Toothpaste and Spelunking

A week ago I spent some time in Missouri with my beloved family. Dad was speaking at an encampment and we came along for the ride. Many games of Farkle and Parcheesi were played. The last day we were there I woke up and I am not exactly a morning person. I’m not cranky, just don’t approach me too suddenly. I go to the sink and proceed to put toothpaste on my toothbrush like normal and brush my teeth. Next thing I know, as I’m putting on my clothes a detect a slight mint scent. I then go to put up my hair and… wonderful. There is toothpaste in it. This is already a sign that the day is not going to be ordinary. I had signed up for a cave tour earlier in the week. Harmless right? Some nice safe wandering, maybe a bit of climbing, possibly some sleeping bats involved. Wrong. We are talking full on cave exploring. I really should have gotten the hint when I showed up at the mouth of the cave and everyone was wearing pants and long sleeved shirts (some even had those flashlights you wear on your head) except the burly cave guide who was sporting jeans and a muscle shirt. The guide, whose name was Joe, then explained if anyone was claustrophobic, not very strong, or scared of the dark they should back out now. I zoned out and thought about that for a second… I caught a few more words like 60-degree water, crawling, and cave critters. I turned around to the guy behind me and saw that he was also in shorts and a t-shirt and asked if had done this before, he said no and that he didn’t get the flashlight memo either.

Lets pause the story and take a moment to assess the other characters that are also embarking on this cave exploration. It was the biggest group of misfits ever. A bunch of eclectic people, that’s for sure. There were two stereotypical loud interrupting question askers that often debated each other, a few middle school boys who were timid and honestly quite fragile to be embarking on such a journey, and of course a few more that would not stop singing show tunes and Disney songs, and then me and DJ (the kid who was also not appropriately dressed for the occasion and seemed normal.) we were the oldest and possibly the most sane.

So I went inside the cave. I couldn’t just back out—I was already there. Homeboy Joe wasn’t playing. We crawled into spaces that were so small that I did not even have enough room to army crawl. I got on my stomach and crawled through freezing water and at that point I was thankful it was dark so that I didn’t have to experience these “cave critters” that were probably swimming alongside me. You had no option but to get close to the person next to you, so DJ and I became very good friends. We brought up the tail end of the group. Finally after an hour of crawling and gaining multiple bruises and scrapes we stand up which I thought would be better, again... wrong. We then squeeze our way between the walls of the cave that at some points, if I tighten my stomach muscles, were so small that I was touching both sides of the wall with my back and stomach. Then all the sudden I reach my foot out for the next footing spot—and there is nothing there. I look down and there is a twenty-foot crevice. So now I am holding on to a rock on the side of the wall. I can’t move forward because there is someone in the way and can’t find a foothold behind me. So there I am, a person of very little upper body strength, hanging there twenty feet of nice rocks below me to be smashed upon. I really felt like Bear Grylls. It was thrilling. Finally the guy in front of me moves forward right as a start to slip, I slipped but kind of flung my body forward at the same time and landed on a foothold. We continued on in the cave and finally out of it and as cold as it was and although I was bleeding a bit and quite sore and bruised— I would totally do it again. Ideally, with another group of people, but still, a journey I would not mind embarking on again. Its not every day you almost fall into a crevice of death. It added a little more excitement to the week. It was definitely not something ordinary. I recommend it.

It happens to everyone...

5 things that have happened to me this week that I know everyone could probably relate to

1. awkwardly running into people at the grocery store

I personally find this hilarious for many reasons. For example, just this week I accompanied my sweet mom to Walmart. While perusing the toilet paper isle, we make eye contact with a friend of hers. It started with the wide eyed look at each other and a friendly hey, what are you doing here. Obvious answer. Shopping. And apparently for toilet paper. Then there are always a few awkward seconds of desperate brain racking on a conversation starter. I could see them both going through questions in their head.. Any recent illnesses? No. Any recent trips? Nada... then one of them found a perfect topic starter. Kids. They both have them, and Lord knows something is always going on in that department. So they begin to make small talk. All the while, other Walmart customers with shopping carts are trying to get through, or are pretending like they are looking at something else that they don’t really want while really wondering when the heck the chatty cathys' are going to move it on down the isle.

2. Being excited to go to sleep because you’re thinking about the coffee you will drink in the morning

At first I thought this might just be me, but then I had a discussion with a friend about it and she would be going to bed and get excited about the new creamer she bought. This could be a sign of addiction, but on the upside, every morning is like Christmas when you run to that coffee pot. And its nice being greeted by the Starbucks barista like you are an old friend. I spend so much time there--They should so be paying me for business by now.

3. Being a perfectly happy family… then getting in the car.

Somewhere between the driveway and the highway, something happens. Some invisible wave of short tempers sweeps in. In our family, this wave first hits the youngest child. Suddenly, the air is not blowing the right way—then the music becomes a source of argument--and if you happen to put your right pinky finger a little bit in the space of another, you’re a goner. I thought this might be an age thing. Surely as we get older this fades, but we recently left for a vacation and it found a way into our car. So beware. No matter what age or what size family, no car is safe.

4. Having a group of normally opinionated friends who magically become indecisive when the “where do we want to eat” question is asked.

Lets face it. We all have a place in mind. “No really, I could eat anywhere.” Well that’s crap. Nobody is that mellow. And you are hoping that no one mentions that place down the road that you aren’t too fond of, or the other place off that one street that they like to eat at all the time but you secretly hate. While these thoughts are running through your head, a place has been chosen and… bummer. It’s the place you didn’t want to go to. And if you had just spoken up you would have found out that only one person in the group of fifteen you are eating with wanted to go there. Nice.

5. When God uses irony to get a point across.

As if the whole world isn’t enough evidence of his creativity, he often uses some nice creative teaching methods. I think this has to be my favorite, because it makes me laugh every time. I have been through countless bank and passport/visa emails and phone calls and driving all over the place for letters and documents and at every turn there was a roadblock. Finally, after a week of running in circles, Saturday night comes and I have finally done the best I can to get everything done. I had spent the morning at the post office and the afternoon and evening at work. I sit in my bed and desperately want to sleep but have to plan children’s church for Sunday morning. I open up the lesson and it’s title is Don’t Give Up.

my week in pictures

coffeehouse encounters

Today started off a little later than usual.

I slept till eleven. Rested? yes. Waste of the morning? absolutely.

I spent last night in Kingwood visiting Liz Wilson while mom was hanging out with her book club, we stayed up late knitting, scrap booking, and talking about Africa. After Liz and I got up and got ready, we then proceeded to go to Starbucks. While driving there, Liz confessed to a coffee addiction. Like any good friend I was supportive and suggested a plan of action to overcome it (which obviously starts tomorrow because we were already halfway there).

I ran into a few people I used to know. It was neat having a few blasts from the past, but what caught my attention more than anything was the group of older men sitting to my right who, no lie, spent about forty-five minutes talking quite loudly about snake venom, and then the young business man sitting next to me making various calls on an earpiece. For a while I thought he was just talking to himself.

In between laughing to myself at strangers' conversations, I spent time reading and writing. Oh how the Lord has taught me so much. As I read in Jeremiah, he opened my eyes to the broken heart God has for his people that refuse to turn to him. Although he goes on to tell them that they will be punished, which is important, you see how he just longs for them to love him as they once did, "I remember the devotion of your youth how as a bride you loved me and followed me through the desert, through a land not sown." (Jer 2:2) It broke my heart, because I see the same story in the world around me, and even in my own life. I run away from him and towards emptiness all the time. More than anything though, the passages made me so thankful for the grace that covers me and so aware of the love God has for me.

After leaving Starbucks, I made the two hour trip back home and finished knitting. Unfortunately, my assumptions were correct, my intended scarf is more of a blob. I tried to get creative and think for a use for it, but before I could get past the potential idea of a shawl for the dog I pulled a string and unravelled the first three rows of stitches. My sweet sister made me a cup of tea as I mourned the loss of my first knitted... object.

So at this point i've had a cup of coffee and a cup of tea within the same afternoon, I got quite restless sitting at the house after this amount of caffeine, so of course I hit up our local Starbucks. I sat down and read some in Crazy Love, but mostly eavesdropped on two middle eastern men probably in their 40's sitting on the other side of the wall. One was quite loud and the other more soft spoken, the louder one was obviously heated about something. He spoke a little in english, but it was still hard to understand, and then when he got really heated he spoke in his language. I caught words like "family" "daughter" and "pakistan" amidst the jumble of speech but couldn't put much together. The only thing in my mind in that moment though, was wondering if he knew the Lord. I made the assumption that he did not. I could have been wrong but still, I thought about the craziness of me being less than ten feet away reading through the passages in Jeremiah for the second time that day and thanking God for his love and grace and he has no clue about any of it. I sat a while longer then gathered my things and left, still hearing him rant loudly as I walked out the door and into the rain. Yes, I left. No, I didn't feel God pushing me to interrupt their conversation and share Christ right then and there (because if he had been telling me to, I wouldn't be writing about it now because I'd be too embarrassed to tell you I didn't do it) but I do think there was something he was teaching me. I think he was teaching me to see differently. He has taught me so much today. I can't wait until tomorrow.

So now, it is quite late. I am still wired from that third cup of coffee. And I reek of coffee grounds. Hopefully tomorrows learning won't involve so much caffeine.

knitting needles and such

today i become a blogger.

I am currently all about trying new things.

or things I thought about starting but never quite got past the thought stage.

i realized that i never quite finish small projects i start or talk about starting, i bought knitting needles and yarn sometime in january and then they got lost in the abyss of my dorm room.

I found them unpacking and decided that I shall become a knitter.

my dreams and goals look something like this.

my current work, unfortunately, is taking more of a blob shape than a scarf.

But whether the end result be a blob converted into a nice hot pad for mom in the kitchen, or an actual scarf like intended, thats not the point. The point is that I will have completed it from start and finish. I'm tired of not following through with good ideas. So I'm changing my ways, one step at a time. This step just happens to involve yarn and patience.

I'll let you know how it goes.