Simple Joys

This post is a tribute to the small but enjoyable things in life--artwork, incense, cats, wandering around the Napa Flea Market with my father while buying absolutely nothing. The first piece of artwork is my own. An art therapist came to campus to work with us on priorities, and that's what I came up with. The pencil drawing of my hand I wish I could say was my work, but is, in fact, the work of my friend Nicole Hubbard. She drew it last quarter, taking six hours to create it. It is now on display at the Rasmussen Art Gallery here at PUC.

Beautiful PUC

These are just a few views of the lovely campus I've been enjoying. The girl at the fountain is my friend Diane, taken as we were enjoying the cool dusk last night after a very warm day. The mummy. . . is me. Diane and I went to an Indiana Jones party, where before we were allowed to watch The Last Crusade, we had to complete three tasks. One of these tasks was to wrap up a team member in toilet paper and carry them to Commencement Grove. . . thus this very attractive view, ha. We had fun, no doubt about it. As you can tell, I've been spending most of my time out of doors--how could I not, with it looking like this? Visit me and see for yourself!

Mt. Shasta

The day after I got my wisdom teeth removed, my family and I began a road trip to Shasta with Christian Edition. The first stop was Placerville, and I so enjoyed seeing Grandma Anabel, Aunt Doreen, and Christian Edition again. CE presented us with a bouquet of beautiful red and orange flowers in Justin's honor. The concert was so inspiring; I actually felt a tear roll down my cheek at one point, and usually I'm so used to hearing the guys sing, it doesn't affect me like that. It also moved me to sing, and not just when I joined Dad at the piano--even though this probably was not the best thing to do, with my mouth still healing from the previous day's extractions.

The next morning we visited Justin's grave, taking great care to lay out the orange, yellow and red flowers beautifully, and to give some to Grandpa Leonard's grave as well. We also went to the Veteran's Memorial at the to of the hill, and looked up the brick there devoted to Grandpa Leonard. It was a beautiful place, which filled me with deep respect for all the men and women who have fought so hard for freedom. After a long while on the road, we reached Paradise, our evening concert appointment. As usual, I joined my dad at the piano for "Kids of the Kingdom," and afterwards, a lady actually asked me if he was my husband. Doesn't that just take the cake? I laughed and corrected her as politely as I could.

After breakfast the next day, we hit the road. Hills gave way to mountains until we reached the snowy base of Shasta itself, snow swirling all around the car. The parents of one of CE's non-singing members have a cabin there, and we shared an incredibly delicious meal there. I enjoyed it in particular, as it was full of a wide variety of soft things I could enjoy with my sore mouth. Somehow, my mother convinced me to go out and play in the snow like a child again, sledding and crashing with great delight. Giggling with glee, I convinced my father to join me in the snow, and we had a wonderful time--he's really good at sledding, actually.

I just really had to admire the scenery on the way to the evening concert in Yreka--the sun was peaking through the steel-gray clouds in the most amazing way, highlighting the volcanic cindercones all around. There, with all my CE uncles and the rhythm of the bus, I felt rather happy. The concert went very well, though I spent most of it outside helping get tables and the like set up. The night was cold afterwards, and we were all very hungry, but the restaurant we selected refused to serve us at that hour, much to our distress.

Fortunately, the next day was full of good food. The Mt. Shasta SDA Church was kind enough to serve us all a generous breakfast, after which Dr. Taylor spoke with me at some length. Wow, the things to learn from him--he had so much wonderful advice, while being encouraging at the same time. I did tables after the concert, and was deeply impressed by how incredibly nice the people were. We had a delicious meal, and then went on our way. We saw the mighty Shasta Dam, with its incredible expanse of concrete stretching from shore to shore of the Sacramento River. It was a truly breathtaking sight, it being twice the size of Hoover Dam. Dad and I also got out and walked the Sundial Bridge, a beautiful structure of glass and white steel.

That evening, as my dad came out and started playing at the top of the concert, I started to cry, realizing this may be the last time I hear it in a while. As the concert progressed, I couldn't stop, not even during "Kids of the Kingdom," of all things. I did not want to go back to PUC so soon, as the previous quarter had been so rough. . . but then, afterwards, as I spoke with another PUC student who had attended the concert, I realized that there are still good things to look forward to this quarter, and hey, I'd better enjoy them.

Now that I am back at PUC, I laugh that I'd felt that way. The weather is incredibly gorgeous, causing me to use every excuse to study outside. I got to see my parents yesterday, so my paranoia regarding that was also unfounded. My plans for the summer are falling together beautifully, with the first half studying Greek in Greece, and the second half working at Wawona again before I take off to Spain for the year. I know I haven't written very much from here, but that is all going to change when I start traveling again. I will also start posting pictures at random intervals on the blog from here, even if there's no post to go with them. The campus here is too beautiful for me to keep it to myself.

Sorry for the length of this one, and thank you for taking the time to read it. I wish you the very best, and hope you have many bright horizons ahead.

Jillian's January

Holiday Adventures

A belated "Merry Christmas!" is well in order, and I wish that to all of you with all my heart. I was kept from doing so earlier by a nasty fever that kept me at home for four consecutive days over Christmas Eve and Day. We still had a good time at home with the cats and a roaring fire, but it just wasn't the same without the joy of seeing family.

As you can imagine, I was quite ready to get out of here as soon as I recovered. I get terrible cabin fever (no pun intended), and it felt good to be on the road again when we took off towards Desert Hot Springs on Thursday night. We drove through the night, and arrived at my Spencer grandparents' house at around 8:00 AM the next morning. My parents opted to take a nap, but I can't sleep during the day. So, I had fun breakfasting with my grandparents, catching up with them and showing Grandpa some shortcuts in PowerPoint. When my parents woke up, we had a nice, big lunch with Walla Walla loaf and other tasty dishes in the company of my aunt Dolly and my two cousins, Tommy and Theo.

They left with Grandpa, and my parents, Grandma and I played that wonderful game, Hand and Foot. My father and I teamed up against Mom and Grandma. We lost spectacularly, but had a good time in the process. There's a family tradition that I hope never ends. I was very sleepy after dinner, but it was time for presents. I think I saw Grandma tear up over the portraits of my brother and I we gave them. As the family watched a 3ABN Christmas broadcast from Andrews University Church, I turned in early; it had been a very long day.

We lingered in Desert Hot Springs a while the next day, enjoying a good breakfast. Then, we headed to our hotel in Burbank, stopping at Hadley's along the way. The room had a beautiful view of the airport, and Dad enjoyed watching the airplanes take off. While he was at the rehearsal dinner for Krista Miller's wedding, Mom and I stayed back at the hotel. We had a good time, just the two of us, watching Dreamgirls and Music and Lyrics, eating at the hotel's grill. Over gazpacho and grilled vegetables, we had a very nice conversation.

After checkout the next morning, we brunched at the worst Marie Callendar's we've ever visited (slow service, poorly-done buffet, that sort of thing). Over this hapless meal (save for a really good pasta that actually turned out right) Dad revealed he wasn't feeling so well. When we got to the Eagle Rock Church, we found the place beautifully decorated for Christmas and for Krista's wedding.

As Dad played music on the organ for Krista to march in to, I was touched and awed at how beautiful she looked, walking next to her father. It was really cool to see that Nadine, who is wheelchair-bound by a medical condition, was in the wedding party as well. As the pastor recounted the way Krista had met her now-to-be husband, it made me smile to find that I'm not the only one with meddling friends.

My poor father was feverish, so we sadly opted out of the reception to get home sooner. Despite Mom and I's protestations, he drove the hundreds of miles through the fog and the dark night. I stayed awake with him out of sympathy, reading a book he had given me for Christmas. The sleep he got at home did him good, and he seems to be feeling much better today. I wish you a very happy New Year, with lots of joy. Or, at least, the patience to deal with whatever comes along.

Thanks, Family

I just wanted to take a quick post to thank all of you who sent me gifts or gave me a call while I was sick on Christmas Day. I really, really appreciated it and that was what kept me from feeling really grouchy about the whole thing.

Pictured above you see a small sampling of what I attempted to make at least one item from each of you. The photo was taken on Christmas Day, with a camera generously given by Grandma Sandi.

I really missed seeing you all on Christmas Eve, but enjoyed the food you sent back with Dad later on (I just had a piece of the pumpkin pie, oh my!). Hopefully, I'll see you all soon. I love you with all of my heart, and thank you from the bottom of the same.

An Epic Thanksgiving Journey

Enjoying two nights at home before taking off again, my parents and I set off on a Thanksgiving Epic Journey that encompassed Yosemite, Universal Studios, and Disneyland. The first night in Yosemite, we went over to the camp of my Spencer relatives--Grandma, Grandpa, Mark and Shirley--to enjoy a roaring fire. Mark and Shirley gave me some wonderful dishes, as they are replacing them with new china in celebration of their 25th anniversary, and I am very grateful to them. We gave my grandparents the customary recyclable cans and bottles they use to fund their travels, which they took gladly as well. We laughed, talked, and played a game of Hand and Foot before returning to Curry Village.

In the morning, I walked over to their camp again, where they gave me breakfast. Mark and Shirley took me out with them for the day, talking as we walked, stopping here and there for Mark to climb a boulder or two. Apparently, "bouldering" is a new climbing fashion in Yosemite that he's trying out, but not really liking. We marched through a meadow with an excellent view of Half Dome to the cover of trees with blazing yellow leaves. Emerging from this grove, we arrived at a smooth section of river where we could see Half Dome reflected picturesquely in the water. All the while, we had a wonderful conversation, which turned to caving. So, Shirley took me into one near Yosemite Falls. She had done it so many times, she knew it by heart, and it was a decent little cave. We stopped fo hot chocolate in Yosemite village, then returned to camp for Thanksgiving dinner.

With some preparation, the dinner was ready, and we ate it outside next to the fire. There were all kinds of wonderful foods--my Grandma is a wonderful cook, to be able to create such masterpieces from a trailer kitchen--rounded off with some of Shirley's wonderful pie. We agreed to meet each other at the Ahwahnee the next morning for breakfast, which we did. The eggs Benedict and hot chocolate were superb, and the dining room was already festively decorated for Bracebridge, a medieval dinner held there once a year. The conversation was pleasant, and we celebrated Grandma's birthday there.

We took a family photo in front of the Christmas tree, said goodbye to everyone, then took off for Modesto, were we picked up Grandma and Grandpa O'Neill. It was a long trip to Anaheim, but at last we got there. Lisa, Jeremy, Sean and Sam were already waiting for us there, and were kind enough to let me stay in their hotel room. It was exciting to see them again, and to share the fun of the next few days.

When we arrived at Universal Studios, the music in the background alone made me smile. Sean and Sam had never been to Universal Studios, and I enjoyed seeing their reactions as we did the Studio Tour (Grandma got really excited to see Wisteria Lane), the Terminator show, then stopped for lunch at the Jurassic Park Cafe before riding the ride. Drenched and shivering from this water ride, we enjoyed the effects demonstrations where my Dad got to voice over some film, very amusing. We warmed up a bit in the Backdraft soundstage; all the pyrotechnic effects scared me when I was little, but now they just make me happy. We nearly killed ourselves running up the three tall flights of stairs to get to a show on time, which drenched us even more. After enjoying a few more attractions before the park closed, we decided to have dinner at a nice, warm restaurant, Miceli's. The food was excellent, but all the better as it was enhanced by the flickering candlelight and singing waiters, whose melodious voiced enchanted me. Definitely one of the coolest restaurants I've ever enjoyed.

On Thanksgiving Day, we went to Disneyland. We enjoyed many wonderful rides and shows, the sort that only Disney can offer, and had Mexican food for Thanksgiving dinner. In the evening, I waited with Mom and Grandpa for the Holiday Parade to begin. This one, I loved--even the promo for the new film Enchanted, which featured the most gorgeous horse my eyes have ever seen, large as a Clydesdale, white with silver flecks. The castle was lit with brilliant silver icicles, so breathtakingly beautiful I almost cried. Afterwards, we we on the train to New Orleans square when for some security reason, it was stopped at Main Street. Because Grandpa was in a wheelchair, we couldn't get out at this station, for it had no ramps. So, we got to sit in the train for a half hour or so until they let just us ride to New Orleans square--very cool. From there, we were able to fully enjoy the fireworks, and my parents and I finished off the evening shooting aliens in the Buzz Lightyear ride.

It was hard for all of us to wake up the next morning, and we had to say goodbye to Lisa, Jeremy, Sean and Sam. My parents, Grandma and I returned to the parks and spent most of the day in California Adventure. There, we ran into some old friends of ours, the Andersons, and it was very nice to see them. I dragged my family into the Art of Animation building, where there was a special exhibit on Snow White--they had original artwork, reproductions of the cels, and all kinds of fascinating stuff that was very hard for my parents to rip me away from; I could have spent all day there. In the afternoon, Grandma took me shopping on Main Street while my parents rode the train. She bought me a lovely shirt and treated me to ice cream as the parade was going on outside.

Then, it was time to pick up Grandpa from the hotel and take him to see The Glory of Christmas at the Crystal Cathedral. The moon shone full through the glass ceiling as the singers, dancers, and creatures on stage and in the aisles told the story of Christ's birth. Grandpa loved the camel that sat next to us while waiting to go onstage, and I breathed in the scent of incense with pleasure. The airborne angels were as awesome as ever on their 30 mph flying rigs, and the music, especially "Let Us Adore Him!" sent shivers down my spine. The reading of "One Solitary Life" always gets me, and it was as powerful as ever.

The same bright moon shone over Disneyland and my parents and I returned to the park for one last time. Sipping mint juleps and eating fritters, Dad and I watched Fantasmic! It moved me almost as deeply as Glory of Christmas had, oddly enough. Looking beyond the Disney masks, it really is an awesome tale of the triumph of good over evil, of light over darkness. Just before the park closed, we rode the new Finding Nemo submarines. They were incredible, and it was very soothing to be underwater.

We made our way home on Sabbath, stopping at the San Fernando Mission along the way. The place fascinated me, with all of its artwork and historically furnished rooms. They had everything from plain chant in early musical notation to papal vestments, which were very cool. One room was devoted entirely to sculptures and artwork of the Madonna. This room fascinated me, for it showed sculpture and all over the world, portraying Mary and the Christ Child in many different ways. Then, of course, was the beauty of the buildings themselves. What I felt was a little overkill, though, was the Bob Hope memorial garden; such an ornate tomb, probably cost millions to build. But still lovely.

Arriving back at Modesto, Grandpa was in a generous mood and gave me some wonderful knives and pieces of jewelry that I look forward to using and wearing. He also gave us some persimmons, which my room mate fell in love with and forbade me to share with my Honors class--obviously, it must be a testament to his good gardening. Returning to PUC, things have been busy, but fun. I hope you had a wonderful Thanksgiving as well; I am thankful for you and wish you the best.

Caves and Campfires

After the rush of things to do before I could leave on Thursday, it was a relief when I was finally able to sit down in Jenni Rae Rubio's car and enjoy her company on the way to Fairfield. There, I had the pleasure of meeting the Ressegers' pets before the Ressegers arrived and we were on our way to Lava Beds National Monument. We talked pleasantly on the road until we stopped at a Panda Express for supper. I slept soundly the rest of the way--I must've been really tired. All the camp was asleep as well when we arrived, so I did not attempt to find the girls' tent. Instead, I spent the night in the warmth and comfort of the Ressegers' trailer, getting sleep that fortified me for the weekend.

In the morning, the Pleasant Hill Pathfinders were very happy to see me. We made quick work of breakfast, so that we could get to the caving as soon as possible. Suiting up in ragged overalls and bright orange duct tape, I conducted the customary "lights out" tour of Valentine Cave. As usual, it was a spectacular demonstration of both teamwork and teens who take advantage of the darkness to flirt shamelessly with each other, to my amusement. Then, we did Indian Well before attempting the infamous Buddha's Crack, discovered by the Pleasant Hill Pathfinders on my first caving trip. To my profound irritation, I wound up ripping a gaping hole in my tie-dye shirt in a rather immodest area, but at least I got out to the other side.

One of our girls, however, had worse difficulties. Lodged tightly in the rock, the group behind her had left and it was only me and two teens on our side of the passage, trying to figure out how to free her. Eventually, I had the smaller of the two teens go down to the trapped girl to reassure her while I went to get help. It was an exhausting effort, as it meant doing another difficult passage, the sidewinder, three times in the space of an hour, but eventually we got the trapped girl out and we were very glad to get some lunch.

Patching up my poor shirt with orange duct tape, we went out again to many other wonderful caves--portions of the Labyrinth, Hercules' Leg, Golden Dome, and Jupiter's Thunderbolt. By the time we got out of Sentinel Dome, we were exhausted, and headed back to camp for the evening for a good, hearty supper after changing out of our gear. As for me, I was glad to put aside my Greek flash cards, which I had been flipping through in between caves, for the Sabbath. Don Smith, coordinator of the LIT program, put me in charge of pulling the skits for church together. As the LITs gathered, I enjoyed doing this, then relaxed by the roaring fire.

The church service in Valentine Cave went very well--the actors obeyed my instructions and gave spectacular performances. Pastor Eddie Heinrich's message afterwards was really inspiring as well. A visit to the Visitor's Center, to Mushpot Cave, and the hike back to camp filled the time before Sabbath lunch, a sumptuous meal of pasta and garlic bread. Afterward, we went to Captain Jack's Stronghold, reliving history as we walked through the trenches of that battle between the Modocs and the US Cavalry that happened long ago.

Then, we visited Fleener's Chimneys, the volcanic birthplace of the park. I climbed to the highest of the jagged edifices where I could see the scenery for miles around and the depths of the chimney below. Surrounded by this breathtaking view, my mind wandered off to all the people I wished were there to share it with me. A visit to Skull Cave rounded off our Sabbath adventures, then we dined before suiting up for the Catacombs.

Descending into the depths of the Catacombs, the longest cave in the park, this year we were plagued by fewer navigational problems than ever before--I think we've finally gotten the route through the complicated twists and turns cemented, despite the cryptic maps we use. In the challenging Crossover we met Pastor Heinrich and a few other clubs going in the opposite direction, which was fun.

Returning to camp, we stripped off our gear, sat by the fire a bit, then slept very well as a group. In the morning, we packed up and left, my beloved directors kindly giving me more food than I can eat in this week before Thanksgiving Vacation. I studied for most of the very long car ride back, until all the subjects felt like they were scrambled together. At that point, I called it quits and just rested until we got back to Pleasant Hill. There, I left a headlamp and glow stick on Justin's bench, as a tribute to the one who taught me everything I know about the caves.

Anyway, I wish you all the best, and a happy Thanksgiving to everyone, in case I don't get a chance to say it before then. There's definitely plenty to be grateful for, and one of the best blessings in my life is each of you, my friends, family, and loved ones who make my journeys worthwhile. Thank you.

Do You Hear the People Sing?

Drained from an exhausting week, it was with great glee that five of us PUC students carpooled down the hill for an exhausting weekend to round it off. Dropped off at Pleasant Hill, my parents and I almost immediately set forth to Sacramento for a men's chorus festival rehearsal. Along the way, we enjoyed catching up a bit and they filled me in on the particulars of the Music Dinner on Sunday, which I would help them execute. Arriving at the Carmichael church, rehearsal was already an hour in progress, but fortunately, Dad's pieces hadn't come up yet.

At the end of it, it was sheer heaven to flop into the cozy bed of the same hotel we had frequented for Convocation and get the best night's sleep I'd had in a week. . . just to get up the next morning and go to another concert, of course. This one was at a Slavic church--it was quite an experience. The entire congregation spoke Russian, and the service had to be translated for us. They received us warmly, and afterwards, a church member, Natella, had all of Christian Edition over at her house for lunch. O, the food! It was like Thanksgiving with the Ukrainian side of the family, but less American-ized. There was holopchi (cabbage rolls), peteheh (a pasta stuffed with potato and cabbage), borscht (a beet soup), and many other wonderful Slavic dishes I can't even begin to name. Out of gratitude, Christian Edition sang for the woman who, in preparing the meal, had missed the concert.

During the final practice for the men's chorus festival, some of my relatives arrived and Mom and I enjoyed catching up with them. There were even a few there we hadn't expected, which was a very pleasant surprise. When the festival began, I was enthralled by the incredible sound of 99 mens' voices going at full strength; there are few words to describe it. Five men's choruses were represented there, and each had its own special sound, its own wonderful message. In this concert, many heard CE's new piece, "Jerusalem" for the first time--the excitement in the room was tangible, mingling with the energy of the song. It finished to a standing ovation as the choruses combined once more for the last few songs. The finale of the concert, "No More Night," was incredible; I have heard it sung many times before, but never so strongly or with such passion.

After this remarkable experience, it was time to go back to Pleasant Hill for preparations for the next day's showing of Les Miserables. There was an eager group of students there to greet us when we got there, so they were actually able to get some good rehearsal in then. To my irritation, my father decided to cut in half the oboe solo I had spent a month preparing; oh well, maybe I'll use it again some other time. We got home around 1:00 AM, the only time I was home all weekend. Just long enough to sleep, hug two of the three cats, pack, and take off again.

At Pleasant Hill, we were struck by all the usual bits of insanity that the morning of the Dinner brings--it was really nice to be able to help my parents with that without the distraction of being a cast member. I even had time, while the band was playing, to do some studying in my little corner of the gym devoted to the power point I was running. The food was another excellent creation--stroganoff, mm. The band was in fine form, bringing back fond memories of when I had studied those pieces as a student at Pleasant Hill and introducing new ones like "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band." Cheerily I bought a few bottles of the drinks for sale for my dorm room before the performance began.

First show was good. I was so proud of my smoke machine minions who actually set the thing up without me having to remind them. Clunky mistakes were at a minimum, and people responded positively to the power point--it helped them understand what was actually going on in the show. Between shows, I congratulated everyone on their good work, and had the joy of speaking with some friends I hadn't seen in a long time.

Second show was better, well nigh incredible. Sterling as Valjean was excellent, nearly making me cry in the soulful soliloquy, "Bring Him Home." Lucas as Javert was one of the most charismatic Javerts we've had. Shiva gave me a run for her money as Madame Thenardier, and Steve, as Monsieur Thenardier, was hilarious. My beloved friend Lauren really impressed me with her portrayal of Cosette; I've never seen the role done so assertively, with Cosette actually leaving the bench instead of waiting for Marius there--it was a welcome change from the passive pictures of her I've seen before. In the grand tradition of the Hardt family, Alex made for an excellent Marius, heartbreaking as always. As for the revolutionary students--few casts have ever been so enthusiastic as this one, and their rendition of "One Day More" during second show was, hands down, better than my year--thrilling.

So many students I was so proud of, more than I can begin to mention--it almost made me miss performing in it myself, and other alumni have expressed the same feelings. Returning to PUC at around midnight, even though I was faced with two tests and a gob of reading when I got here, I was really glad I had gone. That show touches my heart in a way few other things can, and although I've seen many casts perform it, it never fails to yield more surprises, more moments of wonder. The hope it expresses in the Finale is one that will always ring true--"Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise." This is the same hope that so moved the audience at the Men's Chorus Festival, and will forever be remembered as long as there are people to sing of it.

Do you hear the people sing?

Religion Dept. Retreat at Albion

On Friday afternoon, the entire Religion Department of PUC boarded a bus headed for the Albion Field Station. The conversation was pleasant, and I enjoyed getting to know other people in the department. Towards the end of the trip, we all shared riddles, which was a very entertaining enterprise. Once at Albion, I was delighted to meet a recently-transferred Theology major, Melissa--she brings the number of freshmen in the department up to four.

I got to give prayer for dinner, which was delicious. Afterwards, we had a very nice little worship. Back at the cabin, I was delighted to meet a wonderful group of women who sort of became my buddies for the weekend. I slept for eleven hours--obviously needing it--and ate breakfast gratefully.

Our church service featured a fascinating talk on being chosen. Then, we had sabbath school, which was a very competitive set of Bible knowledge games, including how to spell words like "Zerubbabel," finding where passages came from, and remembering such technical details as when the day of atonement is. My team was the smallest of the four competing, but we won anyways.

Lunch was spectacular, but I think I enjoyed cleaning up after it even more than I enjoyed eating it. This is going to sound really strange, but I had come to miss the feeling of operating an industrial dish machine--there's something about the steam and the high water pressure that I had actually come to love, oddly enough.

Once the dishes were done, a group of us went out on the river in canoes, enjoying the beautiful day. There are few words to describe the feeling of canoing up the estuary--the peaceful quiet, the scenery, the life. On the way back, a seal followed our canoe, its head popping up right next to us every few minutes. We affectionately called it Oscar.

Vespers focused on service, and dinner focused on really good veggie burgers. These gave us the energy to play really fun group games like Tall as a Tree, Widow, and Watermelon--all of which I can't wait to inflict on a group of friends or Pathfinders.

Then, while others retreated to corners of the room to play board games, a bunch of us had a great time playing Mafia until we were kicked out of the dining room at around 12:30. Wide awake and not wishing to retire, a group of us got together and decided to carry on our games outside. We walked up the road, but some of the girls got creeped out, so we walked back towards the water.

We actually walked out onto the pier over the water, and sat there, intending to play a card game. However, we heard a splash in the water that really scared some of the girls, causing them to scream quite loudly. Thus, our card game turned into a prayer meeting on the water. We shared praises and problems until we got too cold to stay outside with Oscar splashing creepily in the water and invaded the college's van instead, because it was warmer. Around 2:30, we decided it was time to call it quits and we all returned to our cabins to get some sleep.

Breakfast was magnificent, with egg puff and hash browns. We helped clean up the camp, then it was time for the bus once more. On the way back, we stopped at Navarro, a winery that sold the most wonderful grape juice, both white and red. The taste of it was inspiring, and the scenery that surrounded it was even more gorgeous. I bought a bottle or two of it, and am now irritated because I don't have a corkscrew by which to open it and to enjoy it. Go figure.

A few hours after I got back to the college, my parents came with my grandparents, cousin, and aunt and I gave them the grand tour of the dorm where I live and the library where I work. They seemed to enjoy seeing how it all had changed from when each of them attended PUC--there's quite a history here.

They then kidnapped me and took me out to dinner at Pizzeria Travigne in honor of my grandparents' anniversary--46 years of marriage, definitely worth celebrating. I was rather surprised to find a PUC actor working at the restaurant, but that just made the meal more fun.

Wish you all a wonderful week with lots of success. Please pray for the college; tomorrow, there is a meeting in Napa concerning the state of the Angwin Urban Bubble, and classes have been canceled so that the students can attend and stick up for the right of the college to not have the land re-zoned and turned into vineyards. This is a historic point in PUC's history, and it affects a lot of people.

Also, I am sad to report the death of Bozena Kozlowski, an office worker at Pleasant Hill whose children I had the pleasure of working with throughout the summer at Wawona. The community is reeling in shock, as she was a perfectly healthy adult, and this was entirely unexpected. Please keep her family in your thoughts and prayers as well.

Pathfinder Camporee 2007

After Greek class on Friday, my friends and I left for St. Helena, where we enjoyed some wonderful beverages and conversation in the only coffee shop in town. Since it was to be some time before Mrs. Abbas, my ride to Camporee, came to pick me up, we wandered the block, fingering fine yarn in one store, taking in the quaint beauty of some of the houses nearby, and trying on the most wonderful-smelling lotions and perfumes in a store that also sold sets of silverware that probably would cost, for a full dinner place setting, more than everything I brought with me to college put together.

Eventually, my friends left (having lovingly assigned me the nickname "Reverend"), and Mrs. Abbas came. On the drive over to Lake Mendocino, the most enthralling sunset enveloped the sky--a fiery painting of orange, red, and deepest purple. We arrived in the middle of a meeting, so I hung back with the Pleasant Hill director, Mr. Brinley, until it was over and I could go out to meet my unit. They had not known I was coming, and they received me with overwhelming enthusiasm, even making room for me to sleep in their already over-crowded tent.

In the morning, we prepared for inspection, as usual. Our unit received a perfect score, as usual. Soon it was time for the marching, and this time, I marched behind Mrs. Brandy, the area coordinator of Area 6. Then, we sat down for the church service, in which it was revealed that my 17-year-old friend Cedric had been serving as temporary director for his club, the Thunderbirds, for the weekend. Shocked, I joined in the applause for his achievement, but my mind was reeling with the implications of this.

I returned to camp to enjoy the usual wonderful sun-dried tomato sauce. One of my girls, Isabelle, taught me how to make a beaded lizard before I led the club through the Sabbath afternoon cultural activity. The cultural demonstrations were, of course, fascinating and delightful, but what impacted me more was when we were crossing from station to station. Unintentionally, found all of Area 6--well over a hundred people--following me; when I took a wrong turn, they took a wrong turn with me. Truth be told, this was a rather frightening experience.

My unit prepared dinner, which we enjoyed by the light of the fire--fire, which I have come to miss since living in the dorm. At the evening meeting, Miss Sonoma County (who is, oddly enough, a veteran of the LIT program and a student at PUC) spoke, which was interesting, and Pastor Eddie Heinrich gave a call. About a hundred Pathfinders responded. This deeply inspired me, and brought tears to my eyes. Afterwards, I sought out Cedric at the teen party, where he was wrangling his group of Thunderbirds on the beach. I told him that I wished to help his club, just as a volunteer on loan from Pleasant Hill--he should not have to shoulder something like that alone. He seemed grateful, and was even kind enough to arrange a ride back to PUC for me.

The next morning, I helped my unit break camp, and we attended the awards ceremony. We made a killing on Bike-a-Thon and our club got its 1st prize trophy for points. As usual, there was a spectacular rescue demonstration from the Coast Guard as well. I then said goodbye to my Pleasant Hill unit, and went on to the camp of the Thunderbirds, where I helped them finish loading. I enjoyed meeting many of them for the first time, and it was interesting to watch the dynamics of a smaller club.

We stopped to eat our sack lunches at the Hopland Solar Living Center, an optimistically futuristic project dedicated to conservation. There was a beautiful man-made lake by which we ate and into which two or three of the kids wound up falling. The rest of the way back was pleasant, and when we reached their community hall, I was fascinated by the space--it obviously serves many functions.

Well, since I got back to PUC, it's been very busy. Some of you will be glad to know that we got our car back, picked clean of valuables and windows shattered dangerously. Fortunately, insurance will pay for the damage to the car itself. Thank you for all your kind responses to the "Justin Day" posting; it really warmed my heart. Also, I'd like to thank the Brinleys for giving me food out of the goodness of their hearts--the cafeteria here at PUC is very expensive, and we only have nine dollars a day allotted to us. Thanks to the filming of a certain show called "We're PUC-Ites!" (check it out at puccast.com) I haven't had much time to eat there, though. I was kind of drafted into acting in the show, but I think I'm starting to enjoy it.

Anyway, I hope you all have been having a wonderful, low-stress, well-rested week and wish you the very best.

Justin Day

Monday, October 1 is, as some of you know, the birthday of my brother Justin who met an untimely demise three years ago in an unfortunate accident involving Peru, rain, and a rather steep mountain. On Monday he would have been 21 years old, and in his senior year in college. Instead of dwelling on what might have been, however, it may be better to celebrate his 17 years of enthusiasm, determination, and passion for others by doing some of the following:

1. Choreograph a fight sequence for stage or screen.

2. Practice falling like a stunt man/woman.

3. Chop down a tree.

4. When your friends start bickering, break up the moment saying, "Can't we all just get along?" in a funny voice.

5. Study martial arts.

6. Wear one of the following items:
Caribiner--whether or not it matches the rest of your outfit.
Orange shirt, or other orange item.
Long, black coat Matrix-style, or just anything black, really.
Boots of some kind.
Anything your girlfriend/boyfriend bought for you, no matter how it looks/smells.
Any bladed weapon/lighter.
Blue-tinted or Matrix-style sunglasses, whether or not the sun is out.

7. Know where your towel is, and use "42" as the Answer to Life, the Universe, and Everything.

8. Climb something--Half Dome is preferable, but a rock or tree will suffice.

9. Preach in a foreign country with dramatic gestures.

10. Perform a magic trick badly.

11. No matter how painful the injury, refuse medication.

12. Attend a midnight showing of something.

13. Practice a skill tenaciously until you get it right.

14. Be dramatic.

15. Hug a family member.

16. Protect the attacked.

17. Befriend the lonely.

18. Question authority.

19. Celebrate tradition.

20. Enjoy life.

Well, I hope you will enjoy Justin Day as much as I will--this is just a handful of the possible ways to celebrate. Whether you knew him as the Reverend, Beloved Tyrant, Red, the Bishop of Digne, Father, Macbeth, or just plain Justin, never forget him. May this day be a chance for you to enjoy life, as Justin wrote, "No Fear, No Regrets, No Holding Back."

In my prayers,
Jillian


PS It would be wrong for me to call myself the sole writer of this one, as my parents contributed heavily to it with their own memories of Justin. They deserve just as much credit.

Fusion at Mr. Gilead

Laughter and pleasant conversation filled the air as 380 PUC freshmen, including myself, boarded buses bound for a weekend of fun and friendship. The ride there was pleasant as Shaddai and I conversed in Spanish. When we got there, we all eagerly settled in and, after a brief meeting, were set loose in the camp. We immediately rushed to the zipline, and were the first ones to enjoy zooming through the glorious Redwood trees. It was such a delight!

Afterwards, we played board games in the cafeteria until dinner, where by complete random chance I met Diane, one of my classmates from long, long ago. The moment we realized that we had both gone to La Crecenta Valley Adventist School in third grade, we were immediately transported back to that time, and enjoyed recounting many fond memories.We enjoyed catching up until the evening meeting, which was spectacular in the volume of the praise band and in Roy Ice's colorful jokes. He had very practical advice on how to react to our new-found freedom.

Then, there was a session with our fusion group, where we spent a long time debating over what our group should be called--we never chose one. All kinds of names, some of which I'd be embarrassed to mention in these letters. The only interesting thing out of this fruitless enterprise was randomly meeting Jonathan, a guy who then proceeded to follow me around all weekend long. To his credit, he is an excellent conversationalist; I could've just used a little breathing room.

Breakfast the next morning kicked off a wonderful day with a delightful worship service and another fusion group session. They did some great mixer games, including a version of bloody knuckles that I enjoyed thoroughly. Then, they gave us Spiritual Gifts surveys. My results yielded few surprises. My top three categories were, in this order: Teaching, Evangelism, and Pastoring/Shepherding, the very things I wish to do with my life.

Our afternoon activity was Bible Treasure Seekers, which involved lots of running around in the rain while solving complicated clues. This was a good deal of fun, if a bit tiring, and our team came in 8th place overall, 3rd among the women. Not bad at all. We sort of chilled in our lodge, recovering from all the running, until dinner. The evening program, which focused on the importance of service, really spoke to me.

The rest of the evening was devoted to social activities put on by PUC's SA. The first was, to my surprise, barn dancing very similar to what I experienced at the Pioneer History Center barely a month ago. It was endlessly amusing to see these uncoordinated SDA kids with no rhythm try to hard to get the steps right. Some were better than others, of course--my partner stepped on my feet several times, but not too badly--but everyone seemed to have a good time. The other activity of the evening was a trivia game, which the girls' team won spectacularly.

One last game of cards in the morning (at which I lost spectacularly) rounded off a wonderful weekend. This experience really made me excited about this school year, and I'm looking forward to the start of classes with great anticipation.

NCC Convocation

Leaving the adventure of speaking for Elementary and Junior High Chapel (a lovely little piece about Jonathon and friendship), I took off with my parents for the long prepared-for adventure of Convocation. Before we could leave for Sacramento, even, there was so much to do--more certificates, signs, tickets, and loading music stands.

As soon as we arrived at the Sacramento Convention Center, there was more work to do--unloading the music stands, walking the space, and unloading the plants for the main set. When we dropped off the synthesizer in the youth room, I was deeply impressed by their setup, particularly the lighting. Downstairs the main hallway was even more impressive, with a huge, white curtain put up behind the main platform. Thousands of empty chairs stood before it, waiting to be filled the next day.

After a trip to the airport to pick up my grandparents, we arrived at the Carmichael Church for the Christian Edition pre-concert. There, I was given the task of handing out the programs. It seemed as though the entire department of education was there, as well as many Pathfinder leaders I had a hard time recognizing out of uniform. CE sang very well, and we were kept there late from a generous offering that my mother was helping to count.

We left as soon as possible, and ran a few more errands, including another run to the convention center, before going to the hotel. Morning came all too soon, and with it, insanity. When we got to the convention center to set up, the fire alarm was blaring; the smoke machine in the youth room had actually set it off. The fire department came, and soon we were allowed back into the building, the only regret being a lack of photos of the firemen.

Almost as soon as we opened the desk, the massive choir started coming. And coming. It was a veritable zoo until rehearsal started and the Sacramento Philharmonic Symphony arrived. Oh, the shivers down my spine! I hated to duck out and practice my scripture reading, but I had to do so. Then, there was the matter of renumbering the choir's bleachers with brightly-colored, extra-sticky Post-It Notes. The sea of neon green, orange, and pink notes was spectacular.

Then, Elder Pedersen gathered all the people who were to be on the platform for church and prayed with us. I hadn't realized I would be sitting on the platform, and that surprised me a bit. Sitting between Elder Pedersen and the treasurer of the conference (who, it turns out, is a great conversationalist) was a very surreal experience. I could just barely see my grandparents sitting in the front section. The hardest part of it, really, was the time-honored tradition of torturing people on the platform with hymns to which they do not know the words and not providing them with words. Lip-syncing was alive and well.

When I got back to rehearsal, it was almost over, and it was time to get the box lunches (provided by the SAA music department) for CE. Presented in beautiful black boxes, they looked quite lovely in the truck, and it was after Mom and I had started enjoying ours in the company of her side of the family that Dad came and took me up with him to the VIP lunch to get certificates signed--this was also very surreal. There I sat, at a table with Paul Stilwell (Carmichael's producer) and a group of people from the recording industry who, when I mentioned having seen Sir Elton John in concert, were able to tell me what it takes to hire him. These fascinating stories were accompanied by delicious food, and though I had to eat in a hurry (Dad left early), I made a point of thanking Mrs. Pedersen for it.

A good deal of the concert prep is a blur--lots of painful running around in platform heels and finally sitting down as a member of the choir.

The concert was incredible. After one or two songs, Carmichael stopped, turned to the microphone, and said in a cracked voice, "I promised my friends I would not speak too much tonight, but I don't think I could."

Oh, the beauty of it! Oh, the glory of it! Such a thing has not been seen or heard ever in the history of this conference, I believe. to hear the thundering choir--actually, roaring, as a mass choir should--and the tremendous sound of the orchestra was one kind of wonder. To listen to the words and to know that these were songs of worship, done for the glory of God, was another kind of wonder entirely. Towards the end, Elder Pedersen gave a beautiful call before the final number.

Well, afterwards, we took care of the cleanup as quickly as possible. There were to many people to see, but the ones I enjoyed seeing the most were at Bucca di Beppo's, the wonderful, crazy restaurant where we unwound with our family afterwards. There, the walls are covered with photos, everything is served family-style, and there's even a table in the kitchen, through which everyone must walk to get to the dining room. My favorite part of the restaurant was the Pope's Table, that actually had a papal chair, and a bust of the pope resting in the center of the table--very amusing. The food was first-rate, the company excellent, and it was a wonderful way to de-stress and recharge. In honor of my eighteenth birthday, they brought out a lighted silver candelabra around which they sang. It was all rounded off with a spectacular gelato, very good.

The journey back the next day was uneventful, and we were quite drained when we got home. The rest of the week so far was spent preparing me for college, where I am now. My room mate, Shaddai, and I are very comfortable here in Graf Hall at PUC--getting settled in has been easier than anticipated. Unfortunately, this morning I received the sad news that our car has been stolen. This is very distressing, and please pray for the car's undamaged return as soon as possible.

Music Adventure

It was quite a struggle to come up for a title for this last weekend, as you can see.

This "Music Adventure" started at the Carmichael Church in Sacramento. Father, fresh from the airport after a different rehearsal in LA, immediately got to work. There was so much to do before the convocation rehearsal could begin--from labeling the pews for seating to working with the vast database of singers. The seating sections were whimsically named "Peter," "James," and "John."

As we continued to labor away at the database, Mom and I could hear the wonderful strains of over 400 voices combined in the most glorious waves of sound. Ralph Carmichael, the arranger of the music and conductor for this concert, had a very elegant conducting style I enjoyed watching, when I got the chance. Even John Williams at the Hollywood Bowl never seemed to me to be so eloquent with a baton.

My mother and I, unfortunately, never got around to rehearsing with them. There was too much work to do. We still had a good time, though, as we listened to the music and saw friends we haven't seen for a very long time. Afterwards, Elder Pederson treated us to dinner at Piatti's, a restaurant with incredible pasta and desserts. Mrs. Pederson, Ralph Carmichael, and his producer, Paul Stilwell (who has contributed much to making this concert possible) were there as well, and it was a delightful experience.

So much better (better than even the hot bittersweet chocoloate cake with pistachio gelato) were the stories Carmichael and Elder Pederson told. I loved listening to them, especially to Ralph Carmichael, who is a very engaging storyteller.

It was hard for us to leave the good food and the good company to start the long journey towards La Sierra. Exhausted, I was out almost immediately and when I awoke, we were in Kettleman City to stay the night. The next morning, refreshed, we actually left on time and arrived at the La Sierra Adventist Church early in the afternoon to do sound check for a very special concert in which Christian Edition and Sandi Patty would share a stage for the very first time.

The concert gave me goosebumps. Christian Edition sang well, and on the two pieces CE and Sandi Patty sang together, they were amazing. I enjoyed the variety of Sandi Patty's music as well--everything from Southern Gospel to "La Via Dolorosa" to a wonderful interpretation of "A Mighty Fortress Is Our God." She has an amazing stage presence, a certain charisma and personality unequaled by just about any other female artist I've seen live.

Alas, it had to end and my parents had to teach the next morning. We said good-bye to my grandparents, who had come out from Desert Hot Springs to see Dad play, and started our journey into the night. It was 5:20 AM when we arrived in Bay Point, and my parents--God bless them--kindly allowed me to stay home that day, which I spent cleaning my room. It felt like an archaeological dig, finding relics of my past that sometimes made me smile, sometimes made me cringe. A well-placed match, I thought to myself, would work wonders. Despite this attitude, though, when I finished the room looked quite lovely, like someplace I could actually live. Too bad I really don't.

Well, I wish you all musical adventures as spectacular as these, and clean, beautiful rooms that remind you of places and people you enjoy. I encourage you, if you're able, to come to the Convocation next weekend--it will be, as the rehearsal showed, an event of unequaled musical delight.

Jillian's Journeys Blog

The end of my journey at Camp Wawona was the beginning of another journey back home--of working at the school for my beloved parents, of saying good-bye to friends as they go to college in far-off places, of cleaning up my house for a party celebrating the birthdays of my father, my great-grandmother, and myself. It amused me to read invitations from Camp Wawona staff inviting me to three different parties that night, none of which I could attend as I was hosting my own. The thought was deeply appreciated however, and I, too, wish to stay connected with the staff.

So, I make an invitation of my own. A little over a year ago, a small group of friends of mine who were frustrated at not being able to reach me on my trips demanded that I send out some sort of update to keep them informed. The resulting email newsletter, Jillian's Journeys, blossomed into a much bigger monster than they or I had ever anticipated, now reaching over 100 subscribers and occupying its own web page, jilliansjourneys.blogspot.com. Those of you who have subscribed for some time might want to check out the web page, as it contains photos and archives of past issues you may have missed. Wawona staff, if you go there, you'll find a written record of just about the entire summer there, plus photos of yourselves and the camp.

If you have never received one of these before, just email me back and I'll add you to the list. Likewise, I always love hearing news of what's going on with everyone else, especially those I don't see very often (Romanian subscribers, I'd love to hear from you, please; it's been a few months). Obviously, I don't expect replies from everyone all the time (it would be incredibly difficult to keep up with), but the occasional general news is appreciated. Pastor Elden, I've really enjoyed your daily devotional thoughts, and I actually look forward to them when I go to check my email.

Maternal relatives, thanks for coming to the party two nights ago; I hope you had a good time. Your gifts will definitely make living in Graf Hall at PUC a more comfortable experience. For those of you who didn't stay for the slide show, you can find many of the same pictures at the aforementioned blog if you're interested, under the July section of the archives.