Ranch life goes on...

Yesterday was such a fun day. I did not start it optimistically, as it was my first day back after three days off. The servers are taking a turn in the dishpit this week since things are so slow for us and there's SO MUCH snow for everyone else to remove, and yesterday was my turn. But with only two guests, the amount of dishes didn't exactly match the days we seated thirty at each meal. It was actually very low-key and lots of time chatting with the kitchen guys. After lunch, Dace rescued me from the dishes so I could go SNOWMOBILING.

Snowmobiling was so much fun. I rode along with Elisha, our new room mate, and we got to see some beautiful terrain. Best of all, our ride was comped (sp?) because they want us to tell guests how much fun we had and send them on snowmobile tours. They took us to a meadow where we could ride around and tear it up as much as we wanted...within reason. While trying to climb a hill, Patrick got his snowmobile stuck, and while trying to get it out, he lurched forward, knocked his helmet against the windshield, and broke it. Thankfully he was okay--yay for helmets!--but the first thing the guide said was, "Patrick bought a windshield!" They were actually really nice about it, though, and only charged him $30 as opposed to the normal $70-$90. By the end of the trip, I was really freezing, but I was warmed up while we were waiting for them to dig out Pat by a spontaneous snowball fight that broke out in the meadow.

After dinner, we went out to The Glen. The Glen is a bar/restaurant in Clark that is actually called The White Bison Pub, but apparently it has recently undergone a change of name and everyone still calls it The Glen. I am not a big going-out type, but Rob set up a dance night with people from the Home Ranch, a neighboring guest ranch, and we are always ripping on him about not hanging out with us, so I couldn't afford not to go. Now, I am not a dancer. I'm one of those people who hangs back in the corner and watches everyone else. But of course, people do not allow that. They have a way of dragging you onto the dance floor and making you dance with them. And I actually had a lot of fun. I got to swing dance a little, and Teresa taught me how to salsa, and Isaiah taught me how to two-step, and then I taught Lee how to two-step, and Anita and I had fun copying the signature dance moves of the other staffers. I danced more last night than I did all last year, I think. My goal is to practice dancing in the bunkhouse so that next time I don't feel so self-conscious.

My new shoes arrived yesterday! They are so comfy. A little low-cut for the snow, though--I definitely need to wear my boots outside.

Wed night we had a prayer time with some girls at Johanna and Bekah's. It was great to finally get that fellowship and share with others. Speaking of prayer requests, I talked to my parents the other day, and they gave me the update on my grandparents. My mom's mom is on the mend and doing better every day. My dad's mom, the one who has Alzheimer's, stopped eating at the beginning of the week. They are not going to feed her intravenously because, in effect, she been gone for a long time, mentally and emotionally, anyway. They figure this is just her body's way of recognizing that it's time to shut down. My grandpa is back in assisted living, but I really think the reason he's held on for so long is for my grandma, and when my dad talked to him, he said he wanted my dad to have his desk and my mom some of my grandma's dishes. I feel like I've been preparing myself for them to go for years now, but what is hard for me is that they're not believers. I can't even think about them being eternally separated from God. I've never had anything that has thrown it into such reality for me. All of a sudden hell isn't just a theory or something for "other people" that I don't need to worry about. I've prayed through the passage about the laborers who came at the eleventh hour, and I know God can do anything, but honestly, I just try not to think about it too much. I don't know how to cope with this or process it.

Strangely, I've been feeling more subdued since the prayer group. I don't know if I'm reverting to the old ways since I used to always hang out around Christians and it reminds me of that, or if it's spiritual attack, or if I'm just tired. I just feel more hesitant to talk to people and share myself with them. I think I feel a separateness now. We bared our hearts in prayer group, and the others haven't been a part of that. I really don't want that. Being "in and not of" is key here.

On the other side, God has continued to open up doors for conversation with people here, and given opportunities to encourage and challenge. He is definitely faithful and wonderful.