Characterized By Light

Our local high school’s boys basketball team just played in the the state championship Saturday night.

It was the first time they had made it that far 

into tournament play since 1937.

Since McDaniel is a freshman at the school, it has been BIG FUN following this team.

As we walked into the game, I couldn’t help but feel like the movie “Hoosiers” was being played out all over again but without the small town farm community.

If that is possible.

Which it is.

Because it is March Madness, 

which makes anything possible.

Hello, Mercer beat Duke!

Unfortunately, our town is not nearly as fanatical about basketball as it is football. 

It is just shameful, how little the high school gymnasium seats.

Especially since I grew up in a very small town with a fabulous sunken gym that could seat more than the population of our town.

And it was packed every single game.

 Having said all that, our town came out in droves for the game Saturday night.

It certainly helped that the game was being played within a mile of our town.

Our community bought more tickets 

than any one high school ever had before.

Which is just so awesome.

Our seats were a bit high up for someone with a fear of heights

but we had a great view of the game.

All the starters on the team were seniors who have not only played together since the 3rd grade in various travel leagues,

but they grew up together playing pick-up games in each other’s driveways

because they are all friends.

Seriously, can you just hear that in a movie trailer?

When the starting line up was announced, the arena darkened and a spotlight highlighted each player as they ran across the floor to shake the officials hand.

I snapped a picture because it was such a powerful image

seeing these 18-year-old boys in the spotlight.

This was their moment.

I read in "Jesus Calling" this morning:

“Take time to bask in the Light of My Love.”

I immediately thought of the picture I took above.

What if we could see God’s love for us surrounding us like that spotlight surrounded each of the players?

What if we just took the time, 

a moment, 

to bask in it?

The game was a good match-up with few turnovers.

You could really tell that those seniors from our team had played together since they were little.

There was an intuitiveness in their play that only comes with time and experience.

A pass without looking.

But knowing someone was ready to receive it.

A shot-turned-assist.

Knowing someone was ready to receive it.

A crazy inbound play involving a half-court pass.

Knowing someone was ready to receive it.

You could tell they trusted each other.

Were secure in each other enough that no show boaters or hot dogs emerged.

And they held up their hands in acknowledgment of a foul.

That is all class.

We were up by 3 points with seconds to go at the end of the game.

I had just typed out the words,

“We won!”

in a text to my mom

when I looked up from my phone to see the opposing team sink a 3-pointer at the buzzer.

What?!

This is the part of the movie 

when the music gets intense.

I deleted the text to my mom and retyped that we were going into overtime.

We ended up losing the game.

But our guys never gave up.

They never seemed defeated in spirit.

They never got ugly.

I was a proud fan.

State runners up! 

Now 2014 goes down in the record books. 

McDaniel heard later that the team met their parents at a local restaurant after the game,

like they did after every in-season game,

for the last time.

The boys cried on their moms shoulders,

not because they lost the state title

but because it was all over.

They would never again play together as a team.

They would never again wear the same jerseys with their friends.

This is the part of the movie where you cry.

"You are all sons of the light and sons of the day. 

We do not belong to the night or to the darkness.”

--1 Thessalonians 5:5

My bible study note says that the term “sons of” actually means a quality meant to be characterized by the quality. 

Huh?

It goes on:

"Christians do not simply live in the light; 

they are characterized by light."

Great job, seniors!

Poetry Set to Music (?)

I like poetry.

I used to write a lot of it.

I was poetry editor of a publication in high school 

and helped edit in college too.

I don't write or read much poetry anymore.

Not even Dr. Seuss.

Which is a little sad.

Last night McDaniel had a choir concert.

The theme was Poetry Set to Music.

Yeah, that is McDaniel playing a turquoise ukulele.
More on that later.

Okaaaaay…

I can't say that we were excited.

The high school has a TON of talent, 

it really does. 

The fall concert was just amazing.

A jazz theme.

Jazz is intended for music.

It IS music.

We skipped the Christmas concert since it was one continuous song,

for 40 minutes straight,

done in Caribbean Mass style.

Did I mention it was also in Latin?

Yeah, we told McDaniel to call us when it was over so we could pick her up.

So we couldn't really skip this one.

I think parents only get one free pass a year
on these things, right?

Each poem was read first before they were sung.

I appreciated the readings--some were delivered very, very well.

But the singing of them?

It just didn't do them justice.

Some things were meant to just be spoken.

Like all the dialog in an opera.

And the French horn that was ill-played during the first song?

I had a very hard time controlling myself.

Because do you know what an ill-played French horn sounds like?

A goose who ate too many bean burritos at lunch, that's what.

And Monte told me a long time ago that farts
will always be funny to him.

Ellie was practically in a heap on the floor laughing.

So someone had to be the adult.

Thanks be to God and the program for keeping me from making a scene.

The program had pictures of each of the choral groups and ads from local vendors.

One ad was for a cupcake bakery with the tag line of:

Cakey. Cuppy. Yummy.

I was already suppressing a hearty guffaw when this struck my fancy.

I quickly turned the page to a fairly large ad for Port-a-Pots that boasted of a new cutting edge "super deep" bowl situation that sent. me. superclose. to. losing. it.

Really?  In the program for a high school choral performance?

I myself have always been happy with the

run-of-the-mill shallow bowl of a Port-a-Pot.

And by happy, I mean I will hold it until
I am blue in the face to avoid using one. 

Ever.

The concert included poetry about asking a cow, a goat and a hog their "take" on the meaning of life.

There was mooing, bleating and oinking.

That was fun set to music. 

But at least everyone else laughed too.

Dr. Seuss could've easily worked into the program.

I’m just saying.

When McDaniel's glee group started singing in German, 

I may have started to look at what Monte was looking at on his phone.

German isn't a flowy romantic language that lends itself to a snappy melody.

Side note:  McDaniel's choir director asked her last night if she was feeling okay.

She was.

This morning, during class, he said he was surprised to see her there
since she looked about ready to vomit last night, she was so pale.

Nope.

McDaniel is just that pale.

Hurry up, Spring Break!

Back to poetry.

Last week Ellie told me she was going to ask me some questions for something for school.

Whatever. Fine.

I was busy unloading and loading the dishwasher.

I answered a series of questions fairly absentmindedly.

Finally, I asked what it was going to be used for.

"I am going to write a poem about you."

I told her to read back my answers.

I begged her to change some of them.

She didn’t and assured me it was going to "work out great".

She handed me a rough draft last night.

If I may summarize,

for the sake of this being set to music one day and sung by a high school choir:

I am a small town lover of parties, cheesecake and Jesus.

I hate recumbent bikes, most movement and being upside down because it makes me queasy.

Big noises worry me.

(So that rules out ill-played French horns for accompaniment.)

I am superstitious of wearing white before Easter and after Labor Day.

(If you can call that a superstition).

I know my dinosaurs.

And the humiliation of wetting my pants.

If that doesn't one day force the parents in the audience,

the ones that already used their free pass for the year, 

to pray and look through the program 

to help suppress a hearty guffaw then,

I don't know poetry set to music.

Purse Reveal

Chris over at The Mom Cafe did this funny Vlog revealing what was in her purse.

Check it out!

It was hilarious to see just how many pens from the bank she had taken, how many Carmex lip balms she had accumulated and how many tooth brushes she felt necessary to carry around.

She had not cleaned out her purse since the fall.

Since I can't remember the last time I cleaned out my purse, I thought I would document that for you all.

Aren't you lucky!

 Here is my consignment shop Liz Claiborne purse that I got for $13.

I love this purse!

It's big enough for everything like books and even my laptop--like my very own Mary Poppins bag.

Even the guy working at Delia's at the mall complimented it. 

Which FREAKED OUT the girls.

Bad.

It looks a little stuffed, doesn't it?

Here we go…

Holy cow.

Yikes.

**Of course there is a "special zipper pocket" that I did not empty 

because Monte reads my blog and gets the hives easily 

when topics become "too feminine". 

If you know what I mean.**

Let's break this down:

•Of course there is my wallet and checkbook inside. 

No surprise there.

Wait. I found a second checkbook. 

That probably has been a bit confusing for our bank.

 Oops.

•Lipsticks and lip balm.

Which is funny since I RARELY wear lipstick.

(my grandmother would be so appalled)

But the lip balm?

Constantly.

Check this out:

Both lip balms are empty.

•Pens! 

Good to know! 

I have 4 and somehow can never seem to find any of them when I need them.

•Sudafed (one loose) and 3 packs of tissues.

It's been a l-o-n-g winter.

•2 hand lotions.

And I just threw one away earlier in the week.

•2 pony tail holders.

Huh. Interesting.

I just told McDaniel Monday night at Ellie's basketball game that I didn't have one. 

Granted I didn't even look 

because I subconsciously must've known 

the HOT MESS my purse was in.

McDaniel somehow "lost" the pony tail holder that was on her braid when we walked into the gym. She had braided her hair wet and once the pony tail holder disappeared her hair kept getting bigger and bigger by the second. 

Good thing we were in the top row of the bleachers. 

We eventually found the pony tail holder on the ground across the aisle. 

It had "shot off" her hair somehow without any one of us noticing.

She was too embarrassed to pick it up since it was right underneath a women's foot.

So we made Monte do it at half time.

That man.

He deserves a medal.

These could've saved the day Monday
night. If I had just bothered to look.

•Mints.

Ever since I jacked up my jaw this summer, I have stopped chewing gum. 

It used to hurt my stomach anyway--

all the fake sugar in the gum.

I love these Pep 'O Mints by Lifesavers because there are no fake sweeteners in them.

•The downside of these mints? The wrappers!

Why is my purse a trash can?

•Business cards for our party planning business.

In a plastic ziploc bag.

Crazy classy and professional.

•Receipts. Receipts. Receipts.

And there are more stuffed into my wallet that I didn't even touch.

•Paper!

There is a birthday card for Monte, 

a note from McDaniel to get her the Insurgent book, 

a catalog of the services at the Aveda salon, 

an invitation to a fundraising event, 

a One Direction Valentine card to Ellie, 

a project idea from Joan Fabrics 

and a monthly budget that Monte hand wrote out on the back of an 

expired coupon while we were eating lunch after church.

•More paper!

There are coupons,

2 programs from the high school girls basketball banquet we went to Sunday night,

2 basketball rosters from the season 

(which has been over since February),

a ticket to the middle school production of Annie 

(which was in October),

a thank you card

and the envelopes from Monte that once held cash for my birthday shoe challenge 

(which was in November).

•Scissors.

?!

•One dime.

Here is the bag of trash I threw away from my purse:

It was heavy!

My take away from cleaning out my purse:

•I need more lip balm.

•I definitely need more mints.

(But wrappers go into the trash, not my purse!)

•I found a receipt I needed to submit for an event we just planned.

(Crazy classy and professional strikes again.)

•My purse is not a scrapbook.

•I may not be "plane travel ready" with those scissors in my bag.

•I don't even have 2 dimes to rub together.

Ok--your turn! 

Clean out your purses and tell me what you find!

*B.Y.O.B. Birthday

We like celebrating birthdays around here.

I am,

 to my core,

a party planner.

But I have learned that birthdays don’t always have to mean a party.

I like the “just us” ways we celebrate each other too.

Monte’s birthday was in February and he didn’t want to do anything.

Not. A. Thing.

And it snowed on his actual birthday making it too difficult 

to take him to his restaurant of choice.

So the girls threw together a homemade “Pin the Raybans on Dad” game.

McDaniel won. The Raybans waaaaay over to the left
not even on the playing sheet?
Monte’s. 

It was a blast.

McDaniel turned 15 the beginning of March.

A few weeks before, she asked what we were going to do for her Quinceanera.

Since we are not Latino,

I said nothing.

Wait. I did say something. 

“Nothing.”

End quote.

McDaniel has been having actual birthday parties with themes and favors and such for 14 years.

I didn’t have it in me 

(maybe it was the very beginnings of that Pioneer Flu 

snuffing out my creativity and enthusiasm 

and later my will to live)

to do a party to entertain 15-year-olds.

McDaniel wasn’t terribly upset by that but wasn’t ready to let the birthday party thing go yet either.

One evening as I was checking email, I mentioned that I had gotten a Build-A-Bear coupon for McDaniel’s birthday.

They seriously must not keep an updated database because we have not been to a Build-A-Bear in probably 8 years.

McDaniel instantly lit up with excitement.

Monte informed her that if she wanted to go to Build-A-Bear with her friends,

they were on their own for buying a bear.

He could still get mad about the financial black hole 

that was the bear that McDaniel made 10 YEARS AGO 

that had to have the purple satin dress AND matching underwear 

and sequined bows that never seemed to stay on the bear’s ears.

McDaniel texted her friends and they all shared her excitement for the birthday outing AND agreed to Monte’s financial *B.Y.O.B. terms.

*Buy. Your. Own. Bear.

Sumita insisted that I take the tiara and sash she wore
on her birthday for McDaniel to wear on hers.

McDaniel had no problem wearing the tiara and sash to the mall.

It was quite a popular day to build a bear. The girls towered over the 6 and 7-year-olds in line.

When it was finally our group’s time to stuff bears, 

this cute lady stood on a chair 

(she had to, poor thing, most of the freshman basketball team was standing before her)

and announced to everyone in the store 

that it was McDaniel’s 15th birthday.

I heard a couple of parents pushing strollers mumble to themselves behind us.

One older guy, came up to me and told me it was his grandson’s 7th birthday and that he loved seeing the enthusiasm of McDaniel’s group because,

“15-year-olds could be doing a lot worse 

than hanging out at Build-A-Bear.”

I tried to verbally affirm him but my voice was spontaneously shifting from Barry White to Dog Whistle with every word.

Grandpa listened to me patiently until I could see his eyes water 

and he walked away.

The cute worker lady led McDaniel’s group in preparing hearts to put into their animals.

But she had them take 2 hearts so one could be put into McDaniel’s monkey from each one of them.

It was enough to make me tear up.

Monte insisted that each girl take the time to make
a birth certificate for their animals. And he loved
hearing what names they chose.

So cute. And Monte only had to pay for two of them.

Ellie’s Ruby bear. Guess what?
The bows STILL don’t stay on the ears.

McDaniel made a topless Sasserella
tutu and cowboy boot wearing monkey.

Then we took the girls to Carisa’s restaurant, Cuco’s, and Monte said the bill worked out to be about the same. 

Dinner for 11 and the two outfitted animals from Build-A-Bear that are pictured above.

But we aren’t letting him get mad about it this time.

Fascinating Grace

Even as I am slowly coming out of what could only be called

the Pioneer Flu

because it felt so “Little House on the Prairie” 

and left me with nothing but fuzzy time on the couch 

to let it “run its course”,

I can look back and see all the neat times I had in spite of this primitive-era illness.

God’s fascinating grace.

The luxury of finding delight in what is around me.

That’s God’s grace for me.

Because I certainly don’t deserve to even notice it.

Or delight in it.

But God sees fit to point them out to me

again and again.

Just because I ask.

And that will always be fascinating to me.

I wasn’t the only one affected. 

In fact, a good handful of the women that gathered that first “fuzzy Friday” for me 

for Sumita’s birthday luncheon,

ended up with the similar Pioneer Flu.

I may or may not be to blame.

Oops!

It was a lovely time in Carisa’s brand spanking new house.

(I will have to do a full photo tour post about it soon.)

We did a relaxation theme for Sumita because she has had quite a stressful last three months.

(That’s another whole post too.)

I did not take many pictures because, FUZZY.

Sumita.
Everyone deserves to wear a tiara and sash
on their birthday.

Carisa had the good idea of making fruit and yogurt
parfaits for everyone as part of the luncheon. 

My friend Julie thought it a good idea to buy
underwear for Sumita for her birthday.
I told her not to do that to for me for my birthday.

Carisa also had the brilliant idea of making homemade
foot scrubs for everyone to take home. I made 3 different
kinds:  Peppermint Sugar Salt, Lavender Salt and
Lemon Honey Sugar.
They were super easy and cheap to make.

I put the scrubs in these cute little containers
I found at Kroger. Didn’t realize until I got
home that they were intended for gelatin shots.
For the love of Pete.

To go along with the relaxation theme, we had everyone bring a calming/peaceful scripture or lyric to a song on an index card that we slid into little travel-sized photo books for her to have on hand. 

I wish we had gone around the room and each read those cards to Sumita.

Instead, we told funny stories and laughed until we cried.

God’s fascinating grace gave us just what we needed and not what I had planned.

Because it was a BLAST!

My voice was shot by the end. I could’ve sang a Barry White song without changing the key.

The day before the birthday luncheon, Sumita and I went to get facials. 

As I was driving to her house, I noticed a car in front of me with a vanity plate that read SCIWLKR.

I pondered all the things that could represent:

•Maybe he was a scientist and his last name was Walker so therefore he goes by Science Walker. 

•Maybe the SCI was more of a sky sound and he was one of those thrill seekers that like to illegally scale skyscrapers for fun.

Finally I noticed below the license plate that there was a bumper sticker that read TOYODA with a picture of Star Wars’ Yoda at the end.

Ohhhh!

So SCIWLKR was as in Luke Skywalker.

Then I noticed the guy was driving a Scion not a Toyota.

And he was bald and had ear lobes 

that hung almost to his shoulders 

because of those big spacer things 

that are in the holes that stretch them 

out beyond recognition.

Fascinating.

It was snowing these big huge flakes as Sumita and I pulled into the spa parking lot.

We saw a construction truck and a couple of guys in hard hats. One had his phone pointed straight up into the sky, taking a picture.

My instant thought?

He wanted to capture the beauty of those huge snow flakes 

and post it to Facebook or Instagram.

Sumita thought maybe it had more to do with the construction job at hand.

Still, I felt like I wanted to Facebook friend the hard hat.

 To follow his photographic view of the world that he no doubt chronicled.

Fascinating eye for beauty.

Fascinating.

It had been a l-o-n-g time since I had gotten a facial. 

I did not realize that I would be asked to strip down for a facial and told to put on a strapless terry cloth frock.

If you know me at all,

you know this made me terribly uncomfortable.

So I left my pants and tall boots on.

And took this selfie to send to Sumita who was in the next room 

having NO TROUBLE taking off her clothes, mind you, 

pants included.

(I asked later. 

You know I did.)

See my expression? That is my
“What is happening right now?” look.

My facial lady came in a half second after I snapped this picture and asked me why I still had my boots on.

I mumbled something about being cold as I unzipped my boots and she put this warm towel on my feet and I was almost sure I had found my perfect new thing.

Warm towels.

Wrapped around my feet.

In bed.

Every. Night.

Of course, I forgot all about my perfect new thing 

until just now as I typed this out.

But I am glad I didn’t 

in all my Pioneer Flu fuzziness,

forget all the fascinating grace of the past two weeks.

Oh, but there is more…

stay tuned.

Just Like Jonah…Except Not

If I didn’t mention it before,

I’ve been sick.

It started a week ago Friday morning when I felt a little fuzzy in the head.

Like I made a whole pot of hot water instead of coffee, fuzzy.

Like I dipped the bottom 5 inches of my hair in my yogurt 

AND DIDN’T EVEN KNOW IT, fuzzy.

There was even a chunk of strawberry in my hair. 

No. Idea.

That fuzziness settled in and remained throughout my flu.

My voice went from Ursala from The Little Mermaid, to Daryl Hannah speaking her native "mermaid" from Splash (remember when she shattered all those TVs?) to Lucille Ball, the LATER years.

That fuzziness was never more apparent than a few days ago when,

quite suddenly, 

and completely accidentally,

 I flushed an entire deodorant down the toilet.

The last tube of deodorant in the house, as it turns out.

Very upsetting.

It fell off the shelf above the toilet, just as I was…

well, you get the picture.

I stood there stunned. I tried to scream but, Ursala's voice was back and she is really only good for singing, “Poor unfortunate souls…!” which does not keep the toilet from swallowing your deodorant.

I was left standing there wondering what effects a tube of deodorant could have on plumbing pipes. But also, I couldn't help thinking of Jonah. You know, biblical Jonah and the big fish (or whale).

I did a Priscilla Shirer study on Jonah several years ago and what I remember best about it is when Priscilla asked where we were in our lives.

Were we running away from God trying to hide like Jonah avoiding going to Nineveh? 

Were we in the belly of the whale seeking God's mercy?

Or were we being obedient and teaching in Nineveh?

At any given time, I have been all of them.

We all have.

Staring at the toilet, 

I went right into the belly of the whale.

Did I mention Monte was out of town?

And I was still very much sick?

I envisioned the toilet belching up the deodorant in the middle of the night along with all the contents that had ever been done inside of it. EVER.

I texted Monte.

He told me to do some pre-disaster plunging for safety’s sake.

The toilet on a different floor decided to act sluggish. I felt like we might be in for a long night.

But it wasn’t.

It was fine.

The next morning I noticed the toilet acting a little lazy so I plunged it within an inch of my life and

TA-DA

out came the deodorant tube.

What?!

You know, it was the very whale who swallowed Jonah whole, who spit him right back up.

It's okay if you aren't following me--I'm still a little fuzzy.

And that sounded more brilliant in my head.

I felt the need to announce my toilet discovery to McDaniel who was downstairs eating breakfast.

I victoriously held up the wet, dripping deodorant.

She was all Ew. Gross. Do you expect me to use that?

But I was just so pleased the rest of the day.

And I didn't have to deal with a flood.

Then I would've had to bring Noah into this.

I texted my mom the whole story and she wanted to know if it was all just a feverish dream.

I don't know…maybe it was.

But there is a waterlogged tube of deodorant in the trash can 

that tells a very different story.

Ever Have One of Those Days?

Yes, McDaniel took a selfie of herself with her own
arm stuck in her own hair.
We are so proud.

Yeah, I am having one of those weeks.

Except I didn’t get my own arm stuck in my own hair.

But I did get the flu.

As in going on 6 days and still trying to take a shower and not have to nap right after.


I will be back in full blogging post power as soon as I can.