FarmerBoy

I'm the oldest, and was adopted at 6 months of age. Four months later, FarmerBoy was born. So the two of us grew up together, a mere 10 months between us. FarmerBoy loved riding in the grain trucks to the elevator, riding in the tractors in the field, and riding in the combine during harvest. So upon graduation from high school, he got his farm management degree, bought some land, married a wife, and settled down to live the good life.

FarmerBoy, while quite phone-savvy, still does not have a facebook account and is not overly excited about being a blog-reader. But recently, for the first time, he checked it out. The funny part is that at first, he had no idea who the pseudonyms were for. For example, he thought it very strange that I had a pet guinea pig who died the same time our other sister's guinea pig passed away. But once he figured out that I used pseudonyms for people he knew (most of whom he is related to), he got into the site a bit more. He even did a search to see how many times "FarmerBoy" came up in the blog!

So welcome FarmerBoy. AngelOwner is a loyal reader, and gets after me when I don't post on a daily basis. My mom facebooks me when she likes posts, because she "can't seem to figure out how to comment on the blog." I have to keep my family happy; without them, my readership would look pretty pathetic...


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The Secret and a Chocolate Chip Cookie

Let's start off with a quick disclaimer: after the events of the day, but prior to writing this post, I did a little research to find out what "The Secret" actually was, and I conclude it is a theory that took the Truth, twisted and wrung God out of it, and replaced God with worship of self. So in light of that, I am definitely NOT promoting nor supporting "The Secret," and have some theories about what ACTUALLY happened today. Make sure you read to the end.

One day a few summers ago, a golf league friend was telling me about Oprah and The Secret. The jist of it, as I understood it, was that you literally yelled into the universe something that you wanted, and then you waited for it to come back to you. I'm pretty sure it was listener error and not my friend's fault that I was so confused. Anyways, I understood that somehow, by telling the universe what I wanted and really focusing my energy on getting it, the universe would fulfill my request.

So today, in the law journal office, I was sitting with a few friends and it occurred to me that I wanted a chocolate chip cookie. I joked about The Secret, and we began visualizing our desires: we also wanted a certain friend to arrive so she could sign some cards, and another friend wanted an eggroll. But I was the only one who took the time to yell out to the universe, "CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIE!!!"

Imagine our surprise when, in thirty minutes, CookieMan appeared. He walked in with a small wax-paper bag. I asked CookieMan if he had a cookie. He said yes. I asked what kind. He said chocolate chip. He asked if I wanted some; he had gotten it for me because I had let him borrow my phone charger. In his own words, "I was walking by the stand, and I heard a voice say, get [freetobeme350] a chocolate chip cookie."

Now, it is possible that he actually physically heard me. I am quite loud. (That was a joke, the stand is several blocks away. I'm not THAT loud). There was no way he received a text, because his phone was being charged with us in the journal office. Call it what you will, but I confidently asked for a chocolate chip cookie and I got one.

But why a chocolate chip cookie, and not the friend, or the eggroll? Was it because I said it out loud? Was it a coincidence? Do I believe in coincidence? (Not really.) Mathew 17:20 comes to mind: "If you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you.” But the context of those verses was healing a demon-possessed boy, not asking for a trivial chocolate chip cookie.

While I don't have a ready answer for why God sent me a cookie, I know that it had nothing to do with my powers. II Corinthians 3:4-6, my verse o' the day, reminds me that I am not sufficient to claim anything as coming from me; rather, my sufficiency comes from God. Yes, I am still a bit befuddled. Yes, I seem to be yelling a lot lately. Yes, I intend to see if I can replicate these cookie appearances.

But No, I'm not 100% sure I know what it all means.


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A January Story

I can't believe it's February already! I still haven't shared all my January stories!

One evening in January, I went to bed late. Which meant, subsequently, I woke up late. Leaving me a mere hour to get myself prepared for a few days in the Spare Room, get Daughter on the bus, and get to school on time despite several inches of snow.

Number 1? Fail. Number 2? Fail. Number 3? Fail.

See, while I was running around like a crazy person, trying to shower, dress myself, pack my books, and pack clothes for the next two days, I was also sort-of cleaning for the person who cleans my house. I vowed I would never become that person, but alas, I grew up. The pile of recycling overflowed its poor brown grocery bag and entirely filled the gap between the pantry and the fridge. It was embarrassingly atrocious, and in my OCD state I could not allow it.

So I asked daughter to take out the recycling. Great idea, right? She's done it before. Never this Much recycling a mere fifteen minutes before the bus was to arrive, but what's that to a stressed out mom?

I continue running around, and a confused daughter trudges inside and outside with several loads of recycling. And I notice that she hasn't come back in a while. I stick my head out the door, and she is struggling a bit with the last bag. I yell some, er, "encouragement" out the door. She empties the bag. I tell her to walk around to the front of the house, and I will let her in the front door, thinking to myself that this will avoid snowy shoes walking through the length of the entire house. Ironically, I had forgotten the cleaning lady was coming.

So I run to the front of the house, and open the front door, and wait. And wait. And in horror, I realize she didn't understand. SHE DIDN'T UNDERSTAND. I run to the back door. Sure enough, there she is in the entry. And I flipped out, yelling something to the effect of why are you in the house why don't you listen etc etc.

Don't worry, I see the error in my ways. And I saw my error immediately that day as well. Here's Daughter, with tears in her eyes because I'm the MEANEST MOM EVER. And I'm about to leave for a few days. So I wave off the bus, reconcile with Daughter, and try to finish packing as quickly as possible so she isn't late to school.

I start the car, Daughter waits inside it, and I run in the house for the last load. As I walk inside, I yell to God. "HELP MEEEEEEEEEE! HHHHHEEEELLLLLLLPPPPP!"

I hear a thunk, and someone approaches. Suddenly, Mocha appears in the doorway.

Sigh.

So yes, in the end, I totally missed my 9 a.m. class. Daughter missed the bus. And I went way beyond my one hour time limit. Fail fail fail. BUT my teacher was fine with me missing class due to horrible metro traffic, Daughter and I shared a moment in the car, and my dog is a servant of the Lord. The end.




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Warm or cold water?

Today, I met with the Teenager on campus for coffee before participating on a panel about law school at a nearby classroom. He was relaying a story to me about how he and his roommate saved their hall by notifying the appropriate people they had no heat or hot water. His story began like this:

"I was brushing my teeth and I said to Roommate, we have no hot water-"

"Wait," I interject. "You brush your teeth with hot water?"

He looked at me incredulously.

"You brush your teeth with cold water?"

I explained that a hot toothbrush sounds gross. He said hot water kills the germs. We are both confident we are the non-weird one. So please let us know - hot or cold?

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The Best-est

I love coaching. But sometimes, I have to keep grounded in what's really important. It can't be about winning; it has to be about playing well, improving, working hard, and developing some character along the way. I believe I was called to be a coach this season, and that my purpose is not to rack up wins, but to build relationships around a medium I love.

But don't get me wrong, I love to win.

Next week is our first tournament. It's exciting and nerve-wracking, all at the same time. Today at volleyball practice, I wanted to communicate that our success next week is not measured by our wins, but by how well we play, how hard we play, and that we don't give up.

In an ironic twist, I asked them all, "So, how many of you are really competitive and like to win?"

Everyone raises their hand.

"Well, I'm the most competitive of anyone, and I --"

Suddenly an assistant coach (let's name her Prodigy. Not only is she multi-talented, but I also think of her as my coaching mentee) giggled. Everyone turned to look, and she said with a smile, "I just thought that was funny, because you were talking about being competitive, and then you said you were the MOST competitive..."

We all shared a laugh. It's true. Who am I kidding? I love winning. I love being the Best-est, including (apparently) being the most competitive. Luckily, I can admit it, and can laugh at myself for it.

Today's church sermon reminded me that my worth is not based on my performance... but rather, my worth is based in Christ. The analogy between my pep-talk to the girls, and life, is pretty amazing: The scoreboard doesn't measure who worked the most, or the hardest, or improved. The scoreboard is an unfair measurement of success. And as the coach, I don't care (for the most part) whether we win; what I care about is never giving up, working hard, and developing character.

Similarly, Christ doesn't care if I win at anything here on earth, but whether I never give up, whether I work hard, and develop character. Unfortunately, my character (like most people's) is formed more by losing than winning. And, as Prodigy and I joke, we feel we've had ENOUGH character development for a while. It's bed nice to let someone ELSE grow for a while...

Anywho, I hope we win next week. But it's kind of a win-win. Either we bring home the hardware, or we bring home some valuable life-lessons. I'm hoping for both.


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