[SMACK!!!] Hmm? Huh? What? Oh? I missed it?

A couple of months ago, David and I were lucky enough to get to catch a Seattle Mariners game ... live ... in person ... IN Seattle. It was a great night. The weather was mild and the food was greasy. Perfect.

Believe it or not, this was actually my first Major League game. I really do like baseball - really I do - just have never had the good fortune of attending a game. I enjoyed the whole experience. Soaked it all up. (My husband says I was a natural.)

We were with a group of David's co-workers. At one point, the sweet wife (Alyssa) of one of David's co-workers (Travis) said, "Hey. Guys. Look this way" and asked us to pose for a quick picture.

The second we smiled and said "cheese" we heard a loud SMACK in the background. Yep. There it was. My first Major League home run and I missed it. :-(

That's okay. Makes me smile when I look at the picture. I'll always be able to hear the sound of the bat in the background.

Fun....

THE OTHER GUY'S FACE

Today, while my iPod was in shuffle mode, I heard a song that I’ve not taken the time to listen to in ages. It’s a mellow but driving song by Chris Rice called The Face of Christ. The lyrics are haunting & really make you sit up and take notice.

A few years ago, we had a very memorable service at our church. The sermon itself was good but the most powerful part of the service actually took place well before the pastor stepped on to the stage. With the assistance of a couple of women in the church, our pastor disguised himself as what can only be described as an indigent bum. Frankly, he looked horrible and was totally unrecognizable. His hair was long, ratty and dirty. His clothes were tattered. He looked as if he hadn’t showered in weeks. He even sported an unkempt beard.

The catch? None of us knew that it was our pastor. He didn’t tell anyone! As a matter of fact, David and I were leading worship that particular Sunday and I remember panicking a little bit as I looked down into the audience. Why wasn’t Hub in his normal seat? Doesn’t he know it’s almost time to preach?!

While in his disguise, he made sure that he was visible as people arrived in our parking lot that Sunday. Despite a horribly rainy day, he wandered the parking lot while pushing a shopping cart. I’m certain that most people hurried past him in order to get out of the rain.

As the service started, David and I sang the Chris Rice song that I heard this morning. It said:


He shares a room outside with a dozen other guys
And the only roof he knows is that sometimes starry sky
A tattered sleeping bag on a concrete slab is his bed
And it’s too cold to talk tonight
So I just sit with him instead and think

How did I find myself in a better place
I can’t look down on the frown on the other guy’s face
‘Cause when I stoop down low, look him square in the eye
I get a funny feeling, I just might be dealing
With the face of Christ

After sixteen years in a cold, gray prison yard
Somehow his heart is soft, but keeping simple faith is hard
He lays his Bible open on the table next to me
And as I hear his humble prayer
I feel his longing to be free someday

How did I find myself in a better place
I can’t look down on the frown on the other guy’s face
‘Cause when I stoop down low, look him square in the eye
I get a funny feeling, I just might be dealing
With the face of Christ

See you had no choice which day you would be born
Or the color of your skin, or what planet you’d be on
Would your mind be strong, would your eyes be blue or brown
Whether daddy would be rich, or if momma stuck around at all

So if you find yourself in a better place
You can’t look down on the frown on the other guy’s face
You gotta stoop down low, look him square in the eye
And get a funny feeling, ‘cause you might be dealing ...


During the song, it was actually a little distracting as one of the ushers brought the homeless guy down front to be seated on the second row. It’s possible that women around him may have actually clutched their purses. When we stepped off stage, our bass player even said, “Man! Did you see that dude they just brought in?! He was lookin’ ROUGH!”

The next thing we knew, our pastor Hub (aka homeless guy) stepped up on to the stage. It was quite a moment when he first opened his mouth and we realized who it was. We knew that we had been “had.” I can’t recall every point that he made that day. I DO remember the lesson that it seared into my brain, though.

We were all forced to examine (in a very vivid way!) how we automatically make assumptions about others … how we look down on them. Sadly, it’s human nature.

This morning, as I listened to the song, I starting clicking off a list in my brain. Why me? Why did I have the good fortune of being born into the family that I was born into? Why was I afforded a good education? Why was I allowed to see many parts of the world? Why did God bless me with good health and a strong mind?

Some may call it luck. Some may call it good fortune. We, as Christians, can even throw around the over-used word “blessed.” Regardless, one thing I’m certain of -- I absolutely did nothing to deserve my life!

This morning, as I took time to pull weeds in my yard, I even found myself being grateful for the weeds. Isn’t that odd?!!! I kept thinking, “Wow. These weeds are in MY yard. The yard that’s attached to the home that I own. How many people wish that they owned a home.”

The song was just a good reminder. How DID I find myself in this place?! I hope I’ll be strong enough, compassionate enough to “stoop down low” and look the “other guy” square in the eye before making judgment calls. God has blessed me … I don’t want to take ANY of it for granted. Why me?

HAVE YOU BEEN TO SPARTANBURG LATELY?

I've always enjoyed watching beauty pageants. Go ahead. Judge me if you will BUT I admit it ... "My name is L and I'm a beauty pageant-holic." Sure, when I was little, I had dreams of wearing the Miss America crown. I was equally as drawn to that regal velvet cape and ominous scepter. (I usually had to settle for a beach towel tied around my neck and a five-and-dime baton firmly placed in both hands.)

In recent years, I've probably become a little more jaded and, quite frankly, my opinion of pageants may have changed a bit. However, I still enjoy watching them -- now, I simply watch them for the entertainment value. I'm content to piously sit on my couch, while munching popcorn and chocolate chip cookies, and make fun of the skinny, pretty chicks. ;-) (Horrible, I realize.)

Annnnnyway ... last year, about this time, I was in the gym, minding my business, working out. I was at the end of a 30-minute cardio session and, well, I wasn't looking my freshest. Due to the July heat and my elevated heart rate, my rosy cheeks and glistening forehead were in full effect. My once perky ponytail had become wilted, skewed and lifeless. I had paid my dues, done my penance -- I was ready to go home!!

A camera crew entered the gym. The "official looking leader" of the crew (I assumed he was official because he was carrying a clipboard ... duh.) took a look around the gym & immediately walked over to the treadmills. He asked if anyone would be willing to let him get a little footage of their feet walking on the treadmill. Hmmmm. Seems harmless enough. "Sure. No problem" I agreed. (I'm proud of my pink tennis shoes! How often do you get to show them off?!)

Mr. Leader theeeeen asked if he could get a shot of my actual face while I walked on the treadmill. I reluctantly agreed and before you could say "clogged arteries" I was asked to sign a release form. I signed -- all the while never stopping the treadmill! ;-)

After getting a few seconds of footage, Mr. Leader then asked if I'd be willing to say something on camera. What?! You've gotta be kidding? Well, um, okay. Next thing I knew, I was being rigged up with a mic. It was then that Mr. Leader asked me to enthusiastically pump my arms and say (with glee and conviction) "Have YOU been to Spartanburg LATELY?" I followed his directions and, after about three takes, we had it.

As soon as I got into my car, I called David and excitedly exclaimed, "Hey, listen. I'm going to Hollywood!" I recounted the experience to him. Naturally, his first logical question was, "So, what exactly was this for?" (Hmmm. What a good question.) I had to sheepishly admit that I had no idea! ;-) Now, I realize that similar scenarios happen in seedy Hollywood everyday and young girls often find themselves in quite a bind as a result. However, I suppose that when I saw the local TV station's logo in the top corner of the release form, I assumed it was for some sort of promotion -- you know, one that no one would see.

Two days later, as I was home alone on a summer, Saturday night, watching the oh-so-entertaining Miss South Carolina Pageant ... THERE it was! Myyyyy commercial. My big ole face, in all of its close up glory, beaming with that chipper expression. "Have YOU been to Spartanburg LATELY?" Ugh. My heart sunk. Oh well. Maybe no one saw it!

No such luck.

I had numerous comments from family and friends over the next few days. "I saw you on the Miss SC Pageant the other night! Barely recognized you!" (I'm assuming this is because I make it a habit of never going out in public while sweating profusely.)

I waited for the talent scouts to call. Alas, it was not meant to be. :-(

Last week, David and I sat down to watch this year's pageant. (Sure, it took a little convincing to talk him into watching with me. However, he quickly saw that making snarky comments really could be a sport!)He graciously endured the experience.

Then ... there it was ... again ... catching me off guard. My close up shot! "Have YOU been to Spartanburg LATELY?" David said what ANY wise husband should say, "You've lost weight." (I love him.)

The moral of this story? Girls, always get a little more information before you allow yourself to be filmed by a stranger. These, I'm quite certain, are words to live by.

WHAT I'M READING/LISTENING TO THESE DAYS

AY, CUBA!
by Andrei Codrescu
(I actually do find it kinda ironic that it's a book about Cuba written by a man from Romania!)
Not sure why, but I've always had a fascination with Cuba. LOVES me some Hemingway and mojitos! ;-)




INSTANCES OF THE NUMBER 3
by Salley Vickers
Must admit, I have no clue what this one's about. Just started it. Seems to be the kinda summer romance novel that you'd enjoy on the beach, while on vacation. Sigh. Well, since I'm not actually ONNNNN the beach, I may stick my feet in a bucket of salt water, turn on my sound machine and try to imagine I'm in the tropics. It's not a Harlequin and it doesn't have a pic of Fabio on the cover...still looks like a guilty pleasure, none the less.



CATCHING TALES
by Jamie Cullum

Adore this guy! Saw him in concert in ATL a couple of weeks ago & he blew us away! He's an energetic, young (26 years old!) guy from Britain. He plays jazz and standards with a modern, hip hop flavor. Very talented. His music energizes me and soothes me at the same time. (Okay, the real reason I like him? I'm pretty sure that he's one of the few adults in the world that I'm actually taller than.) ;-)

TO BLOG OR NOT TO BLOG????

I have been debating for months! Different friends have encouraged me to start my own blog. Well . . . now is the time!

I read several blogs each day. I think it's a great way to keep up with happenings (either that or I'm just plain nosy). I'm not a particularly great writer (I DO have the gift of gab though - or so I've been told). I don't have fabulous tidbits of wisdom to share with the world. My life's not particularly glamorous or exciting. However, I must admit, if anything odd, unusual or comical is gonna happen . . . it's gonna happen to me! Seems like I can't merely cross the street without some kind of drama or incident occurring. ;-)

I also e-mail numerous friends each day. LOVE to stay in touch. I don't usually have earth-shattering news to share . . . just enjoy reaching out and touchin' someone!

In recent years, I've become more and more transparent. What you see is what you get - I suppose my blog will be no different. Here goes. I'm an open book........