. I sometimes wonder if they realize that life is so much bigger than iPods, Laser Tag, and Batman movies. I fail to see any hint of progress on issues of the heart for weeks on end. And then suddenly there are nights like tonight, when THEY minister to me. I was blessed by their faith, their boldness, and their sense of calling. Imagine what God might do through them! What He is already doing when they pray like that! Can't you just see the Father up there, sitting on the edge of His throne, slapping His knee and shouting, "Yes, boys! Yes! I will do it!"

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Obiden and Bosniacs

Even though I will not vote for either of them, I did watch the Vice Presidential Debate. What can I say, I'm a politics junkie! There were no big mistakes, much to the dismay of the media, who had been frantically predicting grand gaffes on both fronts. There were a couple misspoken words, which made me giggle. At one point Palin was talking about her opponents' voting records, and she called them, "Obama and Obiden." Suddenly everyone's popping up Irish! And then, Biden, the foreign policy expert, referred to foreign nationals as "Pakistanis, Afghans and Bosniacs." Oh my! I think that's supposed to be Bosnians, unless, of course Bosniac is the word for sleep deprived (insomniac) Bosnians or crazy (maniac) Bosnians.

But alas, I still don't know for whom I will vote. And some might say, " What does it matter? If you write in a candidate you are throwing away your vote." I realize that my write-in candidate, whoever he or she may be, will not win the election. But who wins is not my responsibility. How I vote is. God does not hold me accountable for the outcome of the election, but He will hold me accountable for the way that I vote. I love my country. I know that it is a privilege to get to vote. But I simply can't vote in a way that forces me to ignore my deepest convictions.

And so I will pray. I will pray for wisdom in how I vote. I will pray for discernment in weighing the issues. I will hold my personal beliefs up against the Truth of scripture and let them be tested, and if needed, changed by the very words of God. And ultimately, I will pray for whichever leader gets elected, certain that God is in control...and that, friends, is really the only hope for any of us.

The king's heart is in the hand of the LORD; he directs it like a watercourse wherever he pleases. Proverbs 21:1

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5 Randoms

Apparently there is this game among bloggers where one person posts 5 random facts about him or herself, and then any fellow bloggers who read the five randoms are "tagged" to post their own 5 Randoms. Several months ago I read 5 Randoms on a friend's blog, but I never got around to posting my own. So seeing as it is a slow news day, I figured it was a good time for my 5 Randoms.

1. Both of my children had the exact same birth weight: 8 pounds, 3 ounces. Unfortunately, I gained 10 pounds more in my second pregnancy than I did in my first!
2. The only full time job I have ever had was for three months between high school and college. I worked as a maid at the Residence Inn off of Kruse Way in Lake Oswego. It completely ruined me for full-time employment. I am still traumatized by the memories of things found in beds and bathrooms...I will say no more.
3. I eat 1/8 of a cup of plain m&ms every day between lunch and dinner. 109 calories of pure joy.
4. I plan to write in my vote for President this year. I am currently accepting applications from those who would like to get my vote. I can't bring myself to choose "the lesser of two evils."
5. I am a chronic insomniac. I do many things to minimize my insomnia, including running, eliminating caffeine after noon, and stopping eating 3 hours before bedtime. Still, I haven't slept in two nights. I have learned to rest even when I am not sleeping, which makes me functional during the day.
6. Okay, I know this is supposed to be 5 randoms, but I felt that my take on Pauly Shore movies should not go without mention. Then again, who cares what I think of Pauly Shore movies?

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My Drinking Days are Over

I struggled for days to figure out what, exactly, I wanted to use as the title for this post. You see, as of tomorrow I will be officially employed in my dream job: I will be the Director of Women's Ministries at my church. But a condition of my employment is that I must agree to abstain from alcohol. I should clarify that this is not a condition that is unique to me, all staff members at our church must make the same commitment. So tonight, in celebration of my new position, David treated me to a margarita with dinner as a sort-of ta-ta to tequila. A bye-bye to booze. An adios to alcohol. Anyways...tomorrow I'm on the wagon. Or is it off the wagon? Whichever means a teetotaler-- that's me!

Actually, for the past couple of years I have been doing much of the job for which I will now be paid--and it is a job that thrills me to the bone. I get to provide team-building and leadership development to women's Bible studies, oversight for a Christmas Outreach Event, and coordinate the women's retreat. I will continue to work alongside and to report to my dear friend and mentor, the Women's Pastor at our church. This job is so awesome, I won't even miss the margaritas! Not much, anyways.

My new job is for 19 hours a week, and I will keep one grant-writing contract as well. My church hired me knowing full well that our sights are set on France. I guess they didn't mind taking me on since they knew they wouldn't be stuck with me forever! Still, we are in Spokane until we go, and even though God is calling us away, He isn't about to have us waste away while we await our departure. We have one foot on the dock and one foot on the boat, and we must maintain that careful balance until God clearly tells us to launch.

Oh, and there's one more thing. I may have the option to become licensed as a pastor. Pastor Jenn. Hmmmm. What do you think about that?!?! Comments welcome!

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