Toilet Paper and Ministry

I turned 29 over a month ago. My memory must already be slipping with my increasing age. For I browsed through the pictures on my phone and found this...

The youth group loves me.

Pool Daze

So yesterday I went to the pool. Applied a little sun screen and lotion, and proceeded to listen to the giggles and laughter of small ones in the pool.

Two little girls, once told by mom it was time to go, proceeded to say in their little whiney way "Noooooooooo... five more minutes?"

I remember going to the pool as an ankle biter, and could always sense when it was time to go. Mom would get up from her lawn chair and make her way to the pool's edge. But I outsmarted her everytime with my childhood wit and smarts.

See, you can't hear much when you're under the water. So as soon as she would open her mouth, under the water I would go. Diving, jumping, swimming... even just sitting at the bottom. Didn't matter. I can't hear you. I can't hear you.

THAT's all that mattered.

Until finally I would catch a smidgen of her anger in between splashes.

I got out of the pool.

But I wanted to go up to these kids and tell them my secret.

"No, don't argue and whine with your mom. Just ignore her. Completely. Until she feels tempted to beat you. At that point. go ahead and get out."

And then I wonder if teaching them how to be brats is really what a responsible adult should do.

And then I remembered that I'm an adult brat.

After The Beep

After not being able to locate my cell phone for an hour this morning, I experienced the following:

• fear of the unknown future
• anxiety about communicating with loved ones
• failure to provide availability
• grief regarding the possible loss of a life line
• anxiety about the end of the world
• an incessant need to pee but not wanting to take the precious time to do so lest someone try to contact me and I am unable to answer
• barely audible mumbles that faintly resembled what may or may not be my Bob Marley ring tone
• wha-uh- was that a text message alert?
• frustration
• curiosity regarding the apparent misplacement of my phone

And then as time went by, my thoughts changed to the following:

• the once bare trees have become quite green
• when did my dog get so big?
• more coffee
• ten years ago I didn't have a cell phone... and I made it through just fine
• when not having a choice but to exist in the realm of being phoneless, the world is somehow a little less stressful
• but I thought I NEEDED my phone?
• you mean, I DON'T need it?
• what?
• i should vacuum

Then I found it. No one called. There was no text message waiting on me. Just a lot of wasted worry for a 4" device that gives me stiffness in the neck and distractions when I drive.

Drum Trip

That's the name of the song (by Rusted Root) that carried me through as I ran my very first 5k race last Saturday. I listened to the same song over and over again as it seemed to give me just the right amount of inspiration and rhythm. You can see me here right in the middle behind the African American lady.

Notice the boy in the far right of the picture. At this point he was yelling. I could have lent him my earphones.

But nah.

As I approached the finish line in a blaze of glory, no one, not even Tabitha, could capture me in a focused picture. The brevity with which I moved proved to be a great challenge for photographers everywhere.

But alas, I did end up in a small picture on the front page of Sunday's paper along with my running mates Nancy and Kari. The picture, though small, was quite clear.

Thirty minutes after taking off from the starting line, I, along with my two friends, completed the race with a healthy sense of accomplishment and a ferocious need for breakfast.