A little about a lot

Wednesday, May 31, 2006


Stole it from mags. Thanks!

Admiring: Nanaw's sapphire and diamond dinner ring that I inherited.

Beating myself up about: How I'm not good at saying "no."

Crying over: I miss Nanaw.

Daydreaming about: Cute softball player guy.

Excited because: I leave for FLORIDA on Friday.

Frustrated because: My ankle isn't healing fast enough.

Grumpy because: My ankle isn't healing fast enough.

Hate-filled and seething over: My ankle isn't healing fast enough.

Indignant because: My Wednesday lunch pal met a cute girl whose name he knows how to spell and demoted me to "back-up lunch plans" status.

Just shoot me now because: I have no desire to do any work between now and Friday, and yet, somehow a couple more stories have to be written.

Kidding myself regarding: thinking I could run last night.

Listening to: Kris talk to Mark about how frustrating the redesign is.

Mooning over: My old cross that Jackie gave me for high school graduation. It went to Iraq with Jared and is finally back around my neck after a year and a half. I've missed it so.

Need: A date to about six weddings in the next four months. Ugh.

Obsessing over: Whether to try to shower between a massage and dinner with an old friend from Italy (actually from Arkansas but met him in Italy) or just going smelling of bio-freeze.

Positively Crossing my Fingers: That masseuse will use something besides biofreeze that will make me smell good thus negating the need to shower between.

Questioning: Whether we really need to check in two hours early at the airport Friday like my e-ticket says or if the standard one hour will be enough.

Reading: The sixth Mitford book, the last 50 pages of C.S. Lewis' Pilgrim's Regress, Colossians, Joshua.

Singing: "Where the spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom" along with the Christian Challenge CD. (No, Christian Challenge isn't a game show.)

Trying: To finish a story I've been writing for three days.

Unnerved by: A dream I had the other night. But in a good way. Can you be unnerved in a good way?

Very Interested in: becoming a motorcycle chick.

Wondering: What my next job will be.

X-tra special event: Going to the Smokey Hill River Festival next weekend and seeing the old boss, Yoda.

Yawning over: Progress stories. Ugh.

Zoinks: It's 1 p.m. and I've accomplished little to nothing.

Wednesday, May 24, 2006

I used to be tough

Softball hates me.

But I'm not giving up.

Unless my ankle doesn't heal.

The night started off well enough. My team, the Barn Stormers, AKA BS, are a nice group of people. All very friendly and kind to the new girl who had never played before.

We were up to bat first, but as I was the last batter (less opportunities at the plate) I didn't bat. Then it was our turn to be in the field. I was left center - between two guys, who I told should get ready to field all the balls that came to me.

Luckily, no balls came to me, but I seriously PRAYED "Please God, don't let them hit it to me."

As always, God was good.

The interesting thing about being in the outfield was - I had no idea what I was supposed to do if I actually caught a ball. We hadn't gotten that far in my training. Also, I didn't know what I was supposed to do when the ball was in play, but not anywhere near me. Am I supposed to, like, cover something? I hope not, because I didn't.

Then we were back at bat. I hit a line drivish looking thing and sprinted to first, stumbled and fell, but still managed to get up and make it to second.

I now had a bloody knee, but was feeling pretty good about myself. I ended up getting a run and we were back in the field.

At my next time up to bat, I swung but managed to hit the ball about as far as a bunt would go and sprinted to first. I tried to stop, stumbled, sprained my ankle and fell on my ass.

It was at that point that my coach reminded me that I could run THROUGH first. I thought I was ok and could walk the sprain off, but then I got light headed and had to come out of the game, which was AWFUL because then we had to take one of our guys out.

We ended up losing the first game, but an extra girl came for the second game and we actually won by the 10-run rule.

I hobbled home, thinking this wouldn't be too bad and would heal quickly, iced the sucker and went to sleep. This morning, the swelling had gone down, and it's not black and blue, but I can't put direct weight on it.

As I was getting some more ice, I got light headed again and had to lay on my kitchen floor, which is kinda gross considering my cleaning skills.

Anyhow, I'm going to the doc at 11. The ankle is really, really sore. I'm not sure If I'm just not as tough as I used to be when I was spraining my ankles all the time in high school, or if this one is worse.

All in all, I feel like an idiot, but still had fun in the four innings of softball I actually played.


Tuesday, May 23, 2006

Being that girl

Tonight is my first softball game.

I am nervous. I have practiced only twice, and although I am improving, I'm still pretty sure I'm going to really really screw up.

Everyone has assured me that it's not competitive and no one is going to be mad if I throw a ball over someone's head - but still - who wants to be that girl?

I'm pretty sure God is using softball to teach me patience.


And humility.


Tuesday, May 16, 2006

States and Countries I've visited

Visiting doesn't count unless you leave the airport. :)

***Edit: OK I took the maps out because they weren't that impressive and they were screwing with the formating on my page. :)

To make your own, click here

Wednesday, May 10, 2006


I listened to this Third Day song this morning.
It spoke a truth that I know in my head but doesn't always get transferred to my heart.
As I listened I visualized the lyrics and they spoke to me in a way they hadn't before. I realized that this promise that Mac Powell speaks of is what, at my core, I seek the most.

Here is how I see it...

"Well, I don't know how to explain it, but I know that words will hardly do," He said, looking me squarely in the eyes - the only part of my body not covered with filth and dirt.
His voice trailed off as he added, "Miracles with signs and wonders aren't enough for Me to prove to you..."

It was then that I noticed the sadness in His voice. When I had come back to Him, covered in the mud and dirt He asked me to steer clear of, I expected harsh words - not sadness.

Then He spoke again.

"Don't you know I've always loved you? ... Even before there was time?"

My heart broke at the sound of exasperation in His voice. Then, I panicked. I just knew what He'd say next. He's tired of loving me. He's tired of me always turning away - always ignoring - and only trusting when it's safe to do so.

Tears welled up in my eyes and my knees buckled. I fell to the floor in front of Him and hugged myself. Everything was spinning and the smell of my dirtiness was nauseating.

Silence filled the room. I couldn't look up but expected that He had just left. That is what I deserved, after all. Hadn't I been cheating on this faithful Man?

My breath caught in my throat when I felt a warm, strong hand on my shouder. He lifted my chin and again, looked squarely in my eyes.

"Though you turn away, I'll tell you still," He said - a smile spreading across His face. "Don't you know I've always loved you? And I always will."

He must've seen the disbelief in my eyes. He must've understood that with one beat of my heart came soaring hope and with the next incredible guilt.

"I'm not worthy of your kindness," I mumbled. "I'm not worthy of your love. I've rolled in the mud. I'm dirty ... please don't touch me."

His eyes flashed. I knew what He was going to do, but as he grabbed me by the elbows and pulled me to my feet I was too weak to struggle against Him. I finally submitted as he enveloped me in His arms. I layed my dirty face on His shoulder and wept.

He spoke again and I could hear his voice resonating through His chest.
"Greater love has not a man," He said. "Than the one who gives his life to prove that he would do anything ... and that's what I'm going to do for you."

I never wanted to leave His arms. My fear and guilt were gone and in their place a peace that surpasses understanding.

He broke the embrace and held me back from Him. I saw my dirty imprint on His gleaming white clothes, but before my eyes, it disappeared. I looked at my own arms and hands and they too were clean. My clothes were clean, my feet were clean, my hair was clean.

He laughed joyfully at my confusion, and as if to explain, He said again:

"Don't you know I've always loved you? Even before there was time. Though you turn away, I'll tell you still. Don't you know I've always loved you - and I always will."

Thursday, May 04, 2006

Aggressively Passive

Another Thursday morning epiphany.

The other day, a co-worker coined the phrase "aggressively passive." He was talking about the practice of de-stressing by an active disregard for personal responsibility. (long story.)

Anyhow, this morning the passage we went over (2 Peter 1:3-11) led us to talk about how, to grow in the fruits of the spirit, we have to be aggressively passive.

Sometimes we try to achieve the Fruits of the Spirit, which are basically a divine level of love, peace, patience, kindness, gentleness, goodness and self control. But those spirit-led attributes are a gift, - something we accept, not something we develop.

To bear the fruits of the spirit, we have to first be filled with the Holy Spirit and let it guide our actions. We have to submit our will to God's will. We have to be still and let Him transform us.

It's not easy to be still. We want to check things off a list. We want to achieve. We want to "climb the ladder" right into Heaven.

But it doesn't work that way. It is, at the same time, more simple and more difficult than that.

We have to be aggressively - or actively - passive.

***I'm not saying you have to be spirit filled to be loving. We can all be loving, we can all be kind and gentle and faithful. Christians believe there is a higher level of these attributes though - a divine level that we ourselves can't develop. That divine level is what we are talking about when we say "fruits of the spirit."***

Tuesday, May 02, 2006

An athlete again?

For the first time since I graduated high school, I am on an athletic team again.

Our name: The Barn Stormers. BS for short.
Our game: Softball.
Our uniforms: cheap t-shirts with ironed-on letters. I might even get to be No. 22 again.

This is all very exciting despite the fact that I have never before in my 24 years played softball. Ever. Not even a pick up game for fun. Not kidding.

I did play tee ball at Blue Ridge School. Rodney Chamberlin was the coach and I was catcher. Yes, I said catcher. For a teeball team. Right. Do you see where this is going?

I think I only played one game. Actually, it might have been a practice. Yeah. I'm pretty sure it was a practice.

So, you may be wondering, how did these poor people manage to get me on their team?

I think the conversation went something like this:

My friend Sarah, the architect: "Hey, do you want to play softball? We're putting a team together and we need more girls."

Me: "Ummm, sure. I've never played though."

Sarah, the amazing softball player: "That's OK, there will be a lot of people who aren't serious about it. It's just for fun."

Me: (getting excited)"It sounds like fun. Yeah - I've always kinda wanted to play. (pause...)You do understand that when I say I've never played, I mean I've NEVER played. Like, never.

Her: (Silence)

Me: (giving an embarrassed look)

Her: blink ... blink.

Me: Sooooooooo, if you'd rather not put my name in, that's OK. I'd understand.

Her: (starting to laugh) Uh, yeah. We'll see.

So, needless to say, when I got an e-mail from the team captain "Chaz" I was surprised.

I e-mailed Sarah: "Is this about softball? Am I playing now? Do they know I've never played?"

Her: "Yes this is softball. Yes you are playing. Yes they know you've never played but they think you are athletic."

Apparently, I'm an athlete again.