Seems like March was the hot-spot for having awesome kids in 1988. Props to Cary, Suzanne, Billy, and Terr1For. Don’t know what it was about this month that deserved to birth such epic greatness, but ALAS, it did! Please pause from your busy schedules with me to take some time and recognize my beloved March heroes.
Hero #1: Cara Marie Rochelle: (AKA) Cacka / Momma Care
March 25, 1988On the 25th of this month, history was altered by the birth of CaraRO. How do I even begin to describe my longest friend I’ve ever had? I could start with her hair. She showers and it’s done. Fixed. Perfectly locked in tight brown beautiful curls. Or I could start with the fact that she is the most loyal friend of all. Loving me through all of the things that she probably (READ: absolutely) thinks I am ridiculous for. Or I could start with the fact that she says the funniest things….ever.
AND CUE NOSTALGIA.
Nostalgia: A wistful desire to return in thought or in fact to a former time in one's life, to one's home or homeland, or to one's family and friends; a sentimental yearning for the happiness of a former place or time.
Cara, I would give anything to wear Doc Martins and play wall ball on the playground today. Or attend PG Hawk Sports Camp together in Adidas slide on shoes and umbros. Or dress up for Halloween and go on a haybell ride behind the church. Or eat lunch at McAlister’s. Or go swimming at Northridge, while I beg you to play games even though you’d rather lay out. Or sit in your neon-colortastic room and talk about the things of life, love and cheerleading. Who knew life was so easy back then?! When your best friend was a bike ride away, or in my case…a trip in the back of Betsy’s firetruck red van.
Happy (late) birthday to one of my dearest friends (not to mention the friend I receive the best text message pictures from). I am perfectly wild about you, Cacka, and I think you are the greatest!! Would give anything to go rafting with you in the glacier runoff water in the Colorado June. (HINT: Plan a trip). And, of course: CONGRATS on making it to 24, you old maid! (Really loving being the youngest one for the first time since ever).
Hero #2: Britt(any) Forrester Earnest : (AKA) “Beef”
March 28, 1988There are a few definitive moments in my life that I remember very distinctly. One of which was St. Michaels Health and Fitness Camp in the 3rd grade. It was a day that we could never turn back from. It was a day that changed our lives for the better. And our names. It was the day that “BEEFO LATEX” originated. Eventually Beefo changed to Beef, and 15 years later…the name remains.
The name “Beef” fits my beloved “home best friend (HBF)” for so many reasons which include, but are not limited to, the following:
1. Beef is the tiniest, most absolutely stunning girl in America…and she owns that name like a boss.
2. “Beef” makes the best slogans at the Miss Teen Texas Pageant.
And most importantly:
3. Beef is directly synonymous with steak. Steak represents Beef. Beef represents steak. Why? Who the hell knows, or cares?! But the similarities are endless…(bear with me here).
Here are four similarities to consider*:
1. All good steak is from TEXAS. As is Beef…Texas born and bred.
2. Steak is juicy. Beef occasionally wears juicy couture velour sweat suits (with rhinestones).
3. Beef is a Longhorn, steak USED to be a Longhorn.
4. Steak is not for hippies or granolas. Beef is likewise not for hippies or granolas. (She puts up with me because she has to.)
Do you see what I mean? ENDLESS SYNONYMITY!!!
I digress.
Today marks the anniversary of another one of the definitive moments of my life that I do not remember distinctly, partly because I wasn’t alive. (INSERT: “I am younger than you” joke. Those start this year, and don’t end until we die. Just a heads up.) Today, YES TODAY, marks the birth of BEEF herself! The newly married and always beautiful “Britt” Forrester Earnest. She is 21 (+3) years old today!!! Clap, Shout, Sing!! Jump, Jump around! That’s 24 years of outshining the sun, people!
Beef has walked faithfully alongside me for 16 of those glorious years and I love her more today than I did when she showed up to Follies practice in the driveway with her newly acquired Haley Fomby haircut (a shoulder length bob curled under, with bangs.) I love her now even more than when we collected all of the things that were significant to our year-long new friendship, and floated them down the river (READ: sewage pipe) “message in a bottle” style. NOTE: We have still yet to recover the purple folder in the ziplock bag. I love her more than when we held fake pageants at her house, where everyone’s philanthropy was “picking up trash.” (Why?) And in a miracle of all miracles: she loves me despite the fact that I made her turn off all of the lights and stop the fan before waking up around noon after a sleepover, and despite the fact that I moved so very far away to Colorado.
AND because I am selfish as humanly possible, I will make a wish (on her birthday.) My wish is that I could be back in the Lone Star State, hugging her neck, bitching about getting old / having to function as adults in the real world (THE HORROR), and having a fruity drink and/or cupcake while laying around in our pajamas. I am crossing my fingers and clicking my heels that I somehow end up at her doorstep on my way home today.
So today, we celebrate the beginning of Beef’s 24th year of life. I cannot be more grateful to have another year to love my lifelong friend. Seriously, though, Beef - I think you get better every year. You are funnier and prettier and overall more awesome than the year before. I think you are the greatest and I am completely blessed by your life, your words, your fashion tips, your airport meltdowns, your telephone communication skills, and your friendship in general. God was really being a show-off with you. I hope your birthday is full of fun and absent of blind peds. Here’s to never EVER (really) growing up! I am absolutely mad about you.
You know, come to think...there is really just something about having friends who have seen you pre-Chi hair straightener. Pre-makeup (which still exists in my world). The friends who watched you cry over your boyfriend, who sat next to you at the lunch table, the friends who taught you what it means to be a friend in the first place.
I don’t know, maybe I feel this sentiment because both Cara and Beef have millions of pictures that they could blackmail me with. Or maybe it’s because they still know my home phone number by memory, or that I feel more like we are family than friends. Or maybe it’s just because I love them more than I know how to put into words. Whatever the case, I am thankful that these two were born. Its reason enough to celebrate.
Happiest Birthday, one more time, to my lifelong friends - Beefo Latex and Cacka Marie!!!! My partners in crime, my sisters. You guys are the BEST and I love you both like WOAH.
*All credit to Megan Templin for the Beef and Steak similarities.
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
The Weight of Glory
Lately, I find myself itching for something. Rather, aching for something. Something beyond me and something that is more than just flesh and bones. Some kind of unquenchable thirst for something that satisfies everything I want and need. The fact that I long for it led C.S. Lewis to believe that it exists. He says that the longings for satisfaction and contentment and eternity come because such a thing exists that will fully meet all those longings.
I long for a place, or maybe a person who is utterly and wholly ‘other.’ I am unable to put my finger on exactly what I am looking for, but I know I need it.
Colorado was a glimpse of this. I remember wanting BEAUTY, a place where I could get lost in creation, where I could breathe fresh air and completely slip away from the hustle and bustle of life; in a word, a place of peace. The Rocky Mountains gave me the sense of that for a fleeting instant, and yet even in the middle of the great outdoors…something is still missing. I am unable to fully articulate it, and my listeners are much less able to understand and feel it with me fully. The gap. The ever expanding gap in the space between. My heart seems to know exactly what I am looking for, but is keeping it a secret from my head. I long for something that is just outside of my experience, but it seems that my soul knows it’s there. Just beyond my grasp. My longing propels me to search, with the hope that when I arrive at the destination, my heart will exclaim “Yes! This is exactly what I was looking for.”
Today I am forever tied with C.S. Lewis, to heaven. The idea of being fully content and fully satisfied and wholly rid of this skin that makes me unable to experience any of it. Today I feel the eternity that was set in my heart by my beloved Jesus.
“If a transtemporal, transfinite good is our real destiny, then any other good on which our desire fixes must be in some degree fallacious, must bear at best only a symbolical relation to what will truly satisfy. …The secret we cannot hide and cannot tell, though we desire to do both. We cannot tell it because it is a desire for something that has never actually appeared in our experience. We cannot hide it because our experience is constantly suggesting it, and we betray ourselves like lovers at the mention of a name.
These things – the beauty, the memory of our own past – are good images of what we really desire; but if they are mistaken for the thing itself, they turn into dumb idols, breaking the hearts of their worshippers. For they are not the thing itself; they are only the scent of a flower we have not found, the echo of a tune we have not heard, news from a country we have never yet visited.
We remain conscious of a desire which no natural happiness will satisfy.…For a few minutes we have had the illusion of belonging to that world. Now we wake to find that it is no such thing. We have been mere spectators. Beauty has smiled, but not to welcome us; her face was turned in our direction, but not to see us. We have not been accepted, welcomed, or taken into the dance.
The sense that in this universe we are treated as strangers, the longing to be acknowledged, to meet with some response, to bridge some chasm that yawns between us and reality, is part of our inconsolable secret. And surely, from this point of view, the promise of glory, in the sense described, becomes highly relevant to our deep desire. For glory meant good report with God, acceptance by God, response, acknowledgment, and welcome into the heart of things. The door on which we have been knocking all our lives will open at last. Perhaps it seems rather crude to describe glory as the fact of being “noticed” by God.”
-C.S. Lewis
I long for a place, or maybe a person who is utterly and wholly ‘other.’ I am unable to put my finger on exactly what I am looking for, but I know I need it.
Colorado was a glimpse of this. I remember wanting BEAUTY, a place where I could get lost in creation, where I could breathe fresh air and completely slip away from the hustle and bustle of life; in a word, a place of peace. The Rocky Mountains gave me the sense of that for a fleeting instant, and yet even in the middle of the great outdoors…something is still missing. I am unable to fully articulate it, and my listeners are much less able to understand and feel it with me fully. The gap. The ever expanding gap in the space between. My heart seems to know exactly what I am looking for, but is keeping it a secret from my head. I long for something that is just outside of my experience, but it seems that my soul knows it’s there. Just beyond my grasp. My longing propels me to search, with the hope that when I arrive at the destination, my heart will exclaim “Yes! This is exactly what I was looking for.”
Today I am forever tied with C.S. Lewis, to heaven. The idea of being fully content and fully satisfied and wholly rid of this skin that makes me unable to experience any of it. Today I feel the eternity that was set in my heart by my beloved Jesus.
“If a transtemporal, transfinite good is our real destiny, then any other good on which our desire fixes must be in some degree fallacious, must bear at best only a symbolical relation to what will truly satisfy. …The secret we cannot hide and cannot tell, though we desire to do both. We cannot tell it because it is a desire for something that has never actually appeared in our experience. We cannot hide it because our experience is constantly suggesting it, and we betray ourselves like lovers at the mention of a name.
These things – the beauty, the memory of our own past – are good images of what we really desire; but if they are mistaken for the thing itself, they turn into dumb idols, breaking the hearts of their worshippers. For they are not the thing itself; they are only the scent of a flower we have not found, the echo of a tune we have not heard, news from a country we have never yet visited.
We remain conscious of a desire which no natural happiness will satisfy.…For a few minutes we have had the illusion of belonging to that world. Now we wake to find that it is no such thing. We have been mere spectators. Beauty has smiled, but not to welcome us; her face was turned in our direction, but not to see us. We have not been accepted, welcomed, or taken into the dance.
The sense that in this universe we are treated as strangers, the longing to be acknowledged, to meet with some response, to bridge some chasm that yawns between us and reality, is part of our inconsolable secret. And surely, from this point of view, the promise of glory, in the sense described, becomes highly relevant to our deep desire. For glory meant good report with God, acceptance by God, response, acknowledgment, and welcome into the heart of things. The door on which we have been knocking all our lives will open at last. Perhaps it seems rather crude to describe glory as the fact of being “noticed” by God.”
-C.S. Lewis
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
An Open Letter to the Birthday Girl
Dear Brittney Lynnikins/Britter-boo/my littlest SEESTER:
Congratulations!! You made it. You are 21 years old!! I am so proud of you for making it to this day, for the most part un-scathed. Also…today marks one year further away from the possibility of Grandmommy buying you acne cream on any given Saturday. (You can never grow out of needing weight loss books, so consider yourself lucky – you got the better end of this deal.)
I hope you are celebrating the right way! Outside. In the park. Doing things. Laughing. Living it up. Chillin. Relaxin’ all cool. Party Rockin’. Daydreaming. Being an all around baller, shot caller. I trust that you are.
I want you to know a few things on this blessed day. As you know, I have lots of strong feelings about your general existence and the anniversary of it today.
However (in honor of the black vs. white differences between us), because I am overly emotional about you and your life here on earth, and because you respond much better to my humor than my sappy and affirmative reasons that I love you -- I have assembled this group of (12) ecards to really get my point across for how happy I hope your birthday really is.
And with that, as your older sister, I would like to give you some advice that I wish someone would have given me on my 21st birthday (aside from the weary attempt Ali Burrow made…still haven’t found the definition for that gem) . Things I have learned in my 2.85 years ahead of you, things you should know are as follows:
1. Keep taking naps for as long as you possibly can. Live it up before the real world tries to steal your soul.
2. As unfortunate as it is, you actually do have to shower more than once a week. Our culture practically demands it. Its either shower, or pack your crap and move overseas.
3. Abbreviate everything. Don’t ever give up on your inner sorostitute. If it’s wrong, then you shouldn’t want to be right.
4. Do not, and I repeat, DO NOT ever like/own/touch/adopt a cat. Cats are practically the worst thing ever.
5. Keep on rockin’ the sweatpants. Ya’ look good, ya’ look real good B.
6. Contrary to popular belief, you actually cannot consume an entire yellow cake via the raw batter. This is extremely disheartening, I know, but also true. Being fat is a harsh reality that you really don’t want to experience. You have to lock that up. TRUST ME ON THIS ONE.
7. Appreciate being a Texan. Say “LIIIIKE, I KNOW” a lot. Accentuate your accent. Remember your Texan pride. It’s a gift, a lifestyle, an identity that you won’t and can’t fully appreciate until you leave Texas for an extended period of time.
8. Don’t actually ever grow up. Adults are idiots.
9. Surround yourself with funny people. I cannot stress this point enough. Your quality of life is directionally proportionate to how often you laugh. Laugh at everything. Jokes, people, anything.
10. Remember that I love you. And I want you to live life to the full and to be 'happy as a hippo'. And know fully that you are my favorite sister in the whole world and I adore you all the way down to your toes. Wish you were here to "koala me and just hang there for a bit". (Had to get at least one sap-happy piece in there). Love Jesus and live fully.
PS. Not to be the ultimate buzz-kill, but please be aware that this is the last birthday of your life that anyone cares about. They all start getting depressing from here. CHEERS, and again, HAPPY 21st BIRTHDAY!!! I love the snot out of you.
Congratulations!! You made it. You are 21 years old!! I am so proud of you for making it to this day, for the most part un-scathed. Also…today marks one year further away from the possibility of Grandmommy buying you acne cream on any given Saturday. (You can never grow out of needing weight loss books, so consider yourself lucky – you got the better end of this deal.)
I hope you are celebrating the right way! Outside. In the park. Doing things. Laughing. Living it up. Chillin. Relaxin’ all cool. Party Rockin’. Daydreaming. Being an all around baller, shot caller. I trust that you are.
I want you to know a few things on this blessed day. As you know, I have lots of strong feelings about your general existence and the anniversary of it today.
However (in honor of the black vs. white differences between us), because I am overly emotional about you and your life here on earth, and because you respond much better to my humor than my sappy and affirmative reasons that I love you -- I have assembled this group of (12) ecards to really get my point across for how happy I hope your birthday really is.
And with that, as your older sister, I would like to give you some advice that I wish someone would have given me on my 21st birthday (aside from the weary attempt Ali Burrow made…still haven’t found the definition for that gem) . Things I have learned in my 2.85 years ahead of you, things you should know are as follows:
1. Keep taking naps for as long as you possibly can. Live it up before the real world tries to steal your soul.
2. As unfortunate as it is, you actually do have to shower more than once a week. Our culture practically demands it. Its either shower, or pack your crap and move overseas.
3. Abbreviate everything. Don’t ever give up on your inner sorostitute. If it’s wrong, then you shouldn’t want to be right.
4. Do not, and I repeat, DO NOT ever like/own/touch/adopt a cat. Cats are practically the worst thing ever.
5. Keep on rockin’ the sweatpants. Ya’ look good, ya’ look real good B.
6. Contrary to popular belief, you actually cannot consume an entire yellow cake via the raw batter. This is extremely disheartening, I know, but also true. Being fat is a harsh reality that you really don’t want to experience. You have to lock that up. TRUST ME ON THIS ONE.
7. Appreciate being a Texan. Say “LIIIIKE, I KNOW” a lot. Accentuate your accent. Remember your Texan pride. It’s a gift, a lifestyle, an identity that you won’t and can’t fully appreciate until you leave Texas for an extended period of time.
8. Don’t actually ever grow up. Adults are idiots.
9. Surround yourself with funny people. I cannot stress this point enough. Your quality of life is directionally proportionate to how often you laugh. Laugh at everything. Jokes, people, anything.
10. Remember that I love you. And I want you to live life to the full and to be 'happy as a hippo'. And know fully that you are my favorite sister in the whole world and I adore you all the way down to your toes. Wish you were here to "koala me and just hang there for a bit". (Had to get at least one sap-happy piece in there). Love Jesus and live fully.
PS. Not to be the ultimate buzz-kill, but please be aware that this is the last birthday of your life that anyone cares about. They all start getting depressing from here. CHEERS, and again, HAPPY 21st BIRTHDAY!!! I love the snot out of you.
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Psalm 91
Some days, and I take great lengths to remember these and drink deeply of them, I feel like dancing and singing and shouting. I twirl and laugh for no reason. I drive with the windows down. I feel joy to an infinite degree and everything is beautiful and magnificent and life seems breezy. Days when the sun is out, it's warm and I am eating fresh pineapple. Days when things seem right and good in the world. Like a sunset at the park. Or a night with old friends playing games around a fire.
And then, gravity sometimes sets in and some days feel more like life has woken you up abruptly and you are frazzled and your hair looks a hot mess. And you're always late. Days when you are sick and tired and outside in the cold. Times when nothing seems worth it and everyone is against you. When you feel attacked or threatened or like you are being pulled in a million directions for a million reasons when all you want is solitude and to be in your bed. And yet we drink deeply of these too. The fight. The dark night of the soul.
One minute it’s sunny, and the next minute it’s hailing.
I want to confess that I have been wrestling. I have been blatantly disobedient to the call and stirrings of Christ and I have felt guilt and shame over it, and even still a resistance remains in my heart towards the things of God. Why? I know truth after truth about the goodness and mercy of God. And yet my fleshly heart is against Him. There is a resounding terror in the idea of my surrender to Christ, of being out of control. Of being led to a place of discomfort by a God who (in my head) is ready to crush me.
I have seen my struggle and these lies I believe accidently spill into other relationships and rear their heads as anything from insecurity to jealousy. Amidst my wrestle with and against God, I have let myself be covered in lies. And worse, I believe them. Isn’t that how it goes? We get away from our life source in Christ, and we just start making our messes messier. Lately, I have been all kinds of crazy and two shades of irritable. I think the key to my distress is my lack of intimacy with Christ. My very skewed version of who God really is, and what he thinks of me. And so, with eyes to the ground, tear stained cheeks, and feeble/wobbly knees I am taking steps back towards what is true.
And true is this:
"He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will find rest in the shadow of the Almighty...He will cover you with His feathers, and under His wings you will find refuge, His faithfulness will be your shield and rampart...a thousand may fall at your side, and ten thousand at your right hand, but it shall not come near you. If you make the Most High your dwelling--even the LORD, who is my refuge then no harm will befall you, no disaster will come near your tent. For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways; they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone." -Psalm 91
"The LORD your God is with you, the Mighty Warrior who saves. He will take great delight in you; in his love he will no longer rebuke you, but will rejoice over you with singing.” -Zephaniah 3:17
There are a lot of things that I want to be. That I think I am. Things that define me and things that are true of me. I could make a long list of words that I think define me or at least that I want to define me. And my motivation behind having this definition, this persona that is all that I am and all that I want to be, is at some deep level I need to feel wanted. Against all my rational and known truths, I believe that I must perform a certain way in order that God will actually want me.
Despite my best attempts at fierce independence and nonchalance, I honestly want approval. I want to know that I am doing okay, that I am on track, that I am going in the right direction. I want justification and affirmation and acceptance. I think it’s the result of my human nature, a fallen world and the burden that all of us (at some level) bear. And so at the depths of my very fragile heart, my life is constantly being set beside a measuring stick. Am I funny? Am I pretty? Am I good? Am I right? Am I okay? Am I wanted?
In this single moment, though, I am met with the challenge to stop trying so hard to be the girl I think I am supposed to be. To instead, “dwell in the shelter of the Most High, and find rest in the shadow of the Almighty.” To yield to the God unseen, and to just be. To just exist in the sweet surrender of breathing in the breath that He has given me for this one hour. It’s a bitter pill for my pride to swallow to give up any and all expectations that I have set for myself.
Still, I feel begged, right now, to just be Ally. Nothing more, nothing less. Defined by nothing other than Christ’s love for me. Maybe today I could just sit in the magnitude of His adoration for me. Maybe I could just revel in how He recklessly loves me. To the depths of my soul. Without any performance from me. He wants me. Adores me. And this love drenches me when I am not funny. When I am disobedient. When I am clumsy and emotional and frustrated and wildly crazy. It is then that he whispers “You are mine.” He knows me more fully than I know myself, the depths and the heights of every crevice of my soul and he responds “I want you.”
And in that, my weary soul finds rest.
And then, gravity sometimes sets in and some days feel more like life has woken you up abruptly and you are frazzled and your hair looks a hot mess. And you're always late. Days when you are sick and tired and outside in the cold. Times when nothing seems worth it and everyone is against you. When you feel attacked or threatened or like you are being pulled in a million directions for a million reasons when all you want is solitude and to be in your bed. And yet we drink deeply of these too. The fight. The dark night of the soul.
One minute it’s sunny, and the next minute it’s hailing.
I want to confess that I have been wrestling. I have been blatantly disobedient to the call and stirrings of Christ and I have felt guilt and shame over it, and even still a resistance remains in my heart towards the things of God. Why? I know truth after truth about the goodness and mercy of God. And yet my fleshly heart is against Him. There is a resounding terror in the idea of my surrender to Christ, of being out of control. Of being led to a place of discomfort by a God who (in my head) is ready to crush me.
I have seen my struggle and these lies I believe accidently spill into other relationships and rear their heads as anything from insecurity to jealousy. Amidst my wrestle with and against God, I have let myself be covered in lies. And worse, I believe them. Isn’t that how it goes? We get away from our life source in Christ, and we just start making our messes messier. Lately, I have been all kinds of crazy and two shades of irritable. I think the key to my distress is my lack of intimacy with Christ. My very skewed version of who God really is, and what he thinks of me. And so, with eyes to the ground, tear stained cheeks, and feeble/wobbly knees I am taking steps back towards what is true.
And true is this:
"He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will find rest in the shadow of the Almighty...He will cover you with His feathers, and under His wings you will find refuge, His faithfulness will be your shield and rampart...a thousand may fall at your side, and ten thousand at your right hand, but it shall not come near you. If you make the Most High your dwelling--even the LORD, who is my refuge then no harm will befall you, no disaster will come near your tent. For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways; they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone." -Psalm 91
"The LORD your God is with you, the Mighty Warrior who saves. He will take great delight in you; in his love he will no longer rebuke you, but will rejoice over you with singing.” -Zephaniah 3:17
There are a lot of things that I want to be. That I think I am. Things that define me and things that are true of me. I could make a long list of words that I think define me or at least that I want to define me. And my motivation behind having this definition, this persona that is all that I am and all that I want to be, is at some deep level I need to feel wanted. Against all my rational and known truths, I believe that I must perform a certain way in order that God will actually want me.
Despite my best attempts at fierce independence and nonchalance, I honestly want approval. I want to know that I am doing okay, that I am on track, that I am going in the right direction. I want justification and affirmation and acceptance. I think it’s the result of my human nature, a fallen world and the burden that all of us (at some level) bear. And so at the depths of my very fragile heart, my life is constantly being set beside a measuring stick. Am I funny? Am I pretty? Am I good? Am I right? Am I okay? Am I wanted?
In this single moment, though, I am met with the challenge to stop trying so hard to be the girl I think I am supposed to be. To instead, “dwell in the shelter of the Most High, and find rest in the shadow of the Almighty.” To yield to the God unseen, and to just be. To just exist in the sweet surrender of breathing in the breath that He has given me for this one hour. It’s a bitter pill for my pride to swallow to give up any and all expectations that I have set for myself.
Still, I feel begged, right now, to just be Ally. Nothing more, nothing less. Defined by nothing other than Christ’s love for me. Maybe today I could just sit in the magnitude of His adoration for me. Maybe I could just revel in how He recklessly loves me. To the depths of my soul. Without any performance from me. He wants me. Adores me. And this love drenches me when I am not funny. When I am disobedient. When I am clumsy and emotional and frustrated and wildly crazy. It is then that he whispers “You are mine.” He knows me more fully than I know myself, the depths and the heights of every crevice of my soul and he responds “I want you.”
And in that, my weary soul finds rest.
Friday, March 16, 2012
Sunny in Colorado
OKAY, COLORADO! The 65+ weather all week has started to make up for some of the insanity that was this winter. I am regaining some composure and respect for the weather in this state. Until Sunday when it is supposed to snow again when I will once again be forced to shake my fist at the sky and scream “WHY?!”
But for the time being, we are really enjoying as much time as possible in the great outdoors. We have played whiffle ball and Frisbee. We even ventured to K-Mart (an institution that I didn’t know still existed, seeing that my last trip there was with my mom at age 5 on the Arkansas side of Texarkana. AKA: Sketchville, USA) and bought a football and a basketball. (Lee bought both, I 'forgot my wallet.') Both of which are glow in the dark. And by "glow in the dark", the packaging meant “doesn’t glow at all, but is cheaply constructed.” But you win some and you lose some, and although neither sports item actually glows, they have provided hours of outdoor entertainment.
I would like the Internet to know that I beat Lee at HORSE. Making me the reigning HORSE champion. I will confidently opt out of any re-matches.
Still coaching track & field, and loving every minute. Especially the minute that I get to leave my full time job, and spend the rest of my day outside in the sun with funny High Schoolers.
On a more depressing note, I am starting to own up to the identity. Seriously, in real coach fashion, I ran basketball drills last night with Karla at the river court . (*Please note: There is no river nearby, it’s actually just a typical park court…but in keeping with One Tree Hill lingo, we will henceforth only refer to it as the river court.) Anyways, God love her, Karla is getting better and better at basketball. She can now walk and dribble at the same time and also knows what a crossover is. She also now knows what to do if she gets a rebound, and we talked about what it means to double dribble. She is making leaps and bounds of progress. I also bought new aviators, wear warm up suits more than I’d like to admit, and I tend to swing my stopwatch around my hand back and forth while loudly chewing gum. And with that, I am yet one step closer to cutting my hair cut to two inches, getting frosted tips, and being mildly overweight forever. I need to pump the brakes on the coach persona. IMMEDIATELY.
I like to think I that play pretty good pranks. Hell, who am I kidding? I play great pranks. The latest of which was saran wrapping the toilet of my nemesis. I snuck into his house and I saran wrapped his toilet. To my delight, I received a text this morning saying “I am going to come at you with the fury of 1000 cats” which, obviously, made this the best day of my week by far.
Someone offered me a mimosa this morning, as a typical gesture on a Friday at my full time job. But seeing that I have given up all beverages outside of water for lent (least thought through decision of my life)…I had to respond negatively. In order to get a laugh, I instead chose to respond: “Um, thanks but I’m a little more country than that.” Because why not use Eastin Corbin’s lyrics in everyday conversation?!? Turns out…architects do not have the anticipated sense of humor that I was looking for. So I dropped that line of awesome to no avail. Whatever, I still high fived myself. I still got it, y’all, I STILL GOT IT.
Ah. Its 4PM. I gotta get out of here.
But for the time being, we are really enjoying as much time as possible in the great outdoors. We have played whiffle ball and Frisbee. We even ventured to K-Mart (an institution that I didn’t know still existed, seeing that my last trip there was with my mom at age 5 on the Arkansas side of Texarkana. AKA: Sketchville, USA) and bought a football and a basketball. (Lee bought both, I 'forgot my wallet.') Both of which are glow in the dark. And by "glow in the dark", the packaging meant “doesn’t glow at all, but is cheaply constructed.” But you win some and you lose some, and although neither sports item actually glows, they have provided hours of outdoor entertainment.
I would like the Internet to know that I beat Lee at HORSE. Making me the reigning HORSE champion. I will confidently opt out of any re-matches.
Still coaching track & field, and loving every minute. Especially the minute that I get to leave my full time job, and spend the rest of my day outside in the sun with funny High Schoolers.
On a more depressing note, I am starting to own up to the identity. Seriously, in real coach fashion, I ran basketball drills last night with Karla at the river court . (*Please note: There is no river nearby, it’s actually just a typical park court…but in keeping with One Tree Hill lingo, we will henceforth only refer to it as the river court.) Anyways, God love her, Karla is getting better and better at basketball. She can now walk and dribble at the same time and also knows what a crossover is. She also now knows what to do if she gets a rebound, and we talked about what it means to double dribble. She is making leaps and bounds of progress. I also bought new aviators, wear warm up suits more than I’d like to admit, and I tend to swing my stopwatch around my hand back and forth while loudly chewing gum. And with that, I am yet one step closer to cutting my hair cut to two inches, getting frosted tips, and being mildly overweight forever. I need to pump the brakes on the coach persona. IMMEDIATELY.
I like to think I that play pretty good pranks. Hell, who am I kidding? I play great pranks. The latest of which was saran wrapping the toilet of my nemesis. I snuck into his house and I saran wrapped his toilet. To my delight, I received a text this morning saying “I am going to come at you with the fury of 1000 cats” which, obviously, made this the best day of my week by far.
Someone offered me a mimosa this morning, as a typical gesture on a Friday at my full time job. But seeing that I have given up all beverages outside of water for lent (least thought through decision of my life)…I had to respond negatively. In order to get a laugh, I instead chose to respond: “Um, thanks but I’m a little more country than that.” Because why not use Eastin Corbin’s lyrics in everyday conversation?!? Turns out…architects do not have the anticipated sense of humor that I was looking for. So I dropped that line of awesome to no avail. Whatever, I still high fived myself. I still got it, y’all, I STILL GOT IT.
Ah. Its 4PM. I gotta get out of here.
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Livin' the Dream
You guys. This seriously happened. No joke. The Mountain Winter Olympics were last weekend. The idea is that there are teams of 4 (2 boys, 2 girls) and each team is represented by a country. The best costumes to represent the country get the most amount of points. And each country participates in winter sports like sled pulls, choreographed ice skating, relays, and snowboarding/skiing. There was even a State of the Union speech that each country had to give. My little crew represented Vatican City. The smallest country in the world. And needless to say, THEY. NAILED. IT.
Lee was the pope. THE POPE! That is hilarious. I need to give Lindsay all due credit for the creation of the treasure that was the nunnery robes. They definitely had best costumes, and they only came in 2nd overall by 1 measly point. They easily would have won had Lee been able to even stand up on the ice in his ice skates. Or had he not puked during tug of war. But hey, second place ain't so bad.
In other news, I have come to grips with not looking good while working out. I have come to this peace about it because…if I looked good working out, I am 99% sure that I would not be working out. So here’s to looking better with time, but never good enough to skip the gym completely. Because I really need the endorphins, so I don’t have to do hard drugs in order to cope with stress. Seriously though, some days I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and am so shocked at my haggard reflection that I mutter “aw hell” aloud. Sometimes that happens in the bathroom which presents me with an awkward situation when I didn't know there was someone in the stall who was going to come out around the same time as I said it. Love a good bathroom encounter with a stranger.
Here’s what my life looks like on afternoons during the hot flashes in Colorado. Two words: whiffle ball.
Karla, Behnke, and I were all pretty much on the same page about the sport. Mildly serious about at least making contact with the ball, but not destroyed with a "swing and a miss!" Turns out, though, contrary to popular belief Lee doesn’t suck at baseball. Despite our best attempts at softball chanting and intense criticism, we are still usually chasing home run status balls in right field (he’s a lefty) during his entire “at bat”.
He could maybe go pro in the whiffle ball realm. I, on the other hand, am going to need to find other ways of making quick cash.-
Cue my latest “Get Rich Quick” Notable Idea: Sell myself as a nemesis.
That’s right. I saw an ad posted on craigslist where a guy is willing to pay $350 for someone to ”Steal my parking space, knock my coffee over, trip me when I'm running to catch the train and occasionally whisper in my ear, “Ahha, we meet again”. That kind of thing. Just keep me on my toes.” I’m not sure if I wanna be his nemesis or girlfriend.
With March right here in our faces, now might be an appropriate time to start planning your spring break. Oh wait. We’re adults. The most tragic truth of all time culminated this morning when I had to file my taxes by myself. Looks like spring break this year will be less beaches and bad decisions and more movies at home and going to sleep early.
Anyways, it’s getting warmer, and that is directly proportional to my getting happier. Then again, winter is a crazy B and it’s never over till its ova. Which for Colorado is around ….June. Curses.
Lee was the pope. THE POPE! That is hilarious. I need to give Lindsay all due credit for the creation of the treasure that was the nunnery robes. They definitely had best costumes, and they only came in 2nd overall by 1 measly point. They easily would have won had Lee been able to even stand up on the ice in his ice skates. Or had he not puked during tug of war. But hey, second place ain't so bad.In other news, I have come to grips with not looking good while working out. I have come to this peace about it because…if I looked good working out, I am 99% sure that I would not be working out. So here’s to looking better with time, but never good enough to skip the gym completely. Because I really need the endorphins, so I don’t have to do hard drugs in order to cope with stress. Seriously though, some days I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and am so shocked at my haggard reflection that I mutter “aw hell” aloud. Sometimes that happens in the bathroom which presents me with an awkward situation when I didn't know there was someone in the stall who was going to come out around the same time as I said it. Love a good bathroom encounter with a stranger.
Here’s what my life looks like on afternoons during the hot flashes in Colorado. Two words: whiffle ball.
Karla, Behnke, and I were all pretty much on the same page about the sport. Mildly serious about at least making contact with the ball, but not destroyed with a "swing and a miss!" Turns out, though, contrary to popular belief Lee doesn’t suck at baseball. Despite our best attempts at softball chanting and intense criticism, we are still usually chasing home run status balls in right field (he’s a lefty) during his entire “at bat”.He could maybe go pro in the whiffle ball realm. I, on the other hand, am going to need to find other ways of making quick cash.-
Cue my latest “Get Rich Quick” Notable Idea: Sell myself as a nemesis.
That’s right. I saw an ad posted on craigslist where a guy is willing to pay $350 for someone to ”Steal my parking space, knock my coffee over, trip me when I'm running to catch the train and occasionally whisper in my ear, “Ahha, we meet again”. That kind of thing. Just keep me on my toes.” I’m not sure if I wanna be his nemesis or girlfriend.
With March right here in our faces, now might be an appropriate time to start planning your spring break. Oh wait. We’re adults. The most tragic truth of all time culminated this morning when I had to file my taxes by myself. Looks like spring break this year will be less beaches and bad decisions and more movies at home and going to sleep early.
Anyways, it’s getting warmer, and that is directly proportional to my getting happier. Then again, winter is a crazy B and it’s never over till its ova. Which for Colorado is around ….June. Curses.
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Best Texts of 2012
So far this year kicked off with my friends being funnier than usual. And I would like to applaud them for that accomplishment. Please allow me to share some of the funniest texts of 2012 (thus far).
1. One day I sent Behnke (Behnkster, LB, O'TP) a Good Morning text of encouragement, because that’s really all I have going for me as far as spiritual gifts go. Her response blew my mind, and is, to date, in the running for the best text I have received in 2012.
Me: “blah blah blah, I love you, you’re cool, your hair has more potential than you think…etc etc etc”
LB: “Al. You are so encouraging and really good at the cycle jump of the triple jump. I love how you talk about Jesus and sometimes you curse because it’s funny. It’s cool. I admire your kale intake, and will pray that [full time job] doesn’t take your soul today. I am so happy Jesus is using you at [part time job that I love] for His glory. It was so awesome to see you so willing to follow him. I dare you to eat cheese today, you lactard.”
And with that, ladies and gentlemen, my day was officially made.
Thank you Lindsay Behnke, once again, for making me smile, laugh, and spit out my drink in front of a co-worker. You are an absolute GEM.
2. Everyone knows about the "bridge diagram" if you have even slightly heard of Kanakuk Kamps. This is the conversation me and my littlest, funniest sister had about the Joe White patented evangelism method. And if you dont know about it, just stop reading now because this epic conversation will mean nothing to you.
Me: "Maybe you could tell Jillian Michaels about Jesus if she was your trainer."
B: "Ha, yea as Im whining in pain, ill be sure to lay out the gospel in its fullness. Bridge diagram and all."
Me: "All you need is a napkin, Brittney."
B: "It's fool proof. Even on a plane."
Me: "Amen. Why Joe White never patented that is something I will never understand. It should be everywhere."
B: "On posters."
Me: "TV."
B: "Billboards."
Me: "Websites."
B: "Movie previews."
Me: "Lanyards around the neck of every claimed Christian."
B: "Tattooed across my back. I'll stretch out my arms and let the backs of them serve as the cliff ledges...I can tattoo 'God' on my left arm, and 'man' on the other, and the cross bridging the gap across my back."
And THAT, is the funniest thing Brit has said since she quoted Baby Mama SO FLAWLESSLY about 3 years ago. I still havent forgotten, B. We. Are. Funny.
3. Lee Michael, Land Man - (LMLM) has appeared on this blog for his humor before, but he has done it again! Upon a discussion about the dreary Colorado weather that we are currently experiencing, which was preceded by a few days of 60+ degree temperatures:
Me: "I hope you have a better day than the weather is obviously having."
LMLM: "Well, I woke up when I was supposed to be at the office...so there's that. In reference to the weather, that ole menopausing B...misery loves company. I'm peering out the 7th floor window at Mother Nature's prickly winter legs. She teased me for two days dancing around in her spring skirt...only to leave me disappointed once again."
Cripes, can it possibly get any better than this?? I submit that it cannot.
I love my friends. I love that God made them really funny.
Keep the witty comments coming, people. Post them in the comments section below, even.
1. One day I sent Behnke (Behnkster, LB, O'TP) a Good Morning text of encouragement, because that’s really all I have going for me as far as spiritual gifts go. Her response blew my mind, and is, to date, in the running for the best text I have received in 2012.
Me: “blah blah blah, I love you, you’re cool, your hair has more potential than you think…etc etc etc”
LB: “Al. You are so encouraging and really good at the cycle jump of the triple jump. I love how you talk about Jesus and sometimes you curse because it’s funny. It’s cool. I admire your kale intake, and will pray that [full time job] doesn’t take your soul today. I am so happy Jesus is using you at [part time job that I love] for His glory. It was so awesome to see you so willing to follow him. I dare you to eat cheese today, you lactard.”
And with that, ladies and gentlemen, my day was officially made.
Thank you Lindsay Behnke, once again, for making me smile, laugh, and spit out my drink in front of a co-worker. You are an absolute GEM.
2. Everyone knows about the "bridge diagram" if you have even slightly heard of Kanakuk Kamps. This is the conversation me and my littlest, funniest sister had about the Joe White patented evangelism method. And if you dont know about it, just stop reading now because this epic conversation will mean nothing to you.
Me: "Maybe you could tell Jillian Michaels about Jesus if she was your trainer."
B: "Ha, yea as Im whining in pain, ill be sure to lay out the gospel in its fullness. Bridge diagram and all."
Me: "All you need is a napkin, Brittney."
B: "It's fool proof. Even on a plane."
Me: "Amen. Why Joe White never patented that is something I will never understand. It should be everywhere."
B: "On posters."
Me: "TV."
B: "Billboards."
Me: "Websites."
B: "Movie previews."
Me: "Lanyards around the neck of every claimed Christian."
B: "Tattooed across my back. I'll stretch out my arms and let the backs of them serve as the cliff ledges...I can tattoo 'God' on my left arm, and 'man' on the other, and the cross bridging the gap across my back."
And THAT, is the funniest thing Brit has said since she quoted Baby Mama SO FLAWLESSLY about 3 years ago. I still havent forgotten, B. We. Are. Funny.
3. Lee Michael, Land Man - (LMLM) has appeared on this blog for his humor before, but he has done it again! Upon a discussion about the dreary Colorado weather that we are currently experiencing, which was preceded by a few days of 60+ degree temperatures:
Me: "I hope you have a better day than the weather is obviously having."
LMLM: "Well, I woke up when I was supposed to be at the office...so there's that. In reference to the weather, that ole menopausing B...misery loves company. I'm peering out the 7th floor window at Mother Nature's prickly winter legs. She teased me for two days dancing around in her spring skirt...only to leave me disappointed once again."
Cripes, can it possibly get any better than this?? I submit that it cannot.
I love my friends. I love that God made them really funny.
Keep the witty comments coming, people. Post them in the comments section below, even.
Friday, March 2, 2012
Texas Forever
Howdy Y’ALL!
It’s March 2. Does anyone know what this MEANS?! Does anyone fully grasp the magnitude of this day!?? It’s a holiday, y’all!
That’s right, IT’S TEXAS INDEPENDENCE DAY!!!!!!
We have Tex-Mex. We have pearl snap shirts. We have cowboy boots. We have Billy Bob’s. We have GEICO commercials. We have Stetson hats and big hair. We have Wranglers. We have warm weather, and awesome tans. We have two steppin’. We have tailgates and BBQ. We have horses and cows. We have pecan trees and bluebonnets. We have Texas Roadhouse and steak and ribs and those freakin awesome rolls with the cinnamon butter. We have PRIDE, TEXAS PRIDE!!!
Today, I am going to celebrate Texas style, because anyone who knows me knows that being a Texan means damn near everything in my book.
Everything is bigger in Texas, and therefore to highlight the awesomeness of that former nation, turned state I plan to stuff my face with chips and salsa and red meat until I can no longer breathe, while humming “Texas, our Texas” and using the word “y’all” as much as humanly possible. I’m wearing my Lone Star State shirt, and I don’t plan on taking it off anytime soon.
TEXAS FOREVERRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!
And remember: “If at first we don’t secede, (we’ll) try try again.”
It’s March 2. Does anyone know what this MEANS?! Does anyone fully grasp the magnitude of this day!?? It’s a holiday, y’all!
That’s right, IT’S TEXAS INDEPENDENCE DAY!!!!!!
We have Tex-Mex. We have pearl snap shirts. We have cowboy boots. We have Billy Bob’s. We have GEICO commercials. We have Stetson hats and big hair. We have Wranglers. We have warm weather, and awesome tans. We have two steppin’. We have tailgates and BBQ. We have horses and cows. We have pecan trees and bluebonnets. We have Texas Roadhouse and steak and ribs and those freakin awesome rolls with the cinnamon butter. We have PRIDE, TEXAS PRIDE!!!
Today, I am going to celebrate Texas style, because anyone who knows me knows that being a Texan means damn near everything in my book.
Everything is bigger in Texas, and therefore to highlight the awesomeness of that former nation, turned state I plan to stuff my face with chips and salsa and red meat until I can no longer breathe, while humming “Texas, our Texas” and using the word “y’all” as much as humanly possible. I’m wearing my Lone Star State shirt, and I don’t plan on taking it off anytime soon.
TEXAS FOREVERRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!
And remember: “If at first we don’t secede, (we’ll) try try again.”
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