USPS: The First Five Months

I've worked for over five months as a Letter Carrier for the United States Postal Service.

I seriously never thought I’d see the day. People, delivering the mail is HARD. Way harder than you think. Well, at least harder that I thought, I really can’t speak for y’all as a whole, but I digress. What I can speak to is that I am much stronger physically, mentally and emotionally than I was on September 7.

For starters, I spent the week before Thanksgiving until the week after Christmas walking 13 miles in a hilly neighborhood carrying 20 to 40 pounds of holiday parcels and paper in snow, sleet, hail and 20 degree temperatures.

I spent the fall learning to parallel-park a right-side drive vehicle like a BOSS.

I have delivered mail on almost 40 different routes out of nine different stations in the Portland Metro and counting.  A few of those were on those super scary windy roads I was concerned about. I hit nothing and no one died, WIN!

I’ve seen little kids’ eyes light up when they see me walk up the stairs to their homes. I’ve heard snarky remarks from bartenders and office managers.

I’ve NOT been bitten by a dog, BUT I’ve had a few grab the mail from my fingers through a mail slot. I’ve been barked at PLENTY; once by a dog sitting in a house wearing a doggie snuggie. But let’s face it, I’d probably be barking, too.

I’ve adjusted to someone else telling me my schedule and changing it and letting me know at 5:30 in the morning that my start time is earlier or that I need to report to a different station. Yeah, I’ve adjusted, not well mind you, but adjusted nonetheless.

I guess what I’m saying is I survived thus far and I honestly didn’t think it possible.

There were days in October when I knew I just need to make it through this day to the next one, not the next week and certainly not to the next month.  I’d psych myself up with speeches like this one:
“Today… God will provide me with the strength for…today. Tomorrow will bring new mercy. So focus on this day, Sellers. Or better yet, this moment. We can totally get through this moment.”

I sang a lot, too. Mostly inspirational stuff, but sometimes when it’s really cold I find myself making up songs like, “I can’t feel my face. But it’s OK. Because my face was overrated.” It's surprisingly catchy, but I’m afraid it's more in the style of Nickleback than Imagine Dragons. Who knows what the neighbors think.

I listened to The Preacher’s Wife soundtrack and Oceans by Hillsong and Ember by The Groves and For Now from Avenue Q on repeat. I cried on Sundays, my one day off, as I thought about who I was and where I wanted to be and how most of this makes little sense to me.

And then it was the New Year. I had completed 90 working days, that insurmountable goal, and suddenly, somehow, things don’t look so awful.

Trust that I still have truly awful days. Like yesterday, when I was sent to the Eastside and delivered MOUNTAINS of mail, in 25 degree weather, on a route I’ve never been on, while 32 MPH winds whipped down the lanes and over the giant staircases leading to EVERY SINGLE DOOR.

But then there’s today; a short 5 hour day where I delivered mail in the snow, vehicle free, to my neighborhood and had time to work on my book proposal and blog.

And to this, I raise my cup and in thanksgiving I sing, “L'Chaim! To Life! L'Chaim!”

Yelling with Strangers: The Magic of New Year's Eve

New Year's Eve

I guess I could have stayed home last year/night and welcomed the New Year in solitude and contemplation; but that probably wouldn’t have been what happened.

I would have either A. fallen asleep before midnight because I worked nine hours at the USPS or B. watched the New Year’s Eve celebrations on TV and lamented my singleness. You know, because television and movies tell us something magical should happen on New Year's Eve.

Instead I contacted my friend Jessica, we put on cute festive dresses and we went out; first to dinner at Zeus Cafe where my friend Lori was serving for the evening and then to the Boiler Room for Karaoke. And that’s when it got weird. Not the normal partying with Teletubbies, Care Bears, Elvis Impersonators and Nearly Nudes Portland weird, (which I’ve done and can totally handle) but frat party karaoke weird.

I’ve done a decent bit of karaoke in this town and never encountered a crowd such as this. I’ve also never been hit on with such frequent ferociousness, either.

It started with Polish Matt whose actual name is much more European, as he said...repeatedly.  It ended two hours and six dudes later with Jordan who insisted he wasn’t hitting on us just before he and Jess got into a conversation about Jesus. Well, Jordan wanted to talk about sex. We did not.

Towards the end of the conversation he asked what else he needed to know. Jess said she didn’t know if it was strange to talk about this in a bar and then Jordan tried to launch into monologue on the weird sexual positions he prefers. In a successful attempt to redirect the conversation, I asked him what part of town he lived in.

What I wish I would have said was that what he needed to know, in addition to Jesus being a real person who once lived, as Jordan said, is that, “As crazy as it sounds, Jesus is a being with whom Jess and I both have real relationships. We believe that Jesus knows us, loves us, and gives us peace. You called us wildcards, because you couldn’t tell what we were about; what we were after. You were right, Jordan.  Unlike many people we observe in this bar tonight, we aren’t desperately trying to fill our lives with people or things that we hope will provide us with significance.

“Jordan you talked about not being able to really connect with anyone ever and that even though you came here with a group of friends, you don’t really know them and that’s why you’re chatting up two wildcards on the wall who have been observing it all. That has to be lonely. I hope that in 2014 you find peace, you find trust, and you find love...in Jesus…as crazy as it seems.”

But I didn’t and soon Jordan walked away and I told Jess that even though I had cooked up this plan, I REALLY didn’t want to ring in the New Year in this place and I’d rather walk to Pioneer Square in the freezing cold and see if other strangers had randomly assembled there. We left during the frat party-est version of Afternoon Delight, walked past women hula-ing electric neon hoops in Old Town and arrived with thousands of others at the square at 11:45 pm.

There was no program, no plan, no official countdown; we were all just drawn to the square, to the tree, to connection. At five minutes ‘til, a roar rose in the crowd. There I stood, with a good friend, in a crowd of strangers joyfully anticipating the future, shouting with glee over the possibilities. It was a good place to be; sorta magical, really.

They say what you’re doing at midnight is what you’ll do all year. This year, I can really get behind that.

Thanks For Being Lost

Sorry I haven’t written in a while, I’ve been lost.

When I started delivering mail for the USPS I spent a few weeks in a super hilly, sorta windy road, neighborhood. I was lost a lot. On the first day, in the middle of a neighborhood, around one in the afternoon, I stopped and yelled, “JESUS! I DON’T LIKE THIS!” And then, after a bit, "Help me. Please."

I don’t like not knowing where I am. I don’t like not knowing where I’m going. I don’t like feeling like I’m not in control/charge of my life.

A couple of weeks later it was Sukkot and in this same predominately Jewish neighborhood many of the families built Sukkahs in their driveways. 

I went home and pulled out my copy of Girl Meets God, the reason I know about this at all, and re-read what Lauren Winner, a woman who wrote about her journey from Judaism to Christianity, said about the holiday.

“On Sukkot, Jewish families each build a hut, a sukkah, to remind themselves of the sukkot the Jews inhabited while they camped in the desert for forty years…Today, the sukkah you would build might be an eight-foot cube, made from plywood held together with twine. You cover the roof with greenery (the covering is called schach, and it should be translucent enough to let in starlight) and invite neighborhood children to hang drawings on the walls. You eat all your meals in the sukkah, and drink all your drinks, and sometimes even sleep there. I miss Sukkot because it is while sitting in the sukkah that you learn lessons about dependence on God, that even the walls of your brick house are flimsy. The trick is to grab hold of those sukkah lessons and remember them once you’ve taken apart your shaky hut and resumed eating you meals in the spacious kitchen of your four-walled spilt-level.”

For the next week, I was constantly reminded that while the Jews wandered around mostly aimlessly, behind a CLOUD, with their life paths completely out of their control, for 40 YEARS, God provided food, water and shelter and sandals that didn’t wear out. So, I’m sure God can handle my current wanderings, both literally and metaphorical.

And I find peace in this, that is, when I remember. But that’s why God created Sukkot, so that we would remember. He knows we forget, so, in his infinite wisdom, he instituted an eight day feasting celebration with space and time to remember and then give thanks to the God who provides, both then and now.

Christians don’t typically celebrate Sukkot, most probably have never heard of it.Two of the other Feasts, Passover and Pentecost, seem to get more play, probably because of perceived closer ties to the story of Jesus. However, back in Jesus' day, this Feast was THE BIGGEST deal. And once on the final and climatic day, Jesus made this bold proclamation, “If anyone thirsts, let him come to me and drink. Rivers of living water will brim and spill out of the depths of anyone who believes in me this way, just as the Scripture says.” I think after seven days of living in booths recalling the old stories of desert life, hearing about living water would have been a PRETTY big deal.

Most days I forget that I not only have access to this fount of awesomeness but that it is in fact in me. When I remember, and ask Jesus for help or give thanks, I know I can feel a surge of life.

So, this year, I’m looking forward to Thursday’s celebration of thanks. Thanksgiving, it’s a pretty big deal.

Read more in Leviticus 23, Deuteronomy 16 and John 7.

Remembering That I Forget

My Christmas Tree ~ Portland, Oregon 2012

I live in that magical land where Christmas trees grow. Oregon is the nation’s biggest producer of Christmas trees and harvested over 6 million in 2011 and , sadly, I did not purchase one of them. Last year, I thought I was broke and would be gone too long in December to purchase a tree. This year I have a whole new appreciation for broke-ness and will be away from my home for a week but I am not letting this deter me.  My friend Belinda, a graduate student at Portland State, offered to drive me to a Christmas tree farm just outside the city to pick up a tree and to celebrate the completion of her finals.

As soon as I stepped out of the vehicle and onto the parking lot, I knew I made the right decision. The smell of Fir trees enveloped me and I shouted, “I LOVE CHRISTMAS TREES!” Thankfully it was a rainy Tuesday afternoon and no one else was around.

Belinda and I set out in search of this year’s perfect tree. When I first saw my tree, I impulsively burst into, “O Tannenbaum!” However, not wanting to make a hasty choice, I tied a bright red bag to a branch and walked on. Eventually after much deliberation, I chose the tree that inspired my song.

I spent the better part of a day decorating this tree; mostly because I’m a perfectionist but also because I’m sentimental. As I unwrapped ornaments that had been unfairly confined for two years, vivid memories flooded my consciousness and I remembered the refrain from a song we sang during worship service on Sunday:

Though the world may see and soon forget
We will not forget who you are and what you’ve done for us.

But do we? Do we really remember? I believe that humanity as a whole is fairly forgetful and this is why God instructs us in all sorts of reminders like the celebration of Passover, hauling rocks from the dry bottom of the Jordan River to create an altar and participation in communion. These acts remind us of what God has done and reinforce for us the promises of what God will do.

This year, decorating my Christmas tree, was one of those reminders. As I hung up the lights, circled the tree with a garland made of old silver Mardi Gras beads and placed ornaments on branches, I could not help but to recall specific things God has done for me and as I remembered I began to feel joyful anticipation for all of the things God is going to do. This, my friends, is worshiping fully.

Sing, Sing A Song

Elvis Thumb War ~ Nashville, Tenn. ~ September 2010

I often speak in sounds effects and song lyrics so for my first 12 months as a blogger all of my entry titles were song lyrics that continued to play in my head as I wrote my entries. To celebrate my success of one year of semi-consistently blogging, I’m listing out all of the songs and artists to which they refer.  Yep, I’m THAT kind of nerd.

Post Title: Song Title: Artist

1. Express Yourself: Express Yourself: Madonna
2. Ch-Ch-Changes: Changes: David Bowie
3. The Shot Heard 'Round the World: The Shot Heard 'Round the World: Bob Dorough for School House Rocks 1976
4. Dream On: Dream On: Areosmith
5. Blame It On The Rain: Blame It On The Rain: Diane Warren for Millie Vanilli 1989
6. Seasons Of Love: Seasons Of Love: Jonathan Larson for the musical Rent
7. So This Is Christmas: So This Is Christmas: John Lenon
8. Christmas Time Is Here: Christmas Time Is Here: Vince Guaraldi Trio for A Charlie Brown Christmas
9. It's Not Easy Being Green: Bein' Green: Joe Raposo for Kermit the Frog (Jim Henson) 1970
10. What You Waiting For: What You Waiting For: Gwen Stefani
11. I Say A Little Prayer: I Say A Little Prayer: Burt Bacharach &Hal David for Dionne Warwick
12. Would I Lie to You: Would I Lie to You: Eurythmics
13. Let Your Colors Burst: Firework: Katy Perry. (You can judge me. I’m OK with it.)
14. Fascinating Rhythm: Fascinating Rhythm: George Gershwin & Ira Gershwin
15. Little Things: Little Things: Good Charlotte & Little Things: Bush. (My mind shuffled back and forth between the two.)
16. A Time to Dance, A Time to Mourn: Turn! Turn! Turn!: The Byrds
17. Time Is On Your Side: Time Is On My Side: Rolling Stones. (This is a testament to how I sometimes mishear and/or misquote lyrics. And how for the entry, I liked my version better.)
18. Time Is Wastin', Time Is Walking: Time: Hootie & The Blowfish
19. They Say the Neon Lights are Bright on Broadway: On Broadway: George Benson
20. Life is What Happens to You While You’re Busy Making Other Plans: Beautiful Boy: John Lenon
21. Ain't No Mountain High Enough: Ain't No Mountain High Enough: Nickolas Ashford & Valerie Simpson for Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell 1966
22. I Sing Because I'm Free: His Eye Is on the Sparrow: Charles H. Gabriel & Civilla D. Martin 1905
23. Hazy Shade Of Winter: Hazy Shade Of Winter: Simon & Garfunkle
24. Let The Sun Shine In: Curtain Call –Let The Sun Shine In: Cast of Hair
25. All You Need Is Love: All You Need Is Love: The Beatles
26. The Weather Outside Is Frightful: Let it Snow: Jule Styne  & Sammy Cahn

Going forward, some titles may be song lyrics it the description fits. Like today. The Carpenters.