Seven vs. Eight

Yesterday afternoon was a big softball day—the most anticipated game of the year. We (technically, “they.” I’m just a spectator) played Seven (named in honor of the movie Fletch), our old team from which we branched off this season and from whom we received our team name—Eight. If ever a rivalry was to be had in a church softball league, this was it.

The sky was mostly clear, the temperature hovered in the high 70s. Perfect.

There was much good-natured trash talking in the first inning, but both teams’ competitive natures took over after the first couple runs were scored. Silence fell over the diamond, and the players’ faces were set like flint. Seven was in the lead, and going strong. By the middle of the game (I don’t remember inning numbers or miniscule details—I’ll never be a sports reporter), the score was 6-2, Seven in the lead by four runs.

But Eight was not going to take it lying down! An amazing turnaround happened around the 5^th or 6^th inning—Eight scored four runs and tied the game! No outs! We were going strong! Then, somehow, we were ahead! Eight took a commanding lead and finished the top of the seventh inning with eight runs! The score was 8-6 at the bottom of the seventh. Seven came up to bat, and the tension was high. Could we hold them? Could they come back and win it? It was anyone’s game.

One out. Two outs. A couple base hits, but still no runs from Seven. Then, at the crack of the bat, Jarett shot off of third base and headed for home. Scored. The ball was tossed in from the outfield to tag another runner out, and that was the end of the game.

Final score: Eight 8, Seven 7. Seriously, I couldn’t have made up a more perfect score.

Great job, everyone! Don’t worry, Seven--there’s always next year.

Pet Peeves

(I tried to post this yesterday, but for some reason it didn’t work. Trying again.)

To quote Meredith Brooks: I hate the world today.

In celebration of this day, I’m going to share some of my extra-special pet peeves. Enjoy :)

• People who come into a public restroom and take the stall right next to you, even though the rest of the bathroom is empty. This pet peeve gets bumped up a level when that person sits next to you and then goes #2.
• People who change lanes without signaling.
• Bumping into people while coming around a corner or opening a door. Not that it’s anyone’s fault, but it just annoys me.
• Talking on the phone. When I was a teenager, I loved the sound of the phone ringing. Now it makes me want to smash something.
• Mouth noises.
• Dirty sinks.
• Passive-aggressiveness.
• Unclear expectations.
• Mean people.
• Slow drivers.
• Slow computers.
• When you’re standing in an extra long line at the store, and an additional register opens up, but the people who rush to the new line are the ones at the end of the extra long line, even though they’ve been waiting the shortest amount of time. That’s not fair.

That’s about it for now.

Mmmm....Blizzard....

So, yesterday I had a Dairy Queen experience that made me scratch my head.

I have one of those reusable coupon cards that has various deals at various businesses listed on the back. One of those deals was for a Dairy Queen near us: buy one blizzard, get a 16 oz blizzard for 99 cents.

So, yesterday it was about a million degrees, so we decided to go to DQ. We had a brief discussion in the car about the specifics of the deal: "Does it say what size you have to buy, or just which size is 99 cents?" "Is a 16 oz a small?" "Probably," we reasoned. These deals typically are for the cheapest size, right?

So we get up there, order two small blizzards, and she gives us our total ($5 and something). (sidenote: If I'd been driving, I probably would have told her about the coupon card when we ordered. Craig, however, thought it would simplify things to have the conversation at the window. Probably not a good idea.)

We pulled up to the window, and through the window I could see her making our blizzards. me: "Are those 16 oz cups? They look smaller than 16 oz..." Craig: "Maybe it's by weight and not by volume?"

So, she opens the window and gives us our total again. Craig hands her the card and some money. She looks at the card and says, "Oh...actually, this card is for the 16 oz blizzard. That's the next size bigger." She asked us if we wanted her to make new ones, but that seemed like a waste of time and ice cream, so we said no. Still confused by the logic of it, I leaned over and asked, "Sooo...the smaller size is going to be more money?" She kind of looked at me quizzically and said, "Well...the coupon...it's for the 16 oz size...."

Right. Okay, I just wanted to make sure I had it right. That we were paying more money for less ice cream. Just checking.

The funny part is that I know that I think just as illogically a lot of the time. Craig even asked me, "If you were working here and in her position right now, what would you have done?" Right. Gone by the letter of the coupon, not the spirit of the coupon, I'm sure. Craig joked, "She's in high school--she's not taking that class, 'Thinking Outside of the Box.'..." And, as we all know, I didn't take that class either :)

Still, on the other side of it, it was kind of funny. That coupon card cost me $10. So far, we've only lost money with it.

Friday

It's Friday. For some reason, I feel the need to update. It's been kind of a heavy-duty week, in terms of things happening in our lives and in the lives of people around us. The weekend is almost here and I'm tired.

Craig and I are going car shopping tonight. That's both fun/exciting and draining. The other day we spent 3 hours at the dealership. Hopefully we can spend less time there tonight.

Obie needs more surgery. That's a story in itself. Short version: the screw that the surgeon put in his ankle joint is bent and the ligaments aren't healing, so he's eventually going to need more surgery to permanently fix his joint. We're obviously asking a lot of questions and trying to get the hospital to take some responsibility for this, because this "additonal" surgery sounds like something they should have done when they cut him open the first time. In the meantime, however, Obie's walking around just fine and it doesn't seem to be bothering him at all yet, which is good. And his broken fibula is all healed, which is good. I'll post an updated picture of him soon. His hair is almost all grown back and he's back to his old self :)

Great Weekend

Friday (since, thanks to Moxy Fruvous and the King of Spain, Friday is part of the weekend):

• worked
• got news that the hubby convinced work to give him the day off Saturday (yay!)
• drove up to Ann Arbor with the hubby
• hung out with grandma for an hour or so, had a very interesting conversation with her about the "emerging church" movement--wow

Saturday:

• went to cousin's graduation party
• had a blast
• got to be in one place with all 3 siblings at once (the first time since our wedding)
• had a blast
• saw other random family and friends-of-family
• had a blast

Sunday:

• had great walk and talk with Adrienne
• watched a movie by myself in the afternoon
• took a nap
• went to Anne's party
• laughed a lot

Below is my favorite picture from the party on Saturday. Craig took it (he really has an eye for photography). It's my brother Scott (16 years old) and my sister Gracie. They're the two "drama queen" siblings. Scott was kind of pouting about something, and Gracie went over to console him. For only being 6 1/2, she's very grown-up and serious, and I love the way this picture captures both of their personalities:

Checkers

Two years ago, during a game of checkers, I saw a glimpse of myself in a four-year-old girl. It brought me to a stunning realization of my own ignorance and foolishness when relating to God, as well as the loving patience He shows when relating to me.

The little girl was the daughter of a friend of mine, and I was at her house watching the kids. Caylee and I were playing checkers. Being four years old, Caylee didn't really understand the game of checkers, but she really wanted to play. I coached her through the general rules, which (I've got to hand it to her) she remembered about 1/2 the time. But as hard as she tried, she could never quite see the big picture. A couple different times, I deliberately put myself in position to be double- or triple- jumped, thinking she'd enjoy the thrill of making that kind of move. However, even with a killer move like that right in front of her, she could never see it. So, I'd point it out to her, exactly where she could move her piece if she wanted to remove two or three of my pieces from the board. Once I showed her, she'd grin with excitement and make the move. What really cracked me up, however, was the smug way she would gloat afterward. "I just took three of your guuuuuuys...that's cuz I'm good and you're not...You're gonna loooose...." Who did she think she was kidding? I stifled back a smile and feigned humble acknowledgment of her superior game playing.

Now, because I wanted to help her learn the game (and not just let her clobber me over and over), I didn't always make it so easy on her. I sometimes jumped one or two of her pieces (of course, I let most of those opportunites go by, but every so often, I'd take one). And oh, how she would sulk! It was hard for me not to laugh--I wanted to pick her up and squeeze her with hugs and say, "Silly girl, it's just a game! You really have no chance of winning if I don't let you win, so it's really quite ridiculous for you to be either proud or sullen about it. Just enjoy the game!"

But really, what a picture of my own heart! When I "succeed," I puff out my chest and feel so proud of my accomplishments....and when I fail, I hang my head and want to die of humiliation...All the while, I think God is laughing, wanting to spin me around and remind me of Who, exactly, is in charge...remind me of what exactly it means that He is the vine and I am the branches...("apart from Me, you can do nothing"...John 15)...remind me that, if I win, it's because He's letting me win...and if I lose, I really haven't lost anything. The feeling that the whole game somehow depends on my cleverness and prowess..well, that's kind of an illusion, isn't it? I'm just like a four-year-old playing checkers with a grown-up.

I can't stop listening to this song by the David Crowder Band. Lately, I've been feeling more on the losing end of that checkers game, and I've been pretty deeply stuck in some self-pity about it. I've been stared in the face with all of the ways I've been falling short and blowing it, and I've been hanging my head like Caylee after a double-jump. But the words of this song have been very uplifting to me. Somehow, he captures the reality of humanity's fallenness, while at the same time drawing attention to who God is, and that's a beautiful picture to me. It doesn't make sense to try to sugar-coat and cover up the darkness we find in our own hearts. That would be like me trying to convince Caylee that she really is the best checkers player in the world, because that's what she wants to believe. But that's just self-deception. The beauty of the gospel is that we are helpless, we are guilty, and we are without hope when we look to ourselves for the answers...and yet, God is there with His arms open wide, offering us Himself as the answer to our deepest need. Wow.

Wholly Yours, David Crowder Band

I am full of earth, You are heaven's worth
I am stained with dirt, prone to depravity
And You are everything that is bright and clean
The antonym of me, You are divinity

What a certain sign of grace is this:
From a broken earth flowers come up
Pushing through the dirt...

Chorus:
You are holy, holy, holy
All heaven cries holy, holy God
You are holy, holy, holy
I wanna be holy like You are

You are everything that is bright and clean
And You're covering me with Your majesty

And the truest sign of grace was this
From wounded hands redemption fell down,
Liberating man...

Chorus:
You are holy, holy, holy
All heaven cries holy, holy God
You are holy, holy, holy
I wanna be holy like You are

But the harder I try, the more clearly can I
Feel the depth of our fall and the weight of it all
And so this might could be the most impossible thing:
Your grandness in me, making me clean...

Glory, hallelujah
Glory, glory, hallelujah
You are holy, holy, holy
All heaven cries holy, holy, God
You are holy, holy, holy
I wanna be holy, holy God
So here I am, all of me, finally everything
Holy, holy, holy
I am wholly, wholly, wholly
I am wholly, wholly, wholly Yours
I am wholly Yours

And I am full of earth and dirt and You...
Here I am...
Everything...

so what's been going on?

Not much. Drove up to Wellington over the long weekend to visit the fam on the hubby's side. Got to spend some time with his aunt and uncle from VT, which was cool. They're cool peeps, and we don't see them very often, since they're, you know, many many miles away. The four of us went to Great Lakes Brewing Company where I ordered and finished a beer (my 3rd ever beer ordered at a restaurant). It's coming slowly, but I am trying really hard to aquire a taste for beer. I can honestly say that I actually enjoy wheat beers now (rather than just choking them down to prove to myself that I can do it without gagging).



I also have been feeling like God's teaching me more about my identity. Story of my life, right? Well they say that the Christian life is like a spiral staircase--you just keep learning the same basic truths over and over, just a little deeper each time around. Silly me, I start to think I've "arrived" after one time around the circle, and when a theme comes up again, I balk "Isn't this a rerun? Uh, new episode, please? Thanks." I guess this particular theme is going to be a major one--separating my perception of myself from what others think, my actions from others' expectations of what my actions should be. Bev was telling me a story recently about someone who was trying to manipulate her, and she was able to say, "Ah! He's being manipulative, but I'm not letting him manipulate me!" So there's a choice in there somewhere...a point where we allow others control over us that they cannot otherwise have. That's tricky, and I can't yet figure out where that place is, but I'm now looking for it (which is more than I could say before).

"Oh, these little rejections--how they add up quickly!

One small sideways look and I feel so ungood...

Somewhere along the way, I think, I gave you the power to make

me feel the way I thought only my father could..."

-Alanis Morissette