out and about

It's my last Saturday before the fog begins!

Work travel gears up next weekend, and Saturdays from here until the end of time second week in December are spent in football stadiums, not relaxing or doing fun things like I might prefer.

It's a lot of pressure, needing today to be productive, but wanting it to be fun.

Good news: I woke up at 6:00 and packed a lot of goodness into my day.

Bad news: My debit card took a beating!

But it was so fun.  Here are the highlights:

• Ran a couple of miles on the trails and had a relaxing breakfast outside with my pal Donna to start my day.  It was gorgeous out there!
 
• Got Dad's birthday present (and a fun little happy for Mom) wrapped, packed, and shipped.  I think they're both gonna like 'em!
 
• Bought the materials to make my shadowbox, commemorating the Providence half.  Can't wait to get that done!
 
• Found these cute snakeskin flats to carry with me on game days, for when my feet are screaming.  Most importantly, they were 50% off.
 
• Purchased some fun dresses for upcoming game weekends, but alas, they were not on sale.  Not one of my prouder shopping days.
 
• Treated myself to a pedicure because my feet were killing me from all the shopping to kick off the season of 14-hour days on stadium concrete!  Livin' the dream, people.  Livin' the dream.

Sure hope y'all are having a weekend that's full of the things that make you wanna say, "Now that was a great Saturday!"

thankful thursday #40

As reported on Saturday night, Carter laughed in the face of his due date and came early, on his terms.

I suspected he wouldn't wait until his scheduled arrival.  And I knew the odds were not in my favor, but I prayed anyway that somehow I would get to see him in the hospital, on the day he was born.

I'm so (selfishly) thankful that God's rules of chance are not mine, and that I was able to hold that sweet little man when he was just six hours old.



Seriously, look at that face.  Can you blame me?

You know what's got my heart smiling this week.  And you?  Go on, be grateful!

clothed

When I shared about my first experience wearing this t-shirt ...



... I 'fessed up to liking the look without anticipating the conversations it would spark.

I wore it out again this past Friday night to run errands, and to a movie.

This time, I was prepared.  Ready to represent.

When I walked into a store, I waited the extra minute that I usually don't, to hold the door for the person coming up behind me.

As I interacted with the cashier, I asked how her day had been, and wished her a happy weekend when she passed my purchase over the counter.

In the theater, when I wanted to wring the necks of the giggling teenagers on my row, I tempered my irritation.  How can I wring their necks with the love of Christ?

Over the top?  Maybe.

But the t-shirt -- the visible mark that identified myself as a believer -- made me uber-conscious of how I treated people, and how I responded to them.

And I can't help but wonder how our representation of Christ would change if we thought of ourselves as ...

... visibly labeled as a believer ...

... visibly stamped with His seal ...

... visibly marked for eternal life.

What if our mindset wasn't dictated by wearing a t-shirt, but by being truly clothed in Christ?

it's a boy

Dear Carter Christopher,

Words will never come close to describing the joy that overflowed our hearts today when you made your big debut!

We are head over heels for you.

It has been a whirlwind of a day, but before I rest, I had to capture my favorite memories of the day:

1. The unexpected, last-minute decision to fly to see you ... on the day you were born!  It is worth every single penny.
 
2. Going crazy in the Chick-fil-A with Mom, Linda, and Sonny when your dad called to tell us you were here.  And the mail man who looked at us funny from the next booth over.
 
3. Getting to fly with your Kaki.  She was out of her mind!
 
4. Picking up lovely flowers for your lovely mom, some fun balloons for your room, and some food for your dad on the way to the hospital.
 
5. Seeing your mom and dad hold you like they've done this a hundred times before.  They are naturals.
 
6. Picking up your Gigi from the airport and getting to see her meet you for the first time.  It was so tender.
 
7. The elevator in the apartment breaking, and having to lug your Gigi's luggage (two weeks worth of clothes, by the way) up seven flights of stairs.  We love you a lot.
 
8. All the family and friends that were calling and texting and asking for your picture.  You are such a celebrity already!

Happy Birthday, Little Man.

And so nice to meet you.

=====================================

** 08.27.11 update**  Your Gigi isn't Gigi anymore.  She wasn't feeling the connection to that name, so now she's Emmy.  You won't know any different, or have a complex about your grandparents' identities or anything, but when you're old enough to read this, you'll think it's funny.

i am second (to mary and the disciples)

One of the sponsoring ministries of my recent mission trip was I am Second.

It's a movement inspiring people to live a life committed to Christ first, and loving His people.  You can check it out here.

Anyway, they provided a t-shirt that looks a little something like this ...



... and I happen to wear it a lot.

I wore it the day after I got home from Peru, and I stopped into a gas station to buy a Gatorade.  I placed my Grape G2 on the counter, and the clerk asked me, "What're you second to?"

I was loving my shirt but had given little thought to its practical ramifications.

What is he ... oh my word.  Really, Lord?  Now?

"I'm second to Christ," I responded.

The clerk gave me a wry grin and said, "How'd you get to be above Mary and the disciples?"

It took me a second to follow his thinking, and when I caught on, I knew he wasn't kidding.

I pulled out two dollar bills from my wallet and tried to clean up my mess of a witnessing opportunity.

"No, sorry" I looked down, feeling awkward and bashful.  And then I looked him in the eye.  "I didn't mean I was second in Christ's life, I meant that He's first in mine."

"Well then that's a good person to be second to."  He handed me my change.

"I think so," I smiled, "and I hope you can say the same thing."

"Yes ma'am," and he nodded.  (Does that mean he can?  How do I follow up to that?  DisASTer.)

He bid me good-bye.  I thanked him and returned to my car.

Funny, Lord.  I sure appreciate Your welcome home.  Good grief.

I was caught off guard, miscommunicated the message, and maybe walked away from a conversation that man needed to have.  I won't know.

Fortunately, God is never caught off guard, He never miscommunicates, and He never walks away when someone needs to talk.  I find great comfort in that.

I have more thoughts on this business of my new favorite t-shirt, but because I believe in keeping these posts to a reasonable length for the average reader-in-a-hurry, check back in a day or two.

Who knew a t-shirt was such a game-changer?

thankful thursday #39

I've had better weeks.

Last night when I pulled into my parking space, something seemed not quite right.

It seemed a little dark.

Why yes, yes it was.  Because a headlight on my car had gone out.

Again.

For the fourth time in less than a year.  (Yes, I've had them check the wiring.)

Frustrating!

But I'm thankful that I discovered it last night, after I had elected to drive home from a business trip in the daylight, rather than at night.

And that both those headlights are bright and shiny again tonight, ready to light up my paths.



Wishing y'all a very bright weekend!

In the meantime, what're you appreciating today?  Go on, be grateful!

two weeks notice

Dear Baby,

I talked to your dad tonight, and I can just tell it, you are itchin' to meet us!

You're growing like a weed (8.9 lbs, at 37 weeks, whoah)!  Your dad was less than 8 pounds when he was born, but your mom was a perfect 10, so maybe -- if your mom is lucky -- you'll land somewhere right in the middle.

You are moving around like crazy.  Your mom and dad get kicks out of your kicks, and I am banking on you being a little ball of energy as soon as you get here.

Everything about you looks healthy and happy. You are rumored to have a thick head of hair, chubby cheeks, and a round belly!  I love it!

Even though you were expected to be a September baby, it looks like you won't be here any later than the 30th of this month.  And that just happens to be my dad's -- your granddad's (name still TBD, ugh!) -- birthday!

(Actually, I happen to be really struggling to find a great birthday present for him, so if you could somehow make your grand entrance on the 30th, that would take some pressure off.)

Many thanks, and much love to you.

shock waves

Our church family experienced major shock waves late Saturday afternoon when we were notified that our Recreation Ministries Director had suddenly passed away.

Since I received the news, my stomach has turned, my heart's been sad, and the tears have spilled over easily.

When believers pass away, we know the sadness is one-sided.  It's felt by and for the people left behind, not for the one who has met Jesus face to face.  And we pray that somehow through the unexpected slipping away of our friend, we will see the glory of God revealed in a new way.

There have been beautiful, sweet words shared among our friends, honoring his memory and the legacy he left here on earth.  We exchange stories about his infectious hilarity; his unending selflessness; his devoted service to the Lord, and to His people.

Our stories seem like a desperate attempt to bring him back.  Like if we talk about him, we won't miss him so much.

But we do.  We miss Rob.

Sunday morning was, by far, the most difficult church service many of us can recall ever attending.  Even still, I stubbornly acknowledged a little bit of that glory peeking through the darkness.

I personally felt a vulnerability sweeping through our church body, pricking hearts and prompting raw emotions like never before.  I'm banking on that transparency to be the rule for us moving forward, not the exception.

We pray that people will be inspired by Rob's service to pay it forward, and to pull together to fill the gaps that seem impossible to overcome in his absence.

Ultimately, we hope for spiritual growth among our church family, knowing that great growth comes from great pain.

In the meantime, I'm clinging to Psalm 34:18.

"The Lord is close to the brokenhearted
and saves those who are crushed in spirit."

thankful thursday #38

Look at my friend Donna and her cute hat!



So thankful she liked her Peruvian souvenir!

(On another note, I love the iPhone, but good grief, it's time to incorporate some photos of higher quality.)

I can't wait for this weekend of no agenda.  I hope you have something fun that's (un)planned, too!

In the meantime, what're you thankful for today?  Go on, be grateful!

peru: a testimony

Four folks on our mission team were asked to share a brief testimony at our victory celebration at the end of the week.

Each one was only three minutes, and since it was being translated, only about ninety seconds in reality.

Here was one near and dear to my heart:

My name is Robyn, and I don't speak Spanish.  I have no medical training.  And I've never been to seminary for formal theological education.

But I came here anyway, with a bunch of doctors, nurses, and pharmacists; with folks who speak Spanish fluently; and with people who have spent years studying the Bible.

I'd like to quickly share with you how I was touched this week, in spite of all that, and how anyone -- even someone like me -- can leave here a little more spiritually "grown up."

When we opened the clinic every morning with music, singing with people who don't look like us or talk like us, I saw a small glimpse of what it will look like one day, when all nations and tongues will bow together and confess Jesus as Lord.

When we served as a team together in the clinic, I felt a little bit of the joy Jesus feels when He sees His body functioning in unity, loving His people.

On the other hand, the first time I shared the Gospel this week, the woman sitting across from me was distracted and unreceptive.  In a very small way, I sensed a rejection that Jesus feels when people don't choose Him.  Or worse, when His children are too distracted to listen and hear Him.

So on two ends of the spectrum, this week has given me a chance to feel what Jesus feels, and to see people the way He sees us.

I'm grateful to have "grown up" with y'all this week!

Nothing fancy, really.  But a perspective deeply impacted, hopefully for good.

heavy medal

It is finished!

On race day, Providence poured rain on every square inch of its 13.1-mile course, except for under its bridges.  So generous, that Providence.

But despite the saturated socks and shoes and the unkind placement of hills, glory to God, Bethany and I finished.



(Forgive the photo quality.  We weren't willing to walk any further for a post-race shot than the first hotel maid we saw.)

Almost 36 hours later, I'm still limping on stairs, but my body has finally begun to forgive me for thinking I was fit enough to tackle such nonsense.

Maybe I'll consider another one, but for now, I'll just enjoy the heavy medal.

thankful thursday #37

I'm packing tonight for my trip here ...



... to run this race (against all logic) ...



... and I'm feeling strangely thankful that I don't have to pack any of this ...



... to make my trip there better.

And that, folks, is how my perspective of gratitude is forever changed after a mission trip.  Yish.

And you?  Go on, you gotta be grateful for something!

tomato pie

One night in Peru, we visited some "hot springs."

When I hear "hot springs," I envision a somewhat natural body of water, with rocks and waterfalls.

When we showed up at these hot springs, it was clear my idealism needed to be reined in, because the "hot springs" was, in fact, a public swimming pool that reeked of sulfur.

I (and other wise skeptics) opted out of the full hot springs experience, and took advantage instead of the opportunity to watch those who didn't seem bothered by the public pool reality. 



At the time, we were majorly craving American food, and we bantered back and forth about what we'd eat first when we got home (this was before the re-entry episode, by the way).

Sweet Mary Beth got going on Tomato Pie, and simply put, it's the perfect intersection of Southern cooking, juicy summer tomatoes, and of course, my most beloved ingredient: cheese.

When I got home and was feeling up to speed, the cheeseburger was the first bite of indulgence.  But Tomato Pie was my first dish to cook with my own hands.

There are hundreds of recipe variations of this beauty, but here's the best I've come up with so far.  It's named after Mary Beth, because she got me into the spinach and mayo components, which were game changers.

Mary Beth's Tomato Pie

1 prepared, frozen deep dish pie crust
2 pretty, red summer tomatoes
2-3 c. of your favorite cheese combo (I use some combo of mozz and provolone)
1 package of fresh basil, coarsely chopped
1/2 bag of triple-washed baby spinach, coarsely chopped
2 green onions (light green and white parts only), chopped
2 Tbsp. (ish) of mayo

1. Toast the pie crust in the oven on 350 degrees for about 8-10 minutes.  It might get a little bit golden, but don't let it go much longer.  It still has to cook again!
 
2. Peel and slice the tomatoes, and blot the slices between super-absorbent paper towels.  I know, I don't love peeling tomatoes either, but do it.  It's so much easier to eat!  And the blotting?  There might be a better way, but the goal is to have as little moisture as possible, so your crust doesn't get any soggier than it's already going to be.
 
3. Mix the basil, spinach, green onions and mayo in a bowl.  The mayo here is really just intended to give the greens a little something to cling to, so don't overdo it.
 
4. Spread about a cup of your cheese in the bottom of the crust.
 
5. Layer the tomato slices on top of the cheese.
 
6. Spread the greens mixture on top of the tomatoes.
 
7. Top with the remaining cheese, and bake until the cheese is bubbly and your crust is just brown enough for you.
 
8. Serve it up and savor every bite, but let it sit for a spell before you do.  It'll be a little bit more cooperative when you slice it.

Mine never looks this picturesque, and my primary concern is eating the pie, not garnishing it with a sprig of basil, but doesn't this look so yummy?



Have I mentioned how great it is to be eating acceptable foods home?