Reflections on Shuffle-Play
Love Like We Do
Edie Brickell and the New Bohemians
Last night I preached at a worship service at my alma mater – Concordia College in Moorhead, MN. It is Homecoming week there and I was pleased to be invited to go back to preach. My class is having our 25th reunion this year. On the way west last night, I thought about the cassette tapes I loved most during freshman year – then, I turned up Edie Brickell and the New Bohemians loud.
I still wear my Concordia ring, but I always felt on the fringes when I was there. I was not popular or well-known on campus. I was usually working a couple jobs and not terribly dedicated to my studies. I spent a terrific amount of time writing in my journal and daydreaming about finding true love. That and some Habitat for Humanity trips, and making a few friends for a lifetime sums up my years there.
I felt immensely lucky to be a student at Concordia. Growing up poor, I never dreamed I would be able to go to a college so nice. I remember feeling so spoiled at living in the midst of all the nice furniture, shiny linoleum, warm and inviting rooms of that school. I could take a hot shower every day! I could tell when I went into the dorm rooms of the other girls that I had grown up quite differently. Most of them had plump new comforters and pillows adorning their beds, all sorts of decorations and storage systems that had been bought just for their daughter to bring to college. Whereas I brought nearly nothing. I looked longingly at my roommate’s fancy electric typewriter, her beautiful clothes, her ability to order a pizza on her credit card anytime she wanted. While I was a student at a nice private school, I was still a poor kid who grew up in a house that was held together by duct tape.
In the springtime each year, I learned to walk slowly and frequently by the dumpsters outside our dorm because many of the girls couldn’t be bothered to bring home a lot of their stuff. They knew they would just get new things next year – so they would toss out piles of beautiful, fluffy, folded towels, mostly-full bottles of shampoo and hairspray, school supplies, books, crates, even piles of cassette tapes and CD’s! I scavenged through what they discarded and I honestly felt lucky – so lucky that I could have their leftovers, their castoffs. I felt lucky that I knew I didn’t take anything for granted and I never would. I had the wisdom and tenacity of growing up poor, and then I had the luxury of living in the midst of excess and finery. Both taught me a great deal.
So I wear my Concordia ring and sometimes I smile because I know that perhaps when people hear I graduated from there, they get a certain perception of me. Spoiled rich kid who went to a private Lutheran college. But I know there were many of us who did not fit that mold at all. We may have been on the fringes. We may have felt like imposters there sometimes, and yet we did find our place. I found a lot of things at Concordia (in addition to dumpster treasures). I found some of my best friends. I found a school that honored and respected the faith tradition that is so dear to me and it nurtured my calling to be a pastor. I found so much laughter, many great challenges, some despair, and a home for four good years.
I am a Cobber. (Yes, our mascot is a corn cob).
“Love Like We Do”
Life is better than the days behind
What’s mine is yours and what’s yours is mine
No aggravation that we can’t get through
A situation for the lucky few
And every day is just a little more
Of time together to be happy for
I’m happy even when the times are rough
‘Cause any time with you is good enough
When we love like we do
Love like we do
I don’t believe in hatred anymore
I hate to think of how I felt before
When anger overwhelms your very soul
It’s hard to realize you’ll ever know
When we love like we do
Love like we do
Love like we do
Love like we do
Life is better than the days behind
What’s mine is yours and what’s yours is mine
No aggravation that we can’t get through
A situation for the lucky few
When we love like we do
Love like we do
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