Broken World

Broken Man, Broken Woman.
by Heather Coaster *

TAMAR JUDAH
He died and I waited He died and I waited
And wondered if there would be another man, And wondered if I could afford to lose another son,
Wondered if the empty would go away by my waiting. Wondered if you might go away by my waiting.
I waited for you I waited for you
To tell me what to do To find something to do
And where to go Somewhere to go
And how to make the empty go away. And really just to go away.
But you never came So I never came
You never called I never called
And the empty stayed My own empty grew

I became desparate I became desparate

And hid behind my veil And hid behind your veil
I hoped that you wouldn't see me I hoped that you wouldn't see me
I prayed that you would I feared that you would
I gave you myself I took from you yourself
And settled for the price of a promise And negotiated the price of a promise
A goat. Was that all? My goat. Was that too much?

But I went home But I went home
And tried to forget And forgot
Until the day that forgetting became impossible Until the day that forgetting became impossible
Remembrance was growing inside me Remembrance was growing inside you
They found me out You found me out
And brought me before you They brought you before me
So that you could make me disappear And I no longer had the choice to disappear
But I held your name in my hand You held my name in your hand
Your seed in my womb My seed in your womb

I had fooled you, I had failed you,
Yet still felt alone and afraid, Had left you alone and afraid,
As if the sin was all mine to bear. As if the sin was all yours to bear.
Was your unrighteousness so much less than mine? But your unrighteousness was so much less than mine
My hunger overcame me My hunger overcame me
And now the fire awaits me. And now the fire awaits you.
Why is it mine alone? It is not yours alone.

I'm sorry I fool. I'm sorry you fail. I'm sorry I don't know you yet.

The plasitc kind even...

I have a lot of hangers.

A LOT.

A small army. A large army. An armada...of hangers.

So, a box of hangers. A large box of hangers...
A large, free box of hangers. Come and get em, if you want em.

I also have two closets that I just dominated.

THAT is a good day.

Boo Yah.

ENFP

For you Myers-Briggs friends and fans out there, and all of you who accuse me of "non-mellow-ness".
I have proof that I'm swinging back toward the middle, I'm ALMOST an INFP....
According to this I used to be more extroverted, and now, I'm
E: 1% "slightly expressed Extrovert"
N: 38% "moderately expressed iNtuitive personality"
F: 50% "Moderately expressed Feeling personality" (I'm definitley a feeler).
P: 44% "Moderately expressed Perceiving personality

I guess this means this and this. I know more ENFP's than not. Is that because I am one and I recognize the letters?

I'm not sure I buy this stuff altogether...

Coach Murl

I gave in. I am finally doing some coaching. Before you get excited, it's only assitant coaching in a summer league, but it's for some pretty committed high school sophomores. I'm the post coach. Heh.

Today, a girl in a pink t-shirt knocked me over.

Not kidding. Laid me out flat... I had a football pad and i wasn't expecting it, and she cleaned my plate... ... It was awesome and my arm hurts.

Another girl in the same drill punched me in the right eye.

I'm coaching with Neety, Sparty and Sue-Bear. It's fun. I tried coaching before with some girls who were too young to care very much, who didn't want to be there, and I had zero patience with it. Now I am amazed at what they can do, and how good they are. I'm excited to see them play in some games and stuff. I'll keep you POSTed.

Hams, Grams, & Gracie.

The Honeybaked Ham gift certificate that I lost at Christmastime was found at Eastertime as I fished underneath the seat of my car at an Arby's drive thru. A timely find indeed, since this weekend was my Grandma Murl's 70th birthday party. It was a Luau, so I drove home with 8 pounds of pig, my contribution to the festivities.

Let me just tell you that the Honeybaked Ham store has quite a bit of business around Easter. Enough to warrant not one, but two traffic cops in the parking lot and movie theatre-like rope lines inside. It was a Hamstravaganza! (not my word).

Grandma turned 70 amongst friends, family and fake motorized palm trees.

As two of these friends came walking up the drive, I did a double take. It was Benny and Betty Bradley. These two sixty-somethings I remembered from the two years that my family spent in Conroe, TX. Benny went to elementary school with my grandpa in Irondale, MO and moved to Conroe several years before we did. My dad became fast friends with these two home-towners when he traveled down there solo, setting up camp before we arrived. My father showed up on Betty's doorstep one day and announced who he was and she invited him in for dinner, Benny came home from work and they all ate. When my dad stood to leave, Betty looked pleasantly suprised and uttered "You're leaving?" When dad confirmed this, she said, "The last time a boy from Irondale show up on our doorstep he stayed for three weeks, and I had to TH'OW HIM OUT." She liked my dad much better after that. I hadn't seen them in sixteen years. I think I must have been very impressionable at that age, and I remembered everything, the name of their English Bulldog, Gracie, with her wayward lower jaw. I remember laughing so hard when we went over there that I couldn't eat. I remember a sense of home, when we were so far away (they had the "You been farmin' long?" poster that seems to be a southern MO staple). Benny retired at 55 and they bought a giant RV and traveled the country for 6 years. They bought a house back home in Missouri, and depending on which one you ask, they are moving to Alaska in a year (Benny) or they are DONE traveling (Betty). They both agree that they are getting another English bulldog.

Happy Easter.

Even though it probably stems from a pagan festival... let's just honor the stone rollin' away, Amen?

Hallelujah.

Lovin' springtime. Lovin' life.

I am Little

Lord Almighty.

GOD of the Nations, Creator, Preserver, Transcendent, Mighty, Strong God All- Sufficient, Lord God the Almighty, Master, LORD, Yahweh, The Self-Existent One, I AM WHO I AM, I WILL BE WHO I WILL BE. The name of God, too sacred to be uttered or written, The Lord will Provide, The Lord Who Heals, The Lord Our Banner (as in on the battlefield, from the word that means to glisten, to lift up), The Lord Who Sanctifies, The Lord Our Peace, JUDGE, The Lord Our Righteousness, The Lord Our Shepherd, The Lord is There, The Lord of Hosts, The commander of the angelic host and the armies of God, The most High, The Mighty One, The Branch, the Holy One of Israel, God of Seeing, Jealous, Deliverer, Savior, Redeemer, Shield, STONE, Strength, Everlasting God, God of the Covenant,Mighty God, God our Rock, The Sun of Righteousness, Wonderful, Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace, Ancient of Days, King, Father, The First and Last, I AM, I AM the Light of the world bread of life, living water, the Resurrection and the Life,the Way, Truth and the Life JESUS, The Anointed One, King of kings; Lord of lords; Bishop and Guardian of our Souls; Daystar, Deliverer, Advocate, Second Adam, Ancient of Days, Branch, Chief Cornerstone, Immanuel, First Born, Head of the Body, Physician, Rock, Root of Jesse, Stone, Potentate; Chief Apostle; Great High Priest; Pioneer and Perfecter of our Faith ; Lamb of God; Lamb Slain before the Foundation of the World; Lord God Almighty. The First and the Last, The Beginning and The End.

Funny how I think I'm capable of making him such a small part of my day.
Funnier still that things like this and this and this and this occur and we, who have access to his power, who have tasted and seen Him, been rescued by Him, do nothing, say nothing and feel nothing.

God where are you...
Come.

Girls go crazy for a "shot-glass" man.

Threw a party last night. We gathered around the best purchase I've ever made.

A fire pit.

Mine looks a little less like R2-D2, and a little more like a terra cotta flower pot, but the principle is the same.

It was fabulous. We drank, ate, make s'mores, some of us almost fell out of the hammock. Perfect night for a fire. And much more responsible than our last attempts at fire which you'll remember ended with an empty bottle of lighter fluid, a charred champagne cork, and a stained patio. So this night of burning things, was much more advanced, and safe, much to the delight of my insurance man, I'm sure.

Later we also played a stirring round of my new favorite game "buzz word". I highly recommend it. Woo Hoo.

Then church was really good today, I spoke up front for the first time and I like doing that. Scott talked about our desire for justice and how that is both a good desire, yet that vengance is not something to be taken into our own hands. Scott is great at presenting a balanced view of the issues of scripture and the pit falls of swaying too far to one side. I used to hate the word "balance" as it refers to Christianity, as if it were a tightrope that we would fall off of if we strayed to either side, but now I like the word more, and see balance as a safe place to stand.

Later, I had a market fresh sandwich from Arby's.

Mmm.

Lunch Club

Why Lunch Club exists:

On the topic of Cremation....
Leigh: "No, you know why I don't want to be buried? Have you ever seen Poltergeist...the part when it rained and all those dead Indians floated up in the backyard? Uh uh.. not me. I want to be cremated..."
Linz: "...And have your ashes scattered at the mall?"
Pat: "...To have yourself poured into little silica gel packets and stuck in random pairs of designer shoes?"
Linz: "Yeah, 'Do not eat'"
Pat: "'Do not eat Leigh'"
Wendy: "My grandma was in the basement in a shoe box for, like, three years."

Starting to Thaw

This afternoon, as I walked up to my front door, I notice a cluster of tiny purple flowers poking up through the blanket of day old snow. I think to myself... Right on.

I myself am starting to thaw.

I am waking up a little. Things were always moving, scars have always been healing, but the order...or lack of order... is starting to thrill me.

The beauty, the grand joke of it all, is that God is not safe.

He. Is. Not. Safe.

I say it all the time. I incessantly quote the C.S. Lewis story in my head. (Not safe, but Good) I type it over and and over again hoping that one day I wake up and magically become who I want to be. But truth be told all I strive for now is comfort... and God has so much more for me than that.

If I'd only thaw out a bit. If I'd only stop with the constant questioning of every move, the critical, quizzical self-protective junk, the rules, the disciplines, the things that are driven by the stark white terror of doing the wrong thing, of... hurting.

I have thirst. It scares me to have it. Yet it thrills me to know that it will be quenched. Not here, don't kid yourself, but it will be quenched. And if that is all I get, the hope that my 'i's will be dotted and the 't's will be crossed in the hereafter...and maybe some glimpses of it now, well it's all I need.

Do I want more?
Hell yeah, with all that I am I want warm house, full tummy, tragically beautiful music, to see people change, to see God move, a jet ski, really good oatmeal, pedicures, good books and to sing at the top of my lungs in the shower. I want jeans that fit, and friends who laugh, and a sense that I'm doing something right. I want someone to see that I'm trying, and to kick my ass when I'm not. I want to live without fear.

I want to slam volleyballs really hard.

I want to live as I'm led. I want to be led. I want to heed the gentle thunder that says "Come. Further up, Further In." I want people to agree.

I'm silly. I know. I'm a hopeless romantic who gets these grandiose ideas and who, still, at the end of the day...lets just say it... is wanting. The wanting wont ever stop. The joy is, that I get to know that it wont stop. I get to know that my thirst is valid, real, and totally incurable this side of heaven. So the immediate lesson I've learned is that my optimism for perfection is not off-base, I just predicted it too soon, and from the wrong, wrong, wrong sources.

So.. not only am I FREE to love with abandon (as I was starting to figure out) but I'm FREE to be loved poorly, as I often am, by the broken army of the Lord.

If the only things considered noble are awarness of my own lack of nobility, and the fact that He alone is noble, and superb, and beautiful and stong, and capable and righteous, and good, and mighty, and tender, and loving, and kind, and limitless, and secretive, and obnoxiously obvious, and sufficient for my every need, and merciful enough not to give me my every want...

Well atleast I have the first part down.

SonofaMurl.

From Brother Murl:

In a little book entitled “Surnames as a Science,” published in London in 1883, Robert Ferguson, M.P., seeks to derive “Merrill” from a German origin through the Anglo-Saxon. Few of us will thank him for his efforts.
“Marlingen,” he says, is a Bavarian family name, and it appears in the Anglo-Saxon as “Merlingas.” The “ing” in this name “is a patronymic, as in Bruning, son of Br–n.” The ending “ingas” is of the nominative plural, Merlingas thus denoting sons or descendants of Merl. According to this theory, some family among the Saxon hordes which invaded England in the fifth and sixth centuries may have been under the patriarchal leadership of a man (or perhaps a 6'2" blond girl) named Merl, and all the individuals in the group accordingly took the name Merlingas, or sons or followers of Merl.

Interesting.

Murl Fragments

Champions of Trivia Night. I work with this guy who literally has a photographic memory. He would answer multiple choice questions before the question was finished and before the choices were given, and he knew every running mate on every ticket, republican and democratic, elected and not, a la Rainman. It was unbelievable.
"How many..."
"Twelve"
"In Alfred Hitchcock's movie..."
"39"
"The longtime host of...."
"William F. Buckley"

Hotel Bathtub actually had the correct directions for C and H. (Unheard of)

Hoosier. A word that if used in Indiana is NOT derrogatory. For example, as seen on a Billboard somewhere south of Indianapolis: "16,500 Hoosier jobs"...

Katie Lew is back from Africa, and I still haven't seen her.
Angela has a new apartment, and I haven't seen it.
I have a new white canvas and I haven't touched it.
I have a wooden floor in my bedroom and I haven't seen it.
I have seen a volleyball and my work computer screen.

So I got that goin for me.

I also almost held my bladder for the entire drive to Indy. I almost made it. It was almost impressive. (Considering I had to go the second I got in the truck to leave).

You MIGHT be a redneck if...

You tailgate at your mom's funeral.

Let that soak in.

True story. Someone I'm related to did just that.

Unbelievable. Nothing shocks me anymore.

Also worth mentioning... WU wins.

I sooo hated to post over the foil thing..

But we can't live in the past.

AND Wash U starts their post-season this Friday, so I had to advertise for the girls. (Friday at 7pm) Usually free, but since it's a tournament game, tickets are like 3.50 or something.. still the best cheap entertainment in town if you ask me... So go see them.. either Friday at 7 and potentially Saturday at 7 if they put the smack down.

Work has been crazy. I flop between feeling like a champ and a chump almost indistinguishably. It's good to keep humble I suppose, but it's really hard to feel like a moron all the time. Sometimes the only time I feel purposed is getting the trivial pursuit question of the day correct. Small victories.

I've been playing copius amounts of volleyball lately. It's not that I'm sick of playing (heck no) but I'm so busy all the time. It's three nites a week. Take out bible study nite and that leaves me with zero free nights with which to let things develop spontaneously. Very sad. But.. I am getting to play a ton of volleyball.

Been having discussions lately about getting older. It's so weird. I'm 26, and getting to 27 (in September) sounds SOOooo much older than 26. Is it because now you round up to 30? I think I'm going to like being 30 because there is a fair amount of drama to leave behind, but I also when I whine about being single people have stopped saying: "Shut up, you are only twenty three" it's more like "Yeah...yeah, that would be hard." So the nightmare that I'd been having since I was 19 about being unmarried at 30 seems closer and closer at hand, yet, somehow I'm ok with it. Ultimately, we just aren't here for very long. I would rather not waste anymore precious time in bitterness or jealousy. I am CERTAIN that is nowhere in the plan for Lindsey's most effectively lived life...

I also think that I have too many theories about life. (Think I just heard an "Amen") I think I have too many quick fix type answers to things, and that the real things that matter in life are much more habitual. Like honesty, integrity, discipline, faith, prayer, friendship, patience, forgiveness. They are not glamourous by any means, not trendy or new ideas, but they work and have worked for centuries.

Left foot, right foot, breathe.

Jesus, help me do the harder day to day work of being non-glamourous, of being faithful. I heave my broken self up onto your surgeons altar and say. "Fix me."

While you are at it.. I could use some new knees for playing volleyball.

Foiled Again!

Let this be a lesson to you. Don't turn 50 in our office.


Funny.



Funnier still ...is the foil disco ball memento of the occasion:

There IS no doubt...
This IS my best post ever...

Inspiration, Investigation... Carbonation.

In my office building, the coke machine that has been there since day one of my employment, dropping 24oz. bottles of Coke, Diet Coke, Coke with LIME (blech), and tons of other worthless bervages that market research has told them too... FINALLY added to it's arsenal one solitary chute that contains my beloved diet black cherry vanilla coke.

It was one of those great suprises. I faithfully (some could say naively) look everytime I go up to the break room to see if they have added a diet cherry, or even a diet vanilla, never daring to hope for the joy of seeing a diet black cherry vanilla... but today was the day...

And the peasant rejoiced.

My mom is here this weekend for an old fashioned sleep over, just the girls, exploring furniture stores that have never been explored before, watching movies we've seen a hundred times, laughing the laugh of people who share DNA. It's good to be friends with your mom. We dropped my pop off at the airport for his annual week-long golf outing with his boys, and never have I seen a grown man so excited. My mom described him correctly as a "worm in hot ash." He shows up with his suitcases at my door at 12:45 for his 5 o'clock flight. (I live seven and a half minutes from the airport).

Adorable.

I am feeling inspired lately. Inspired probably by God, but through some unlikely people, situations and conversations in my life. Inspiriation that comes from the least likely of places tends to be God tugging at me more often than not. The question that begs to be answered as God stirs my own hot ashes and breathes on them, is "How am I going to respond?"

I long to utter the tear-stained words of Bastien in the Neverending Story: "I'm not afraid anymore, I will do what I dream."

I hope and pray that I look back on my life and see a life poured out, completely emptied.

I hope to be linked up with other believers who, like my subs in the college b-ball days, allow me to run until my lungs burn, to spend everything, to hold nothing back. So that I know that when the race becomes too long, when my stamina fails, they will tap in spell me until I can hydrate and return the favor.

(In the meantime, I've bought some acrylic paints... Bob Ross does make it look so easy...but happy little trees are all he ever did. I don't think he explored his full potenial. I just looked at some stuff that was upward of 300 bucks and thought to myself... "Pshaw, I can do that".

Well. I can't. But I'm gonna keep trying.)

And not just because everyone else is..

Giving Bono his props...
I like this guy. I really like this guy.

?

Just found a pair of pants....inside out... hanging on the coat rack in my living room... they are my brothers... and he moved out a month ago.

That's it.

This is why Liz is Awesome:

Liz made these. They are quilts. Well, ulimately they are high-res photos quilts. But with her own two hands, she has sewn herself into contention for an "Addy" which is an award given in the Advertising world. (Amendment: She has WON two and is up for EIGHT) I'm so excited for her about this.

But I've seen them in person and they are Beautiful. Just Beautiful.

Plumbing Code...

OK. Plumbing Code: All I was going to say about this is God bless America, and the Webster Groves Municipality. I went online to try to figure out how the )@($&^ to get a bathroom put into my basement. What I found were pages and pages of code.

For my job I often get to sift through pages and pages of code about hazardous materials, fire protection, explosion proofing, midget revolt mitigation and the proper handling and storage of deceased persons. Can get very indepth. HOWEVER, I like that they exist. I like that some crusty old engineer a billion years ago and his cronies sat around a table with torches and a gong and conferred and discussed the intended spirit behind the stack of dead trees that would be the Webster Groves Municipal Code. One day the black smoke rose through the city hall chimney and it was done.
I'm very glad indeed. Iif I sound insincere, I assure you I'm not, I love that there are authorties that exist soley to ensure domestic tranquility. It's a pain to sift through and comply with at times, sure, but there seems to be a desire for building excellent homes, and ensuring safety and correcting mistakes that others have made. Hmm.. seems straw is NOT a good choice for building material. This we learn from the three little pigs. The third one, who built his house out of brick, is now and Alderman. His name is Rex. Anyway. I digress. My point is. I like laws that protect me. I like that God gave us his laws so that the wolf wouldn't eat me. I like that people still try to make order from chaos because it's what we were put on earth to do.

OK Gay Hairdressers: I got a haircut today and I used a new stylist at my normal salon. Don, my former favorite gay hairdresser moved to Phoenix. Ray, the second replacement gay hairdresser was busy tointe, and so I recieved Jeremiah. He was a nice looking man, seemed obviously gay, and very well kept and sharp. We get to talking and he asks me if saw the TV cameras out front. Apparantly they were doing something for the super bowl and asking St. Louisans questions or something, and he commented that his co-worker Angie was interviewed and he was not, he explained that Angie hated being on TV because she always looked like a crazy person, and then he said "I always come out a little too gay"

As I sit and dare not laugh. I did not know how to respond. A minute or so (and by a minute I mean an eternity) passes, and he says "I'm NOT, you know". Sure. He proceeds to explain that he is the proud father of 7 and the grandfather of 3. I was floored. This was obviously the most metrosexual man I'd ever met. How many straight male hairdressers do YOU know?

I just don't know still if he was yanking my chain to see if I'd buy it or not.... he may be having a good laugh as we speak at the naive mid-western gal who bought is pseudo family story.

Who knows. It was awkward theatre at it's best.

OK. New awesome roomate: KT Lew is the best!

OK. Jesus Stuff: Heard a great (maybe the best) sermon I've ever heard today from they guy at the Journey about THE GOSPEL. He said so many great, soul-balmy things, but the best was a tie between these: "Christ lived the life I should have lived, and died the death I deserved to die so that I am able to reap the reward that was to be bestowed on him." Or something to that effect, it wasn't his, it is someone elses quote. The other thing he said was "other religions are books of good advice with a little bit of story thrown in, and Christianity differs and the bible differs because it is really a book of a great story with some good advice thrown in."

I go to church and to my mentors and to my bosses even, and constantly say to them "What should i do now?" "How now shall I live?" "How many old ladies to I have to help across the street until you accept me?" Answer. Silence. Silence. Silence. The cross is a legal transaction. It is not to be minimized but not to be reduced by slapping formulas and rules onto it. It is not to be built into a set of regiments which our own consciences call into constant doubt. It is a humble confidence that there is a God. I am not Him, and he has accepted me on the merits of Christ. Not mine. It's so easy and simple.

I'm free to love and free to neither be insecure or superior around ANYONE. Because Christ is the measure that I could not attain.

I need this truth everyday. For my health.

Ok. Liz is awesome: I'll tell you why as soon as I find out if it's confidential or not.

Ok. Disclaimer: Since I've gotten braces, not only is my speech muddled, and confusing, but my thoughts seem to be as well. I think the metal is interrupting the firing of my synapses. It's really rather weird. That is my defense for everything unintelligible that comes out of my head for the next 6 months. Just so you know.

Ok. Hotel Rwanda: Good movie just saw it on DVD. It's got... Joaquin in it. Of course it does.

They will know we are Christians by our T-shirts.

"It is easy for Christians to say today, "Well, yes, this is true. We've got to teach the truth, obey the truth, and believe the truth about Christ. And of course, we've got to stop doing the things the world is doing." That is as far as they go. Have you heard Christians get up and testify along this line? They say, "I used to smoke and drink and dance and go to the movies and play cards and gamble and all these terrible things. But I don't do any of them any more. I believe in the Lord. I've stopped all these things." They leave the impression that it ought to make everyone become a Christian, to see such a tremendous change.

But what you discover, soon enough, is that people are not a bit impressed by what you have stopped doing. Not the least bit. Why, worldlings can stop doing these things if they have a good reason. And they do it. If that is the basis of your Christian testimony, you have got nothing more to say than they do. No, the world is not a bit impressed by stopping something. What does impress them is seeing you do something they cannot do. That is love. That is why John says that the third mark of a genuine Christian is that he begins to love---not those that love him (anybody can do that, is Jesus' remark)---but beginning to love those who do not love you; to treat kindly those who mistreat you; to return good for evil and to pray for those who spitefully use you; to welcome and treat kindly those who are against you and are trying to hurt you. This is the mark, isn't it? You no longer treat those who have needs around you with callous indifference, but you respond to them and do not shut them out of your life." --Ray Stedman on 1 John

Curses, Jim !!

I'm apparantly a low-ranking nerd.. Which seems like the worst kind... just cause I can recite the whole periodic table of the elements does NOT make me....

nevermind.

Goldi-Linz and the Three Bears

Some say too fat,
Some say too tall,
Some thought her beautiful,
Some thought she "had a good personality"
Some say too smart,
Some say too dumb,
Some say her teeth jutted out at funny angles,
Some say she should have left them be,
Some say "Get that girl a Mic"
Some tell her to keep her day job,
Some say she sucks at her day job,
Some say works too hard,
Some say too lazy,
Some say too loud,
Some say too quiet,
Some say too messy to be healthy
Some say too clean to be happy,
Some think her a saint,
Some know shes a sinner,

She thought she was all wrong,

He thought she was just right.
He said:

"Just to be with you, I'd do anything, theres no price I would not pay.
Just to be with you I'd give anything, I'd give my life away."

She said "Sweet, I'll listen to you instead."

Not Your Usual

WU LOST TO NYU. Blech. NYU is the quintessential "bad" guy of all sports movies ever made. They wear black shoes and black socks, have black uniforms edged with purple, and wear their greasy hair slicked back into tight little ponytails. And, in general, are thugs. The white team lost this time, and deserved to lose it, they had no fight in them. Came close to pulling it back out, but did not.

As I sat with my left knee throbbing with sympathy pains, I decided I didn't miss it that much.

Ol' Blue Eyes on the Journey:

But not as sad as it sounds:

Thanks for the memory
Of things I can't forget
Journeys on a jet
Our wond'rous week in Martinique
And Vegas and roulette
How lucky I was

And thanks for the memory
Of summers by the sea
Dawn in Waikiki
We had a pad in London
But we didn't stop for tea
How cozy it was

Now since our breakup I wake up
Alone on a gray morning-after
I long for the sound of your laughter
And then I see the laugh's on me

But thanks for the memory
Of every touch a thrill
I've been through the mill
I've lived a lot and learned a lot
You loved me not and still
I miss you so much

Thanks for the memory
Of how we used to jog
Even in a fog
That barbecue in Malibu
Away from all the smog
How rainy it was

Thanks for the memory
Of letters I destroyed
Books that we enjoyed
Tonight the way things look
I need a book by Sigmund Freud
How brainy he was

Gone are those evenings on Broadway
Together we'd go to a great show
But now I begin with the Late Show
And wish that you
Were watching, too

I know it's a fallacy
That grown men never cry
Baby, that's a lie
We had our bed of roses
But forgot that roses die
And thank you so much

Good Things

Randoms fragments of my past few days: Car broke, car fixed. Brother moving out, sad. Kaite Lew moving in, happy. Really bad day at work last week. Really fantastically fun office Christmas Party shennanigans this past weekend. Long story short, I was the killer in the murder mystery dinner theater thing, and the acting troupe offered me a job.

I'm off to Philly this week for a work thing, and seeing a good friend in the process, would love to get into see Body Worlds (that thing we tried to see in Chicago, but realized it was nearly impossible to get in without a reservation... at 10:30 pm the place was packed.) but looks like they are sold out again.

I have reverted back to junior high and have my third set of braces. Which means I'm into keylime yogurt and making up code words for people telling me I have junk in my teeth. i.e. "there are escapees caught on the fence" or "the cheerleader got stuck in the hoop"

I am knee deep into Season Five of the West Wing and still have an inappropriately high interest in Josh Lyman. The world is a great place when I can stick a DVD into my laptop and take it down stairs with me, fold laundry, and then take it back upstairs without missing a syllable of the witty banter. My kinda Sabbath.. heck yeah.

Life is life, God is Good, all the time.

Today, I was wearing an ancient pair of pants. I notice that the teeth to my zipper had ripped away from it's fabric. The zipper still works, but wasn't attached to the pants on one side.

I just recently got braces which has regaled me to a liquid diet and over-frequent trips to the bathroom. The fly issue was bugging me (since I was seeing it so often) and not to mention had the potential of exposure at any moment. Normally, that wouldn't bother me, because it wasn't gaping open, but we had clients in the office today, so after restroom trip number 5, I get the brilliant idea to just staple my fly shut.

Ask me if I took a staple puller with me on trip 6? ...I didn't.

...Idiot.

I should apply to be a carnie.

Cutting Edge

Oh.. and just in case you were wondering. Diet Black Cherry Vanilla Coke = Good.

It's so new I couldn't even find a picture. I'll have to take one myself.

Oh.. AND I know some of you were wondering what the big deal was with coke zero? I figured out that it's got 0.7 calories per can. Which, I feel, is misleading. Marketing Bastards! That is not zero...

Some other random ingredients differ too including slightly less sodium, but I don't know if it tastes different than DC or not.

Regular Diet Coke has 1 calorie. I could have sworn it's also listed as zero calories on the can...

Now you know.

20 Years of Fahey

I think there are some events in our lives that words definitely can't do justice to. For me one such event was being a part of Washington University's Womens Baskeball Team. Tonite was alumni night. It also marked Coach Fahey's 20 season coaching the bears.

This lady is amazing. I really don't know how to do her justice. She was so good at what she did. She made families out of perfect strangers, people who would never dream of getting along otherwise. She reached the top of every category of excellence possible in her field, and never lost sight of the fact that we were just college kids, so book-smart and so life-stupid, and somehow, never forgot that it was indeed, only a game. Just putting a ball through a hole, and keeping someone else from putting a ball in a hole. That's why it doesn't make sense, that the sum of it's parts don't add up to the whole of what it was. Why she chose to treat us like her kids instead of like her slaves. She didn't have to. Most coaches are all about the win, they don't have to explain their choices, but ours always did. She was fair and honest and one of the most moral people I have ever met, and still got the wins. (458 to be exact). I just love celebrating people who "do it right". It can be done.

Coach, I salute you.

It was the Best of Times...

I've tried three times to write this post.
2006 is finally here.

Kids. 2005 was pretty hard for me. The hardest year of my life. Definitely the best year of my life.

Sometimes you bleed just to know you're alive.

But out of the ashes came so many good things. I am starting to feel comfortable looking back at the pain of last year with new, dare I say, healed eyes to see it, instead of a soul so hurt and disoriented that it wanted only to tap out of everything so it didn't get beaned again.
Good news is I figured out a TON about myself. Figured out a TON about images and perceptions. Ones that I had of me, ones that I wanted other people to have of me, and ones that were actually true.

God saw me from day one playing house with him. Playing the Christian game, trying to act the part and He hated it, but He didn't hate me. He chose some events to make my faith real, to make it the bottom line versus the bonus line. To test my loyalties and smash my idols.

I worshipped the sacred raisin cakes.

But I'm farther than where I started in 2005. I'm nowhere near perfect, but I'm better than I was. And I guess that is really all any of us ever get to say.

With that said.. I leave you with my Best Moments of 2005:

Best Advice: "Don't be like Jesus, be with Jesus. It's the only way you will change."
Best Movie: "Walk the Line" and "Pride and Prejudice".
Best Coach Z-ism: "Chocolate Chorp Porn Cakes" by Mark Williams.
Best First TV Commercial: Liz Forsythe for Ameren UE.
Best new Blog friend: Bercos via Elisa via Shearman.
Best Meal: San Francisco, Valentines Day, Sushi Village, me, hot sake, 8 male co-workers, and the Sashimi boat.
Best Day: Uh.. Daylight savings day.. as usual. It was a hook-blade day.
Best New Marriages: Stiles, Millers, Murphys, Koziateks, Bethels, McKinleys, Woodards, Wilmots, Fabbianos, DeChamps. Rices.
Best Question by a Brit: (Say it with the accent) "Why is Markus sticking his head in the DMV and yelling 'Hammer Down'?"
Best "Old" Marriages: Wylies, Merrills, Holleys, Keyes.
Best Proposal: Annie! and Willie! (and me...I planted the brick... you know at the aporx.)
Best new Relationship: Jane and Casey, Leigh and Dave
Most Frequent User of the word "Turd": Kendra
Fastest courtship: Dee Dee and Shaun (engaged!)
Slowest recovery: Me over my Mono. (not to be confused with Moon over my Hammy)
Sadest goodbye: Packing Deana's furniture up from the DMV, and The Foxes last DR.
Best Purchase: Somewhere between my house and the Two-person Hammock.
Funniest joke about oven knobs: Jim and Brad at Jim's dinner party with the "Balls Hot" setting.
Closest to peeing myself: Organic Gorilla Munch.
Mom closest to peeing herself: Laughing at my dad in Vegas.
Best quote by a spiritual mentor: "Whoa Lindsey, God needs Clay, not Claymation..." Debbie Holley to me when I was jabbering on and on about something too fast.
Best news: D getting her job, and Caroline getting pregnant.
Best DR talk: Scott Sauls 04/24
Best Smallest Group: The Murphys heck yeah.
Best Road Trip: Melinda and I getting lost in the sketchy area of San Francisco, then driving up to Saulsalito.
Largest number of Chocolate martinis in one sitting: Four. (They are like Pudding pops melted into a glass)
Best Return from a Foreign Country: Angela, back from India.
Best Return from a non-foreign country: Mia Lucia back from Indy.
Best Gift: Lucinda Williams concert for my Birthday, Deana bringing the cooler of bervages over when I moved, Tall Socks from Annie just because, and "The Neverending Story" on DVD from myself.
Best Statement from a person of Flava: "Girrrrrl, Now you a Nice size. Not too big, not too skinny, you a nice size"
Best Use Of Labels: This
Best Performance in an Amateur TV event by an immediate family member: Jury still out.
Best Use of Bacon: Someone wrapped a baby in it an left it on my doorstep.
Best fake "Best": That last one.
Best real "Best": This one, because it is the last one.

Off to make some new ones.

I love ya Tomorrow... you are only a day away.

I-O-D-E-N-T

YES!! Saw Annie at the FOX theatre. It was ANNE-TASTIC. Boo.

I was exctatic when my roomate got me tickets for my birthday this year. Annie is one of the first movies I could recite backwards and forwards. I totally know all the songs by heart. Tonight, as we approached the theatre, I could tell by the sparkly headbands of the little girls piling out of mini-vans, that we were going to be the oldest people there by our own will.

I was right. No matter.

The movie that I love so much is pretty true to the original broadway showing, except for Punjab, the whole ending, the different songs, the omitted songs, the excellency of Carol Burnett as Miss Hannigan, IODENT instead of OXYDENT toothpaste, and the DANCING.

Other than that it was exactly the same...

Oh well. It was still very good, and I was very impressed by the character that played Sandy the dog.

(Little known fact. Sarah Jessica Parker played one of the Annie's in the original Broadway cast. )
(Additional Side note: Amy just said it was a whole lot more entertaining (her words) watching me sing the songs in the living room. )

Oh. I just love it! Schmabby, sing it with me now!!

Hey, hobo man, hey Dapper Dan
You both got your style, but brother
You're never fully dressed without a smile

You're clothes may be
"Beau Brumelly"
They stand out a mile, but brother
You're never fully
dressed without a smile

Who cares what they're wearing On Main Street or
Saville Row
It's what you wear from ear to ear (to ear)
And not from
head to toe that matters

So, Senator, so, janitor
So long for
awhile, remember
You're never fully dressed
Though you may wear the best
You're never fully dressed without a smile!!

I'm "All In"

Psalm 51 says: Create in me a clean heart... O God. The hebrew word for "create" used in that verse--"bara" is the word that means "to make something from nothing". Interesting that that word was NOT the hebrew word for "made" ("asah"). Not the word that means fashioning something that is already there, as to work in silver, gold or some other medium... it suggests that we must ask God to give us a whole new one. That the slate must be wiped, and we must completely start over, that the one we started with is just not salvagable. That.. to me... is good news.

The ones we start with are so defensive. When anyone gets too close to something that we cling to, we react, sometimes poorly, mostly in defense of whatever it is that we identify ourselves by. In Shakespeares words from Hamlet: "Methinks he doth protest too much."

Our hearts guard something about us. Every person was made to worship (and to fear) something. We just were. I've never met a single person who didn't manage their lives around something. The object of that worship can be anything, but it's most likely the thing you react to when someone attacks it. Maybe it's your kids, maybe your looks, maybe your income, sports ability. Whatever is most sensitive, whatever causes you to say "Man, where did that come from, why did I say that? Why did I react like such an idiot when someone poked that button?" Very raw, very human thing I've been interested to observe lately. The interesting thing is that I tend to like the people more that don't react to anything in a defensive personal way. (And I don't mean people who just kill the natural reaction) People who just smile, like my Great Aunt Norma, who once said, "I suppose I got the knees that God meant me to have." (She really is Great). People that just don't feel the need to defend, or else, the center of their being is so far into Christ that they know that the attack isn't directed at them personally, but at God himself, and God, in their eyes doesn't really need a defense. At least not a puny human one.

In a nutshell, I guess I don't know what I'm saying really. It's just interesting to me to watch what stokes people's fires sometimes. There were these two guys playing poker on TV the other day, and they were just mouthing each other all tournament long. They almost came to blows a few times, but it just was so obvious to me that they were both just scared to death to be beaten by the other, and they both felt this animal need to conquer the other and to tout themselves over the other. Literally, when the one guy finally won and sent the other packing, he stood up and hoisted his arms up over his head and walked around still jawing at the other guy (he wasn't even the last guy at the table)... the commentator says: "Some people win graciously, and then some people...."

I just got the book "Word Freaks" for Christmas. It is a book about the terribly interesting world of competitive Scrabble. My pastor used one of the lines in a sermon before, but I think it's so good I'm going to quote it again. This guy who won the national tournament one year was quoted as saying.."Basically this validates my entire existance...I'm not kidding." Ha. What is my scrabble? Or worse, what have I NOT achieved to date that I think WOULD validate my entire existance?

Competition. What is it? Why do we think that winning someting, just having some sort of relative (key word is most certainly 'relative', because I think there is something to be said for excellence just for the sake of excellence) superiority over someone else vindicates us, validates us?

Diana Barry: "Myra Gillis had 37 doilies when she got married, and I'm determined to have AT LEAST as many as she had."
Anne Shirley: "I suppose it would be impossible to keep house with only 36 doilies.

You know what? I'm tired. I think I'm officially giving up the rat race. I don't think there IS anything out there that would validate my existance. Not this superb blogthing, not my mark left on society, or comedy, or hairstyling, or good friendship, or the environment, or my lack of marital bliss, mastery of culinary arts. Nothing. There really IS no golden goose. I'm already as validated in Christ as I will EVER be. So.. with that, I think I officially am putting away my claws, re-sheathing my sword, putting the bitch to bed. I am putting her to bed. She is tired. She will choose joy because if someone does attack her, (and 99% of the time it's not really a direct attack anyway, but a ploy of the enemy) they obviously don't know who she is. They just don't realize that she is a blood-bought daughter of the creator of the universe, who has no time to get her feathers ruffled, there is simply too much joy to be had, to much encouragement to be given, to much life to be lived, to much freedom to be enjoyed.

Take my brother for example. He is pretty darn cool, and a big deal TV-star, he is a good deal funnier, knows his engineering stuff, and is much better looking than I, but I am not the least bit intimidated or competitive (save the friendly jeopardy game). Because I know that my folks don't love him more than they love me. It's just not the case. Maybe THAT is why some Christian people choose to call their fellow members "Brother Blank". Maybe it's to remind them (in an incredibly cheesy, really hard to believe sorta way) that we all have the same daddy, and he loves us the same, so there is no need to compete, no need to strive against one another. My Daddy does have enough love for all.

Loser

I recieved a Honeybaked Ham gift certificate for Christmas from my company and promptly mis-placed it, after telling my mom that I would bring home a ham for Christmas dinner.

I lament to my mom, after explaining the situation on the phone, "I'm such a loser" she replies "Aw... but your MY loser".

It was just what I needed to hear.

They will know we are Christians by our T-shirts.

"It is easy for Christians to say today, "Well, yes, this is true. We've got to teach the truth, obey the truth, and believe the truth about Christ. And of course, we've got to stop doing the things the world is doing." That is as far as they go. Have you heard Christians get up and testify along this line? They say, "I used to smoke and drink and dance and go to the movies and play cards and gamble and all these terrible things. But I don't do any of them any more. I believe in the Lord. I've stopped all these things." They leave the impression that it ought to make everyone become a Christian, to see such a tremendous change.

But what you discover, soon enough, is that people are not a bit impressed by what you have stopped doing. Not the least bit. Why, worldlings can stop doing these things if they have a good reason. And they do it. If that is the basis of your Christian testimony, you have got nothing more to say than they do. No, the world is not a bit impressed by stopping something.

What does impress them is seeing you do something they cannot do. That is love. That is why John says that the third mark of a genuine Christian is that he begins to love---not those that love him (anybody can do that, is Jesus' remark)---but beginning to love those who do not love you; to treat kindly those who mistreat you; to return good for evil and to pray for those who spitefully use you; to welcome and treat kindly those who are against you and are trying to hurt you. This is the mark, isn't it? You no longer treat those who have needs around you with callous indifference, but you respond to them and do not shut them out of your life."


Ray Stedman on 1 John

Of Note...

Today I witnessed an event firsthand that I once though was only a myth. I was stuck in the line at the Walgreens pharmacy behind a guy who was actually ASKING THE PHARMACIST QUESTIONS. I should have taken a picture and sold it to a tabloid.

Today I also witnessed one of the funniest things I've ever seen at a hockey game. Between the 2nd and 3rd periods, the audience entertainment contest was a race between four people. These people were in exotic bird costumes: a Chicken, a Flamingo, a Parrot, and some other gray bird. The costumes were made to look like they were riding on the backs of the birds, with fake human legs dangling around the birds necks. Much like this:

They were to race around four barrels placed at the corners of the ice. They start out and much like a dizzy bat race, they are all over the place trying to run on ice, but eventually the chicken gets the hang of it and pulls ahead. By the time he reaches the home strech he gets cocky and starts hot dogging by putting his hand up to his ear to egg the crowd on. We oblige. Then just as he reaches the finish well ahead of the other birds, he BITES IT. Falls down literally three feet from the finish tape. The flamingo gains on him, the chicken struggles and tries to army crawl his way over the line. It was painful and heartwrenching. Then when he realizes he will get passed up, and gives up trying to lug himself and the awkward chicken garb across the line, he turns to sabotage and tries to trip the flamingo. This may be one of those examples in life that just can't be captured by words, but it was just priceless. Even now, thinking about that stupid cocky chicken, I laugh out loud. Ha.

Also of note, an update on my situations, the oil got changed, the washer is fixed by some resourceful ingenuity by my father and I, the headlight is fixed, the garage door part is in my possesion, I have a new phone that only cost me 65 bucks and it's better than my old one, my bedspread came clean, and my brother is a college graduate. Hooray! Praise-ja Vu. (Like that one Ange?)

Not of note at all, I'm reading Memoirs of a Geisha. It's rather good. I tend to have the bad habit of not savoring anything, I've ravenously devoured it since buying it Friday morning. It's one of those things I just think about constantly and just need to get through it, I'll even skim pages I deem uninteresting to finish a book faster, to get to the meat of the story. I'm fascinated by the idea of a gray eyed Geisha. I didn't even know it was possible. I can't wait to see the movie.

Early Lang Syne

This year comes to a close. Soon it will be my first blog-iversary. We've laughed we've cried, we've been anonymously spammed. It's been a good year. I've needed this outlet very much.

I picture December as an old tired man, limping wearily along the calendar, taunting the children about the promise of Christmas break, and dragging down the rest of us with his lack of innocence and the cold brittle temperatures of his bones. He goes to sleep earlier and earlier everyday, depriving us of Vitamin D, and sending us into a reflective, depressive wintery state. He's had a full life, twelve months of joy and of sorrow. But Twenty Oh Five is tired and wants to call it quits. We all feel it.

Hang in there everybody, you only get one crack at the rest of December, Twenty Oh Five. And the '06 baby, while virginal and pure, he too, is just another old man in the making. Don't let this '05 old man get crotchity on you.

Or as I would say to Willie! Corchity.

Thinking about Thanks

I know it's well past T-givin. But I got to thinking about saying Grace before meals. Actually, I just got to thinking about the train made of cans. And I was just thinking about how much work got put into that silly thing. And how honestly glad I am that people got food. People who maybe wouldn't have gotten some that day if the train hadn't come together like it did. If we had dropped out, 2000 cans of pork and beans would still be sitting in a Schnucks warehouse somewhere. I wondered if those peeps were thankful (you know for all 'my' hard work). Bleck. Then in a millisecond, as light often comes, I was repulsed by the thought. I thought of how few times I bend my head, or still my heart to thank God for the meals I eat. I mean sure my paycheck feels like I earn it and buy things with it out of my very own strength, but when thirteen hurricanes hit the US, try to use that paycheck to buy a good tomato? Yeah good luck with that. It is an illusion, how independent we think we are of the good grace of God. I mean have you savored the little cherry tomatoes that you can get at Sams? Oh my word! They are like candy. Little oblong spheres of joy. I eat them by the handful, in a salad, or just, yeah by the handful. It's too good for words. In a season, a whole crop is gone. Or, in the blink of an eye, gas is 5 dollars an ounce. In an instant, the 401K you spent your whole life pouring into, gets shot to smithereens. For what? Investing in the security that you thought you had. Failing to praise the maker for what you had while you had it.

I say that not to sound self-righteous. I realize that I can get preachy sometimes, but know that I'm only speaking to myself in this venue. I do not trust Him a good deal of the time, and I certainly don't thank Him. Like the women at the shelter the other night, when the lasangna took a half hour more to cook, thereby postponing their regularly scheduled dinner. From some it was taps on the counter. "What is going on here?" "When will it be ready?" "What's the hold up?" We got untrusting prideful stares from women who had been out in the cold all day long, starving. Some where so hard, and indignant toward the good-intentioned hands that wanted to feed them. But some ladies were sweet. "Oh boy that food sure does look good over there...y'all are gooood cooks! Thank you so much." So weird to see such an obvious example of how God must see us as he tries to bless us. So crushing. I am so demanding, so impatient, yet I feel so entitled sometimes.

I laugh as I picture myself tapping on God's counter going.. "Isn't he ready yet?" "Where is my husband?" "Everyone else has eaten already" God (who I picture as Luke from Gilmore Girls in this analogy) says "We'll he's still frozen, and your still prideful, indignant and hard. Trust me, you don't want him now. You'll get salmonella. I am the cook here. You gonna trust me? Are you? And don't use cell phones in my diner!"

"Umm yeah. I guess. Those tomatoes you made....those are looking pretty good over there... Lordy, you are a good slow cook, a giant spiritual Crock Pot."

Rains, Pours Yadda Yadda Yadda.....

Just when you think you have your spiritual life sort of in a place where it is going to stay for awhile, your practical life (for lack of a better word) goes to pot.
Number one, my sewer backed up on me. Pipes are supposed to slope to the street. Mine don't.
Number two, my garage door opener gears are stripped.
Number three, my furnace sounds like an old man.
Number four, I need my oil changed and literally haven't had time to get it done in the last three weeks.
Number Five, My check engine light is on, washer fluid is filled, and my headlight is out. (I count those all as one, I suppose).
Number six, I stuck a can of diet cherry coke in my purse this morning on my way out the door to church. I forgot about it, and came back to the house and set it on my bed. It sprung a leak, soaked my densely-written-in-purple-ink 'to do' list, stained my bedspread purple and ruined my phone.
Number Seven, I can't wash my bedspread or any of my monster mountain of clothes because my washing machine is broken. Thats makes two broken washers in the last year.
(And my roomie gets to add a minor car accident to her list of annoyances, as the house related ones affect her too.)

So to recap....
I can't wash anything, call anyone, drive anywhere, park in my garage, or spend any money because I haven't got the roto-rooter bill yet. I don't even know where to start.

In spite of all this, I'm in very good spirits, as I said, I am spiritually feeling pretty good. Presents are all wrapped, baking is done. Work is good. Listened to a ton of Beth Moore this week, got my shipment of her cd's in the mail, and they are as ever, so great! I had the pleasure of dinner and a chick flick (Pride and Predjudice) with a very good friend of mine Friday night. It was the perfect girl nite. Very encouraging discussion, and good times.

I'm also in good spirits because I got to work at the Grace and Peace women's homeless shelter last nite, and it was very humbling. I feel so overwhelmed sometimes with the amount of hard stories there are. I have a roof over my head, a family that loves me, a great job and food on my table. Life is ridiculously good. The trick is deciding that it would still be ridiculously good even if I didn't have those things. Jesus said "I am the bread" and in Him we have life and breath and our being, the rest of it, Maximus, is shadows and dust. Concretely, I'm not sure how that works, but in my spirit, I know it is true, because there are times when I have indeed had everything, and it wasn't enough. So it stands to reason that if all I had was Jesus and nothing else, that it would somehow, inexplicably, be enough.

In the meantime. I'm not ignoring your calls. Thank God the internet still works.

Sometimes Beth Says it Best

"I can say without stuttering that in my 45 years of living I have NEVER had a man be as mean to me as women have been...

Now I've had them be stupid, Amen?"

30 days

I have Buddy from Charles in Charge to thank for my ineptitude in remembering the rhyme for the months.

In one episode, Buddy screws something up thinking that there are only 30 days in August, and proves it by matter of factly reciting the following:

30 Days hath September, April, August and November....

As a result, that rhyme does not work for me. For I have to sit and think which month then replaces August. It's quite a dilemma. I like a good mnemonic device, but damn it Buddy you've ruined me.

How we spend our days...

Is in essence, how we spend our days.

So how have I spent my days? Sometimes I censor details in the interest of being interesting. Most of the time even when I do that I'm not very interesting NO it's TRUE. Smiling to myself as I recall many a blather recorded on this webarena that has the appeal of a piece of dryer lint.

More lint you say? Ok then...just for you.

Anyway. I'm in a small group now at church. I've been terrified of vulnerable community as of late, but this is going rather well. Doing life with folks IS a good thing. Don't kid yourself. We need people. No man is an island.

Also starting to hang out with kiddos in sunday school which we don't want to call sunday school but have yet to give it a better name. I like kids. I used to think the junior high ones were from a different scary planet (I thought that even when I was one) but I do like them, and they are very cool. Maybe I'll have some after all. Excited about investing in them more.

Work has been going very well, it's the perfect mixture at the moment of interesting, challenging, monotonous work and I love being there. I really do. How many people can honestly say THAT? I leave for Syracuse on Thursday of this week, and if any of you are in the greater Syracuse area, my colleague is meeting our client for dinner... I guess I am too. That made no sense.

Volleyball double header tomorrow nite. How I love volleyball. Insert gushies here about the heart leaps and soul smiles that come with a double header championship game.

Annie! won a thousand bucks on the radio. Sheesh. If it's Williams related, it doesn't even suprise me anymore....

FUNNY. A gal in my small group told the funniest story tonite. She works as some sort of teachers aid (sorry not exactly sure what she does) works with little kids and interacts with some hilarious parents. Isn't there some joke about parenting being one of those things anybody with a pulse is allowed to do, but we require licenses for fishing? If it's not, it should be.
I digress... A parent at her school brought a cake in for her sons birthday. My friend (I'll call her "Cary") says to her "Wow this icing is really good, it's not at all like store bought icing" to which the mom replies: "Oh it isn't just any old store bought cake! It's from Derbers." Cary has never heard of this place, and it equating it with a Straubs, or a whole foods, or something exotic. Shocked that Cary had never heard of Derbergs, they have this giant country club-esque discussion about where Cary shops and why she doesn't know this place. "Schnucks? Pshaw... it's soooooo much nicer than Schnucks. Seriously." Finally, after painful agony, and what seemed like hours, it comes to light that the lady is indeed trying to say DIERBERGS.

Shoo a sista is laughin.

My brother's TV debut came and went, and was awesome. He did well. Fun times. Had all of his buddies over to watch it at home, and they are so funny. He is one of the few people I know who has great relationships with his high school buddies still. It's nice. All my high school friends all moved away. (Understandably so).

I realize I need to talk with my roomate about this incredibly weird conversation we had about Christmas decor. We were talking about whether or not we get a tree this year. I'm thinking automatically "I can't really afford a good artificial one this year". And I totally dismissed the possiblity of putting up an actual tree. I'm a dork. That is totally what we should do. Here I was denying my capitalist pagan roots....

Side note, I had a friend in college who was jewish, who decorated a tree as a part of their traditional... tradition. They called it a Hanukkah bush (sp?). I think that's great.

I also had another friend in college. That made two.

I love tea. Especially green tea. Especially mint green tea. With one sweet and low packet. Oh yes, tasty. I've been to Kayak's twice in the last week after having never been there before. I had a delicious cup with my dear friend Angela, and then tonite stopped in for another before small group. And I have a rant about Washington University. I park in the Kayak lot. That has giant signs that say "retail parking only" I think to myself, 'I'm a retail person! I can park here!" I was in there less than five minutes, and I come out to a lovely yellow pain in my arse of a wupd parking ticket for the expired meter at 7pm. Are you serious? Can WU really commandeer a parking lot? Kayaks is a public establishment, I don' t have to be from WU to go there, and it's not even technically on campus... don't get me started. Wu can't have ANY MORE OF MY MONEY. I threw it away with flair. I hate WUPD. Their little yellow attempts at control....

On the flip side, in the good little piece of paper catergory, I got some coupons to First Watch today. Buy one get one free for any entree. Anyone want to get treated? I can hook you up. Call me we'll do lunch.

I saw a machine on video at work today that has a vision system that picks up catheters from a random loose spaghette-like pile, and using robots, threads them into a shape, and then seals them up in a package, that is way more intersting and unique than it sounds, I promise. Take my nerd-word for it.

All in all. Feeling good about life. Things are rather splendid.

Linty Murl out.

Oh Love that will not let me go.

A story I found, may be an urban legend, it's from a source quoting a source:

It is the story told of a pregnant young woman who prematurely gave birth to her first child. The doctors quickly observed major problems. After many surgeries and procedures, the couple rejoiced at their child’s restoration. In the last procedure, the oxygen tube was mistakenly disconnected for several minutes and the baby’s brain was deprived of oxygen, leaving her blind and unable to hear, speak, or walk. After hearing the news, the couple’s pastor rushed to the hospital to find the young mother holding her baby, singing to her. He said, “I am here but I don’t know what to say.” And the mother replied, “It’s okay. We are doing fine.” Caught off guard, the pastor asked how this could be in the midst of such pain. She said, “I have been thinking of a scene which has given me comfort. I picture a huge stadium with thousands of people and a platform in the middle. I see God on the platform holding this baby girl and saying ‘Who will take this one? She will never walk, never see, and never speak. She will never be able to return love to anyone. She will cost you everything you have and you will get very little in return. Who will take this baby?’ I see myself standing up in the back row and coming forward saying ‘I will take her. I will make her mine.’” The amazed pastor asked how she could have such peace. The woman said, “In my mind I think of the same stadium with thousands of people and the same platform. This time God stands on the platform holding my hand and saying ‘Who will take this woman? She is rude, arrogant, selfish, greedy, worldly and self-absorbed. She is ungrateful for all she has and will never love as she ought.’ About this time I see Jesus stand on the back row and move forward, saying, ‘I will take her. I will make her mine.’”

O Love that will not let me go,
I rest my weary soul in thee;
I give thee back the life I owe,
That in thine ocean depths its flow
May richer, fuller be.

O light that followest all my way,
I yield my flickering torch to thee;
My heart restores its borrowed ray,
That in thy sunshine’s blaze its day
May brighter, fairer be.

O Joy that seekest me through pain,
I cannot close my heart to thee;
I trace the rainbow through the rain,
And feel the promise is not vain,
That morn shall tearless be.

O Cross that liftest up my head,
I dare not ask to fly from thee;
I lay in dust life’s glory dead,
And from the ground there blossoms red
Life that shall endless be.

(Sing that last part with a kitchy oompa-loompa beat. Rinse. Repeat)

Homestar Dusty is an Exceptional Televised Athlete

Whoops, I got the first time wrong, see correction in red for Sunday!
He won 5th place recently at the Pinnacle "Exceptional Driving" competition in Laughlin, Nevada. (And no that's not "wow you have no wrecks AND no parking tickets") That's Golf. Where not necessarly longest ball, but longest, most accurate ball wins. And Dusty got 5th out of 128 other amateur long drivers. Which gives him pro status, puts some cash in his pocket, and gets his mug on TV.
November 25 @3:30 - 4:30 PM on ESPN2.
November 27 @ 1:30 - 2:30 PM (CST) on ESPN.

And I'm his sister. Which makes ME cool.

Right?

Guys?

Hey wait up...

It's that time again....

That's right. At long last. This blogs humble beginnings chronicled many points of the 2004-05 Washington University Women's basketball season. I know that no one else cares about this.

But that is why this is my blog. I can put whatever I want on here. If Mark Williams can blog only monthly and put pictures of giant octoblerones on his, then I can certainly plug the red and green.

Enough apologies.

This weekend, the gals opened up the '05-'06 season in typical fashion, two games, two wins. They have some freshmen that need to learn the system still, and overall they looked pretty weak on D, but that will come. Anytime you beat DePauw by more than ten, you are doing alright. Wash U also beat the former national champions, Milikin, (who are still ranked number one in most polls) in a scrimmage a few weeks ago. So they are showing great promise.

This picture I posted is one of my favorites in print from my era. It's my classmate Tasha Rodgers, arguably the best athlete to come through the program, and my assistant coach, the giant teddy bear that is Coach Cochran, or as we affectionately referred to him "BC". They are celebrating after our second National Championship, Tasha had 23 points.

I, on the other hand, had a turnover that made the other teams highlight video. It was played over and over again during the broadcast of the tournament selection show the next year with the whole team and all our families in attendance. (They still gave me a ring).

Good times ;)

Yeah Bears.

Eaten Alive by Wolverines or the Garage.

I stole this from the blog of Scott Adams the Dilbert guy. This imagery made me laugh out loud.

"Today I am whacked out on pain killers because yesterday I had surgery to correct my deviated septum. I didn’t ask a lot of questions about the procedure but I can deduce most of the details based on the way I feel today. Apparently doctors shove a starving wolverine into one nostril, where it scratches and eats until it hits brain. Then they pull him out by his tail. Nurses stop the bleeding by packing each nostril with a queen size mattress that is carefully wrapped around a wino."

Not much else to report.

But I was held hostage by my garage door today. It got off kilter in the tracks somehow. And it did, like a rat looking for a cheeto in a maze, take me a few minutes to get out. It was really cold, and it was morning. You know I rarely have anything brilliant going on upstairs before noon anyway, and couple that with my poor circulation and lower than normal body temperature..It must have been how cavemen felt. So after tapping the door three times with my car, it sprung open and a genie popped out.

Several times I almost thought it was going to be a real issue, like "I have to call into work, I"m going to be stuck in my garage forever." until the inner voice of calm that is Murl says "This is a garage. You are not trapped without food or water in an elevator or something even relatively small. And the side door still works. The people-sized one."

I could explain my attempts at getting out of this contraption, but it would be snoozerific. So I will spare you. Lets just say I learned a lot about my garage door. And about how you can't prop it up with a garden rake. And how I'm glad there weren't small dogs or children around when I tried to prop it up with a garden rake.

Funniest part may be when I eventually did get out of the garage, out of habit I hit the button and it closed. I backed out of the driveway and by the time i reached the street (read BIG time delay) I finally noticed that it had worked.

I was cold.

Change and Closure

So I had lunch with my old arch nemesis today. Some of you heard me talk about her and our struggle to coexist peacefully at our office back in the day when our noses sat thirty-five inches away from each other in the tiny office we used to share. We were both proud and stubborn, and so wanting to "fix" the other one in "christian love" that we beat ourselves senseless.

We sat in that room together for almost a year. Polishing. Annoying. Irritating. Ignoring. Sometimes crying. It was awful. A terribly painful and long experience for me and I know for her as well.

I am not a morning person. She actually tried to talk to me before noon. She is a minute detail person. I am a big-picture dynamics person. She stuck her neck out. I buried mine in the sand. She had this sinus thing that drove me crazy, said "Rum" instead of "Room"and well, I'm sure I did somethin.

But we both call ourselves Christians. This means we tried. We really tried to submit and to yield and to give in and give up and let the other one have the honor, only something would always stir our competitive spirits toward one another. We tried and prayed together and shared and stuggled to see eye to eye.

To summarize. Girls are just crazy. Especially girls who feel they still have worth to prove.

We eventually moved out of the same office before I stapled my earlobes shut. She eventually followed God's calling to plant a church out in Seattle near her in-laws. I jokingly told people God took her to Seattle for me. I was kinda relieved, to be honest. Maybe overjoyed was the word. I loved her. I really did. But I didn't like her very much. Now, still working for our company, she flys into the office to do work sometimes. The first time I saw her I didn't know how I would react. We were not friends. We were more than that. It's so weird.

So we kept saying that we needed to get together and catch up when she was in town. Usually when we got together it was one of two things. Her condescending on me. Me feeling my usually-dormant national champion competitive spirit rise up, or worse, us gossiping about anyone and everyone we could in the office. You know, in that crappy way that Christians sometimes do...

Today's lunch started out like any other. We were discussing some drama and what the cures are and why everyone is so negative all the time. Getting rather personal in some instances. And we ordered food at Bread Co and I felt the Spirit say gently "Linz, don't do this. Don't let her do this either she doesn't want that." I, ignored it, and started back in when she sat down, but she interrupted me mid-slander and called herself out and said, "Hey that was kinda gossipy wasn't it? I probably shared too much there. I'm sorry."

What? Who are you and what did you do with my arch nemesis? I'd never heard her call herself out before on that stuff. Especially when it was so heavily me too. It was awesome. I agreed and told her I had been thinking the same thing. We went on to have the best, most refreshing discussion about what God is doing in her life, and her marriage, and her heart. I told her about my new found grace (like cornflakes? "Taste it again, for the first time"). In her, I saw a woman maturing, still struggling to forget her old names, but one who was at PEACE. I used to think she put on this earth soley to get on my nerves. But now, I saw her as Beautiful. It was amazing. God gave me eyes. And I hope she saw what I now am... a person who is so consumed presently with believing who she is in Christ that no longer feels the need to compete and to strive to be liked or respected by her or anyone else.

We talked about the other doors she was closing in St. Louis and how it was timely, because she wasn't really going to be around the office in the forseable future, and maybe never again. It was like God came to lunch with us and said, "Hello Poppets. Not a single second of that time I made you spend together was in vain. Nor will any second anywhere else be wasted, because you are mine. "

Like a real live episode of 'Father Knows Best'.

Anyway. She also spoke of some things in her life that gave me thrills of joy to hear, and I told her how I was falling in love with Jesus again. I never thought we would ever be here. I never thought that she would change or that I would let her.

I'm not sure who bent more. I used to care who got that credit. But now I realize, that since we met in a mid-point at all, it means that it doesn' t really matter who bent more, because we got there. Got to this sparsely-inhabited land called "Unity". The credit really isn't ours to claim anyway.

God, in his mercy, ties up every loose end. Bottles every tear, only gives you what you can handle and will force you into situations that make NO worldly sense, that are strictly for Kingdom gain. I don't know how this story will glorify God really , because no one really knows it, but I pray it serves as a reminder of how intricately and SLOWLY he sometimes sanctifies us. This is over the course of 4 years, which in reality, is light speed, but I'm overjoyed at the moment. For the balm that God is pouring on my ripped and wounded places, for removal of old thorns in my side, and for his mysterious weave of 'coincidences' to glorify himself and bless the crap out of me. For freedom to love without condition.

I have tasted. The Lord is good. Hope that doesn't smack of Christian-ese. I'd rip out my heart and take a picture of it, if it could help you see what drives the words.

I THOUGHT I could!!!

We won a blue ribbon!! Well kids, the train that we built out of 2000+ cans of tuna, pork and beans, and pineapple is a winner. It got judged today at the St. Louis Mills mall, and won "Best Use of Labels". If you are in the area and want to see it, it's by the glow in the dark putt-putt place. There is still an award at large for Peoples Choice, so if you are there between now and November 17th, drop a vote for this little guy.
Chinese Dragon won jurors favorite which is sort of equivalent to "best in show". So the way i figure it, we got second ;). Hooray!
Here are some others that were there:
Chinese Dragon

Oscar the Grouch













Rosie the Riveter

Hungry Hungry Hippo:

Joy.

Yeah that's it.

Joy.

Oh yeah, and don't see Jarhead... unless you were a marine. Then see it and let me know if it's real. And if it's real...

Gross.

Call My Name.

The Neverending Story is my all time favorite movie. It was the first movie that I cried for joy in. You know at the end when Atreyu is riding through the field on Artax, and the music is playing. Man I just started blubbering and couldn't stop. I'm like 4. "Mom why am I crying and not sad?"

It stayed with me. Another quote that stayed with me throughout my life is this one:

Engywook: Next is the Magic Mirror Gate. Atreyu will have to look his true self in the face.

Falcor: So? That shouldn't be so hard.

Engywook: Oh, that's what everyone thinks! But kind people find out that they are cruel. Brave men find out that they are really cowards! Confronted by their true selves, most men run away, screaming!

The existance of the whole world of Fantasia hinged on whether or not this Empress got a new name.

Childlike Empress: "Born of the Word, the children of man, Or humans as they're sometimes called, Have had the gift of giving names. Ever since our worlds
began."

This flick is full of spirtual parallels. I thought of this the other night when Mike was speaking at Damascus Road. He talked about a very odd exchange in the Bible when Jacob was wrestling with God. I never really understood it until I looked, really looked (or, rather, Mike looked) at what was being said:

27 The man asked him, "What is your name?"
"Jacob," he answered.
28 Then the man said, "Your name will no longer be Jacob, but Israel, because you have struggled with God and with men and have overcome."

What is the deal? How cryptic! The key is what the name Jacob means. It means "he who deceives". I was reading this back story on a recent trip and I could NOT for the life of me figure out what was going on. Jacob and Esau. Fighting inside the womb.

Esau is an idiot. He sells his birthright to second born Jacob for a bowl of stew. But then Jacob steals his fathers blessing by dressing up like a goat to trick his blind father into thinking that he is the hairy red headed brother Esau. It's like a hebrew soap opera. But then Jacob in the end gets the blessing from God and from his father and all the marbles. Why? He cheated! It's not fair.

That's right. It's not.

That, I think, is the point. Jacob says "I will not let you go until you bless me". God says "What is your name?" And Jacob, exhausted from the fight, ashamed and beaten says "'The one who deceives'. That's my name. That's who I am."

But God says no. He says. "Your name will no longer be that, it will be "Israel" because you have struggled with God and men and overcome. I no longer see you as the deceiver that you were."

A new name. God gives us a new name after he beats us. After we cry uncle. We get to shed our old skin. Our old name. And it's beautiful defeat. Our hip is out of socket, and we walk with a limp from now on. But we have a new name. And we must not take it in vain.

But doesn't it drive you crazy? It's totally backwards. God wins. He takes the championship belt and the crown of roses and the robe with his name on it, and walks over to your corner and puts it on your head, and around your waist, and across your shoulders and carries you out to the shouts of the crowd to your astonishment and shock at first, then to your delight.

What is the name I used to have? Slut. Coward. Cheat. Lazy. What is my new name? Beloved. Forgiven. Daughter. Sister. Bride. He tells me again in Hosea. And again in Isaiah. And again in Romans. And again and again and again.

But we have an accuser who seeks to assist us in reminding us of our old names. Much like the thing in the Neverending Story:

G'mork: Fantasia has no boundaries.
Atreyu: That's not true. You're lying.
G'mork: Foolish boy. Don't you know anything about Fantasia? It's the world of human fantasy. Every part, every creature of it, is a piece of the dreams and hopes of mankind. Therefore, it has no boundaries.
Atreyu: But why is Fantasia dying then?
G'mork: Because people have begun to lose their hopes and forget their dreams, so the Nothing grows stronger.
Atreyu: What is the Nothing?
G'mork: It's the emptiness that's left. It's like a despair, destroying this world. And I have been trying to help it.
Atreyu: But why?
G'mork: Because people who have no hopes are easy to control. And whoever has ontrol has... the power!
Atreyu: Who are you really?
G'mork: I am the servant of the power behind the Nothing. I was sent to kill the only one who could have stopped the Nothing. I lost him in the Swamps of Sadness. His ame was Atreyu.

But Atreyu got through the Magic Mirror Gate. And past the Sphinx, whose eyes stay closed, until someone who does not feel his own worth tries to pass by.

Add this movie to my list of stuff I want.

Stuff I want*

I know this is weird, but I've never really had a list this long or expensive before. Thought I'd let you in on this:

1. Gas powered Leaf Blower
2. Digital Camera
3. A cheap fixer for my "HP" ipod.
4. Socks. Fun ones. Big ones.
5. A bathroom in my basement.
6. A volleyball court in my back yard.
7. Not another dish in my kitchen
8. The West Wing season 5!!!!!
9. Square One TV. In any viewable shape or form. DVD. VHS.
10. Braces.
11. A big fat power washer.
12. A new haircut with blonde in it.
13. A sugar daddy to purchase all of these things.

*of course this list is material, foolish and mostly said in jest...i have all i need, and then some....
**and "Knowing is half the battle" and other good moral redemptive stuff.