Then we took a weekend, for parental bonding

Since those parents of mine were in town, I figured I'd better spend some time with them as defense wore into weekend.

After that small season of dissertation crazy, after all, some bonding and some soul singing were seriously in order.

Hence, Friday morning found us leisuring our way to a Waffle Shop breakfast before wandering through downtown's farmers market, 

where this lovely little lavender called my name. 

[My soul was singing, do you even need to ask?]

Then, we climbed in a car and over a mountain,

to continue the bonding and to find our next moment:

A little country store designed for 

the mother's leisurely [long] browsing pleasure,

where she could gather up "little things" to her soul's content.

[See? Singing.]

Not forgetting the [patient] father, 

the outside drew him to some singing of his own:

Give the man some crops to analyze and his soul can sing for days.

We climbed back into the car, 

my favorite kind of lunch whipping its way through my aforementioned soul, and returned home, for leisurely being, dinner making, and movie watching.

The next day provided more opportunity 

for the bonding and the singing,

in the form of broken blinds,

[Give him something to fix and forget days--he's set for life...]

 my precious NJ bagels,

food preparation,

and a variety of dear ones gathered around my table.

And, just in case you're starting to think that there was a ban on laughter in all of this bonding and soul business, you should know:

in the Kooistra way of doing things, it's all inclusive.

There was a blur, and I became a Dr.

Have you ever heard of the word "blur"?  

Well, I've both heard of it and I've experienced it.

Here's what happened.

My parents arrived at my house.

They took my picture.

We drove to a building, loaded down with 500 containers of cookies, and a laptop.

Suddenly, I found myself in a quandary,

 a quandary of--

 the technological kind.

Fortunately,

my tech guy was in his office, 

and willing to go to extremes to take care of me.

This led to the next part,

 the part where the room was full of people I know and love,

and I was talking to them,

 wielding my laser-pointer-of-power.

Then, they were asking me very interesting questions,

and we were engaging in very serious conversation.

Soon, the people were whisking away with plates of cookies in their hands, and my committee and I were sitting around the table, continuing the discourse.  

I wrote down everything they said, and then--

They shook my hand.

They called me "Doctor".

And I went to greet my public.

The next thing I knew,

my favorite Mrs. Begg had bought me a drink,

my friends were gathering around me,

 these dear committee members and I were raising our glasses, 

 my parents were popping buttons,

 and all of us were laughing.

The laughter led us all the way to dinner, where more friends met us, and where food was ordered and eaten with ravenous glee. 

[Somehow, in the midst of the blur and all of that glee, 

no one even took a picture.  Can you imagine?]

Then, the day long and the evening over, I raised my tired finger in the air and addressed my audience with authority, saying:

"I am going home."

Thus spake, 

Dr. Kooistra.

To Acknowledge, it's more than just today

Today, I stand up and tell the story of my dissertation to a room of friends and colleagues, but there's more to the story that needs to be stated.  This dang thing would never have gotten done without the help and encouragement of those around me, and--though what follows is also found in the pages of said 'dang thing'--who's really going to read it to find out who they were?

Here, then, my thanks:

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

            This dissertation took shape over many years, under the watchful eye of many dear friends and colleagues in the Music Education department. To each of you I say thank you, for grace as I floundered, encouragement for progress, and celebration as the path was cleared and conquered. 

To Dr. Joanne Rutkowski, my advisor, who shared her life with me, opened her home for our work, gave me her time in a challenging season, and allowed me my voice. Your attention to detail astounds me, and your willingness to see outside of “the box” inspires me.

To Dr. Ann Clements, Dr. Tim Shafer, Dr. Kim Powell, and Dr. Darrin Thorton, my committee, who opened their eyes to my vision, and allowed me to unfold.  Your insight and guidance is an honor, and your willingness to accommodate me humbles me. 

To the community of family and friends living life with me, who fought with and for me whether near or far.  You gracefully and lovingly allowed me to neglect you, teaching me that love never fails, no matter my bad behavior.  I am grateful, beyond words.  Particular thanks to Sara and Ginger, who patiently accepted the dining room table disaster for what it was during a prolonged season.  Your extensive (and creative) efforts toward joy and encouragement brought me into each new day; thank you.  And, to Kyra, who may just be the most thorough assistant around.  Your help was—and your friendship is—priceless.

To my parents, who invested in a piano for a fascinated little girl, and in the long run did so much more.  You will never know the extent of your reach, by such a faithful moment.

And finally, to Eden and to Kathleen, and to their families.  You allowed me into your lives, come what may.  You gave me precious time, and trusted me with precious hearts.  You have changed me, and I am undone with the weight of my thanks.

In Dedication

When you say, 
“I will give you hidden treasures, riches stored in secret places,” 
may my reply always be, “There is none besides you.”

Leave it to God

Leave it to God, to roll me right out of dissertation and into Him, with all of the intensity of His gaze.

Ever have a day where He burns right through you?

A day where you have no where else to go, but to let Him?

Saturday was my day.  

Hence, I found myself a canopy of trees, 

with a skyline view of Hallelujah.

I tucked myself away,

as clouds ate up the sky;

laid myself down,

as breeze and bugs played.

I listened.

I looked.

I heard.

I saw.

Asking Him for Him,

I received.

Not an answer.  Not a resolution.  

But, Him.

Him, with the Promise that defines Him;

That when we call, He hears.  

That, in the economy of His timing, 

He does more than we can ask for, 

more than we could ever imagine.

And I remembered, 

the days when I was a bruised reed, 

whom He promised not to break;

and I acknowledged, 

I turned my eyes to Him, and I acknowledged:

You have done it.  

You have given me strength, 

you have blessed me with peace.

You have kept your promise.

And though today You burn right through me, 

though you ask me for more than I am prepared to give,

though you break me now beyond what I think I can bear,

You will do it again, the more, and the strength, and the peace.

You will do it.

You will reveal the hidden treasures, 

the riches stored in secret places.

You will.

Because that is what you do.

And so I left the tranquility of that place, 

knowing there is more to walk out; 

that He and I are not done,

with the burning and the seeking.

But I also left, still confident of this:

I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.

Because that is who He is.

And leave it to God to make sure I know it.

[Ps. 30, Is. 42, Is. 45, Ps. 27]

My nears and dears

And now, a shout out.

A girl cannot live in dissertation season without a community of people cheering her on.

While the full number of that community are far broader than I can ever acknowledge here, to each and every one who has reached out and sent love, treats, encouragement, prayers, food, colorful signage, truth--

I am more grateful than I can express.

~~~

On Friday, the first day of dissertation freedom,

I was told to be ready by 6 pm.

Sure enough, 6 pm rolled around and a group of people were gathered on my deck, handing to me the following clue of what my night had in store: 

Elk Creek Cafe, the place I had secretly been longing to go but had never told a soul.

We drove, in comfortable chatting.

  We ordered delectable yummies.

I was given a video made in my honor, at which I laughed.  Hysterically.

[As did everyone else, when it made its way around the table.]

I left the night, so blessed, by these, my nears and dears.

Fed.  Grateful.  Loved.

It's the end of the world as we know it...

So, here we are.

A few days after handing in a very large document that might have come up in my conversation over the past little while.

I must tell you that I went to bed at 8 pm last evening.

I must tell you that I still feel worn.

This morning I take my time re-emerging into life.
I lie on my bed,

surrounded by words of Life.

I envision myself, being fed, bit by precious bit.

Which reminds me, as I look backward, how important food is,

how it was often these treats that
got me through the hurdles of my mind.

I think of how the world as I knew it over these past months was defined entirely by this all-consuming work, and yet, I was entirely sustained. Fed by the faithfulness of the people around me, all of God's bounty, and a dissertation that--at the end of the day--I'm totally in love with.

 So, even though there were some dicey moments,

 [Yikes.]
now that the bulk of the work is done,
and it is indeed the end of the world as I knew it...

I [with book and beer and breeze in hand] feel FINE.