Good, ’cause I’m gonna….

For date night Tony and I loaded up the kids and went to the game on a whim,  seeing as how the kids had never been to a minor league game.

The night looked and felt like a modern-day Norman Rockwell painting: perfect Summer-evening weather, a small home town tucked into a valley, with blue-mountain views at every turn; our team in red, white and blue, the gigantic American flag with the National Anthem and everybody stopping in reverence, the smell of ice cream, hot dogs, and peanuts, traditional and non-traditional families littering the stands and kids EVERYWHERE.

The game had been fairly close all along, and coming into the 9th inning we were tied at 5 runs each.

An unfair call threw the game into a 10th inning.

A series of fast-plays and a home run by the opposing team catipulted the game into an 11th inning, in which we were down by one run.

AND THEN, it came down to THIS:

With one out, the pitcher walked our guy to first.

He again walked our guy to second, and another of our best batters walked to first.

And then oops he did it again, resulting in the bases being loaded.

Our batter walked up to the plate and swung, completely striking out.

11th inning, down by one, bases loaded, 2 outs and another batter took to the plate.

11th inning, down by one, bases loaded, 2 outs, strike ONE.

11th inning, down by one, bases loaded, 2 outs, STRIKE TWO.

11th inning, down by one, bases loaded, 2 outs, and HE HITS A HOME RUN AND ALL FOUR PLAYER RUN TO HOME PLATE.

And the stadium goes crazy, Red Sox 10, Hillcats 6.

AND, as if you could really top that, I’m going to try – even though I should quit while I’m ahead:

I confessed to Tony that I love odd sounds. Two that are on top are the THX logo that comes up when you are watching movies, and the turkey buzzer from the Between Two Ferns sketch with Zack Galifianakis and John Hamm (is your middle name Honey Baked?) Warning, it’s NSFW, or devout Christians for that matter.

The third sound that I’m in love with? The sound that the T-shirt gun makes.

Lo and behold, look what I found:

Yes dear universe, that is a T-shirt Gatling Gun that shoots 24 t-shirts in 10 seconds. I’m not gonna lie, I want one.

…and then we don’t keep them.

Life tends to get in the way.

However, we started something last year that got the ball rolling; we marked one off the list by attending the Fiddler’s Convention in Galax.

Since the ball is gathering momentum nicely, we are following through on our plan for this year:

This weekend we are visiting Biltmore:

Enjoy your weekend everybody, we’ll be here, in the rain.

Yeah, that concert. I hadn’t been wowed by their music previously, but they are a kicky little band live. It made for a great night in a great city with great friends. (AND I drove through downtown DC to get there – YAY me!)

I was in an upbeat mood and put on their cd, the Outsiders. They have a song called Won’t Turn Back, in which the lyrics say:

“so tell me why I should run for cover,
at the sound of the coming thunder…
all I hear is the cry of my lover,
so take your shot.
I won’t turn back.”

For my picture of the week occasionally I’ll take a thought that has stuck with me and google it, to see what comes up. In googling the phrase “won’t turn back” I got the following insanity:

This is from a sight called “married to the sea” and was a bonus because it is full of subversive, funny witticisms (click the image to go to the site). This picture for me has nothing to do with not turning back, so in an effort to be serious, I re-searched it and got this from Flickr:

That sums up the sentiment nicely, or at least better than a bear holding hands with a woman. And I got to thinking, what price would I pay (not being shot would be nice), what/who is the lover I am running to, and what will I not turn back from?

I have a few off the cuff answers…

I won’t turn back from Jesus, friendships, love, grad school, life when it gets hard…

My lover could easily be those same things; Jesus, friends, love, grad school, life at its hardest…

But what is the price I would pay to keep those things? That’s a lot tougher…what I would sacrifice varies according to each item, and sadly my answers conflict with one another. That one I can’t answer on the fly.

So, what about you?

]]> http://wittyandbrilliant.wordpress.com/2010/05/13/week-of-may-10-14/feed/ 0 Tina 23690_386946264165_540479165_3777753_5768887_n go-back-to-the-forest 2475614494_0e13784430 http://wittyandbrilliant.wordpress.com/2010/05/07/week-of-may-3-7/ http://wittyandbrilliant.wordpress.com/2010/05/07/week-of-may-3-7/#comments Fri, 07 May 2010 18:28:13 +0000 Kristina http://wittyandbrilliant.wordpress.com/?p=736 ]]>

It’s camp time again.

While it’s my favorite time of year, it is also the busiest. We’ve received 400 total   applications (both online and paper) in the office for youth camp. And while that is awesome, it equals one headache, two sore shoulders, and one data-entry-weary girl.

One of my favorite things to do is to make note of the names that entertain me, otherwise I would turn into one of those Exorcist-head-spinning people because the work is so tedious.

So, I offer you the following that have brightened my week:

• William Wallace who will be camping. (FREEEEEDOOMMMMMMMMM)

• Dr. Stiff, Dr. Childrens, Dr. Law, Dr. Seamons, Dr. Right, Dr. King, Dr. Young Lightbody, Dr. Wiseman, Dr. Darling, Dr. Livingood, and Dr. Mayo who treat these various children in their various cities.

• In case of emergency we are to contact April Bottoms, Mrs. Looney, Mr. Necessary, Mrs. Gross, Mrs. Brown, Mr. Castro (if only the first name had been Fidel), and Mrs. Maters (I want to assign her a new first name of “Toe”)

• the children of Michelle Williams, Jack & Diane

And then today I stumbled upon this fine, fine specimen which is a thing of beauty:

Child – Adam West

Emergency Contact – Pat Wright

Relation to child – Grandmother

]]> http://wittyandbrilliant.wordpress.com/2010/05/07/week-of-may-3-7/feed/ 0 Tina campposter300dpi http://wittyandbrilliant.wordpress.com/2010/04/23/week-of-april-19-23-be-loved/ http://wittyandbrilliant.wordpress.com/2010/04/23/week-of-april-19-23-be-loved/#comments Fri, 23 Apr 2010 15:33:08 +0000 Kristina http://wittyandbrilliant.wordpress.com/?p=715 ]]> After a life time of drama, baggage, and mental blocks, I am finally accepting that this is my fate…

i AM loved.

i AM free.

This artwork is available through the Relevant Magazine Store. If you click the image it will take you straight to it!

Dad loves things like space, Legos, airplanes, math…and his two girls. Hear that? 2. Girls. Neither of which do much math, play with Legos anymore, or fly planes.

Whenever I find something relating to any of the above topics, I’ll distract him from work with a quick “love ya” email and the link. This week I sent him the video below.

I liked the video, and quickly lost track of what Mr. Sagen was saying…I was instead focusing on the movie clips and if I could ‘name the movie’ before it flipped to the next one. Yep…I got sidetracked by the pretty pictures.

Dad on the other hand? He embraced it with all of the genius that swam by me in the gene pool. I felt like a tiny blue dot after hearing his spiritual view on things, and instead of repenting promptly asked him if he ever wished his two girls weren’t so shallow.

Instead, he responded with only the kind of love that a dad could have for his two brilliant, beautiful, and witty daughters. (I think Megan should do a post next, she is boat loads of entertainment)

And amazingly enough, this post actually proves my point. I can’t figure out how to imbed the video…so here’s the link instead: The World Would Be Better If Everyone Watched this Video and the following from my brilliant father:

I like the comment by one of the bloggers that says “I think of mankind not as something insignificant on any scale, but in the embryonic stage of something terribly significant.”

There is an equation in math, the inverse proportion, where y = 1/x.  As x gets bigger, y gets smaller.  As x gets smaller, y gets bigger.   As x approaches near zero, y approaches infinity!

(SIDE NOTE: I have read this paragraph I don’t even know how many times, and I STILL can’t translate it)

I have used this in numerous Bible studies, that if we are the “x”, where the “1” represents the true One, then the “y” of life becomes enormous as we, the “x”, submit and humble ourselves.  John the Baptist said, “He must increase, but I must decrease.” (John 3:30).  Job, considered a perfect and upright man (Job 1:1,8), still humbled himself and repented before God.  In so doing, became nothing (insignificant) in his own eyes, yet was everything God expected of him.  Paul said, “…when I am weak, then am I strong.” (1Co 12:10)

When we truly humble and submit ourselves to God, recognizing the folly, arrogance, self-centeredness, and indeed the insignificance of our human selves, it is then, I believe, that we begin to comprehend the true significance of what God intended for us as humans.  In fact, I believe it is only in that context that we can have any true perspective.

Carl misses one very significant, indeed crucial, fact!  In math, upon which astronomy heavily relies and Sagan would be intimately familiar with, there is a fundamental rule:  any number divided by zero is undefined.  You cannot divide something by nothing!  If x = 0, then y = 1/0 ??  How do you distribute something, or anything, among nothing?  The mathematical law of inverse proportion exists only as long as there is something there to divide by.  So, no matter how insignificant the earth may be, it still exists!  And how it came to be is NOT insignificant!  And every explanation other than divine creation fails miserably.

So, while it is critical that man should not “think of himself more highly than he ought” (Romans 12:3), we must realize that as an “x” we are never a zero!  We keep a proper perspective of ourselves in relationship to God, and in that we properly think of ourselves as insignificant.  However, as I, an “x”, become nothing in my own eyes under the will of my Savior, the “1” and only way to life, I begin to see “y” God is the infinite being He truly is!  But, once created we are never zeroes!  Never in God’s eyes!

While at the moment I am dealing with massive loads of burnout in every aspect of life I find it difficult to get excited by much right now. And yes, I am re-doing my 8 day bitterness buster too.

However, the wonder and excitement I hear in my dad’s words above is the same that I see and hear when we are together, relating to everything from a joke to the profound amount of grace God has granted our family. And that is why I respect his sweet, scholarly words of encouragement. Thanks Dad

I’ve been chided for being bitter, hence the reason I looooove this picture:

I am extremely “unsweet” and totally OK with that. It’s not a constant state of being, rather, it’s a slightly snarky side that I possess.

However.

A friend sent me a challenge that we are undertaking together, in which we live out Phil. 4:8.

To be straight up honest, I have sucked it up already! The concept is “simple”, you live out Philippians 4:8; thinking purely and positively, avoiding gossip, avoiding complaining and negative thoughts. This morning while reading the challenge for the day I wanted to punch the smiley face in the email, making that the 2nd failure on the 1st day of this enterprise.

While I can be fun and funny and full of orneriness, I have a side that is very realistic, steeped in concern and worry. Being a “linear thinker” I can tend to take a problem and let it consume me. I will (grudgingly) admit – I see the benefits in this 8 day challenge, and a part of me is panicking because I could possibly lose control of the parts that I think are intrinsically “me”. But then I think back to the person I was 2 years ago, and look at how much I’ve changed…and I know it’s possible.

In 8 days I could very well become a hippie-peace-and-love-flower-wearing child who insists on hugging every person I see, all the while wishing them hearts and granola, flashing them the Peace sign when we part ways.

Or, I’ll stubbornly hold onto my pessimistic “realism” and continue punching the monitor, getting madder for every day that I read the challenges and scriptures and principles and happy-talk.

Or, I’ll fall somewhere in between those two extremes. Maybe I’ll become nicer and calmer, happier and more at peace, still wanting to Christian-side-hug people but also living in the reality that every day presents.

I joked that this experience is like a colonic – it will flush my system of the waste that is taking up space, slowly poisoning me from the inside out. Who knows? It might turn into something that I pursue yearly, in an effort to purge the negativity that the year has presented me with. Maybe during those rough spells it will become something that I pursue monthly, in an effort to balance. Maybe it will become a way of life, and these principles that I’ve skipped over since childhood will stick and change me for the better.

Maybe this desire to be better, not bitter, makes up for failing twice this morning on the very FIRST day.

Guess we will wait and see!

I’d have to agree.

Sam brings me a great deal of happiness, and as much as I like   animals, I REALLY like this one, which is ironic considering I’ve always been a cat lady.

I’ve been chided (A LOT) for the sheer size of Sam. I never realized how large he was until I saw other Golden Retrievers. He is a little pony like…

I have a friend who consistently says that first time dog owners should have to follow a rule, saying that they can only get a dog that weighs up to 40 pounds. Sam here? He ways at least double, and almost as much as I do. He is shorter than me (barely) when he stands on his hind legs. We usually see eye to eye. He is taller than me when we sit side by side…

(Aren’t we adorable?)

(And, if you look closely you can see where his lip got cut when he got hit head on by a pick up truck – and then promptly stood up, brushed himself off, and came galloping back!)

I would have to say that Schultz was right. Happiness for me has been found in a giant puppy. I never would’ve guessed, because before the divorce I never cared one bit for dogs. I mean I’d liked them and often said I wanted one, but also in the same way I want a Camry – I never thought it’d happen.

And here I am. A dog owner. And not only that, a dog lover. I love this crazy pooch more than I can accurately put into words.

For all those who say I should have a dog that is my size, I’d just like to say that I don’t think life works like that. You don’t pick love based on a list of requirements, specifications, or “how it looks”. Are we an odd mix? Definitely. Are we happy? Look at him – he smiles!! Are we in love? Definitely.

Plus, just know this, it could always be worse. The last two pictures are NOT Sam, and were sent to me in a forward and through an im, and I have them for ‘proof’ that size doesn’t matter.

One of my child-hood friends was delivering her first born on a Sunday night in July, and we were all anxiously awaiting Grace’s arrival when out of the blue Mike Rowe (and a Dirty Jobs marathon) came into my life and three dirty years later, hasn’t left.  Amber’s brother, Corey, had turned the tv to the Discovery channel while we waited. One episode in and I was smitten. It’d be a great love story if I could tell you which episode it was. Alas, I cannot. (Guess that makes it just an OK love story…)

Mike Rowe is the epitome of what I look for in my friends and those I would attempt to date. He is loyal, hard working, roots for the under-dog, humble, witty, smart, and ruggedly handsome. (That last one isn’t a requirement for anything; it is simply the icing on the cake.) If he were a girl, he’s the friend I would call when I needed an honest opinion on which dress to wear to the prom. If I were a man, we’d sit around with a beer or two and trade ridiculous witticisms.

Simply put, he is one helluva guy.

His witty, straight to the point, charming self disarmed me and if I could find a dirty enough job on this campground for him to do, I’d try to get him down here for a taping. Who cares if we’re 20 years apart? What’s a little bit of age??

I try to keep up on the happy-haps in his life, or at least what he puts out there for me to read. I’ve had this picture tucked away, waiting to use it. In honor of his birthday this week and an odd event from last week, I felt it was good timing.

When you go to his website, there are lots of (handsome) images to greet you, but this one caught my eye:

If there is one phrase to sum up my past 3 year life experience, this would be it.

I have long been called out for my perfectionist ways, and so many people will call me a perfectionist and then act like they know me. It’s not that hard to figure out: obsessive-compulsive, type A, anally organized. You’re not a mind reader. You don’t ‘know me’ simply by stating the obvious.

However. A failed marriage + divorce + never having the original, “normal” family unit ever again + having to start over from scratch at an age scarily close to 30 can stop a perfectionist dead in her tracks. (Or at least this one.)

In the beginning, it was hard to let the previous image of myself and my future go. The one that with the husband and the way we met and the fact that we looked cute together … plus my hopes and dreams for my (and our) future, all of which included and needed him … that was hard to grieve and bury. Mike’s caution tape, (if it really existed) is what I would’ve wrapped my life up in, in an effort to self protect.

But just the other week God signaled to me that that phase of my life is over, by way of another chance encounter much like the one with Mr. Rowe: I saw this epitaph on Ruth Graham’s grave and had another ‘stop me dead in my tracks and redirect’ moment, opposite from the one that happened 3 years ago.

The life-changing moment that happened previously made me feel a lot of negative emotions: failure, shame, regret, pain, hate, anger, disillusionment with church-family-life, distrust, despair, hopelessness… (for those of you who think I am dramatizing the emotion involved in divorce, let me simply say that until you have your heart removed, stomped on by the person you love the most and then left there to fend for itself, bite me – and don’t trivialize it because you have no idea.)

While I had let the idea of perfectionism go, reading her epitaph gave me that giant ‘thumbs up’ from God that it’s ok that I’m not perfect. I had originally let the idea of perfectionism go because my situation and circumstance was no longer perfect (even though in reality it had never been). Or I thought I had.

I have this insane drive to be healthy and to do everything right. But the problem is that so often what others tell you is right changes based on who is giving you the opinion. I have struggled in the past three years to be true to myself and at the same time meet the expectations of those around me. And daily I feel like I don’t measure up. I have fought this invisible battle to do what me and Jesus have worked out as being ‘ok’ for my life while listening to people who desired to tell me what is ok for their lives. When those two meshed and we were on the same page, everything was ok. But when I started to deviate from that, the message that got communicated to me was that I was wrong, that my thinking was flawed.

And in reading those few words, on an overcast day, on an outing that started from an inside and slightly irreverent joke, God gently put his arm around me and whispered ‘not only is your situation not perfect, you’re not…and we’re still good. In fact, I like you better that way.’

And just like that, I laid my desires to do it all right, to think all right, and to be all right down at the foot of Ruth Graham’s grave. And I left them there.

And Jesus, in his infinite amount of love for me knew I needed that moment to happen in my life, before I filed for divorce this week. I always thought the freedom I would feel after finally putting a stop to the divorce process would be because I was no longer tied to him. It wasn’t. It came in the form of a moment that had no intention of being spiritual, and it didn’t happen in regards to the marriage – it happened in regards to me.

So here I am, 3 years later. I have been through a helluva lot of emotion, pain, joy, regret, triumph, failure, and success. Thanks to two individuals who could not be any farther apart, Mike Rowe made me feel safe in my imperfection while working it out and Ruth Graham let me see that imperfection is the only attainable perfection in this life; and that both are OK. I feel like I have come full circle; I realized my imperfection was a stumbling block that I have tripped over every day of my life and then realized that my imperfection is what is loved most by those who love me the most.

Thanks Ruthie and Mike. You inadvertently played a part in a broken girl’s quest to be made whole.