dreams

My Bracket’s Got a Hole In It

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Busted-Bracket

I recently checked my NCAA basketball tournament brackets– you know, the ones that were supposed to make me rich beyond my wildest dreams and completely irresistible to women?Yeah, that one– and was more than pleasantly surprised at one of them.

As it turns out, my Fox Sports bracket was doing better than 99.6% of all the brackets out there. If I believed in jinxes, which I do not, I would have thought that I jinxed myself. That was as good as it got for my bracket.

After that, my brackets went in a direction decidedly warm and southward in a handbasket. Three of my Final Four teams lost, including the team I had pegged to win it all. The team a LOT of people had marked to win it all– Michigan State. They lost. So did my runner-up, Michigan.

So, I won’t be rollin’ in a Rolls Royce or Maserati anytime soon. But I had fun filling out my brackets. And at least I got this far before my brackets busted. Unlike most of my efforts in the past.

For those of you who don’t follow sports, it means that the world didn’t end. I didn’t have any money to bet on these games, so I didn’t lose any. Not that I would EVER have bet money on sports, says the good Baptist boy.

Nothing will happen to me other than maybe me being knocked down a rung or two on the ol’ ladder of my sports pride.

I’ll be back next year, filling out as many brackets as humanly possible and basing all my picks on gut instinct and my sportly intuition. Which loosely translated looks a lot like eeny-meeny-miney-moe. . . .

I have no illusions about having a perfect bracket. I just hope my championship pick doesn’t lose in the first round.

 

Rainy Saturdays, Maltese Falcons, and Such

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Just a note before I begin in earnest: All those reports of my giving up the ghost after I wrote that blog entitled “A Prayer for the Weak” are highly exaggerated. I’m still alive and I’m still kicking (though only metaphorically). I haven’t given up. I was only trying to get into the head of someone who might have felt that way (which I have at times, though not now).

Now on with the show.

What do you do on a rainy and cold Spring Saturday? Watch old movies? Well, I did.

I chose The Maltese Falcon, one of the first and certainly one of the best of Hollywood’s film noir movies out of its golden age. I mean, you have Humphrey Bogart, Mary Astor, Peter Lorre, and Sydney Greenstreet and a gumshoe plot second to none.

I love the line Bogie delivers near the end of the film. When asked what he’s holding in his hands (the very falcon in question), he answers, “The stuff dreams are made of.”

What a great line. It reminds me of another, this one from the first Harry Potter movie: ” It does not do to dwell on dreams, Harry, and forget to live.”

Dreams are good. As the proverb says, without vision, the people perish. But dreams are only just dreams if you don’t do anything to make them realities.

Enough of that. I recommend The Maltese Falcon, especially when it comes on TCM with an introduction by host and old movie expert Robert Osbourne.

As always, I’m thankful for waking up this morning and having another day to celebrate the greatest gift of all– life. I’m thankful that (as a pastor once said and as I’ve quoted before) what seems impossible to me isn’t even remotely difficult to God. Making impossibilities into realities is God’s specialty, and He’s had plenty of practice at it.

Just keep that in mind and you’ll be fine.

I’m So Very Tired That I . . .

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I am tired. I mean more than “I slept until noon and now I need a frappucino from Starbucks” tired. I mean soul-weary and bone-tired. I figured out by my vast mathematical skills that by tomorrow’s end I will have worked almost 70 hours this week. That’s a lot.

I’m so very tired that I spent 20 minutes looking for my iPhone last Sunday. The very iPhone that was attached to my belt the whole time. I even called it a few times from the house phone. Sad.

I’m so very tired that not even my super-awesome concoction of coffee + hot chocolate + creamer seems to be working lately. I even almost miss those Diet Mountain Dews. Almost.

I’m so very tired that I fantasize about sleeping in. Just sleeping in, under the covers, alarm clock turned off. That’s all. And by sleeping in, I mean past 5 am.

I’m so very tired that even I am wondering what I’m doing typing this when I could be sleeping and dreaming and all those restful things. The sacrifices I make for my art. Sigh.

I’m so very tired I think I actually fell asleep twice on Wednesday in the middle of working, each time for about 15 seconds. I don’t think I dreamed that.

I’m so very thankful that my God never gets tired, never needs sleep, never grows weary of watching over His children or blessing them.

I’m so very thankful that there is never a moment when I’m out of His care, away from His gaze, or not in His heart. Not one.

Now I get to go to bed. I get to rest. God willing, I will get to wake up and go to a good job and live my blessed life for one more day.

Life is good, God is great, and I am still more blessed than I deserve.

Fire Bad, Tree Pretty, Me Sleepy

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After working 23 hours in two days and having two nights of sleep where I feel like I woke up every 30 minutes, I am bone tired. Like to the point where I’m not exactly functioning on a higher brain level. Mostly my brain tells me to go to bed.

I’m hoping for a better night of sleep than the last two nights. I had weird dreams and like I said earlier, I woke up like clockwork, not because I wanted to or because I was so worried about anything. I just did. Rude.

But I wanted to tell you before I do call it a night that I’m thankful for you reading this and all my other blogs. It really does mean a lot to me that you take time out of your crazy schedules and choose my posts out of all the posts in the world to read.

So thank you.

Fire bad, tree pretty, me go sleep now.

Another Day at McKay’s

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I spent the afternoon in one of my favorite places on earth. For those who are unaware of my recent history, that would be a tiny used bookstore in West Nashville called McKay’s. And for those of you unfamiliar with Nashville, I use the word “tiny” in the most non literal sense of the word possible. The place is HUGE. It’s ginormous.

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I traded in more movies and came home with a load of new treasures. And yes, I kept my salivating to a minimum. For a book/DVD/CD nerd, that’s not easy. It’s like walking into used heaven.

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I picked up seasons 1-3 of Absolutely Fabulous, the complete series of Twin Peaks, season 2 of The Walking Dead, and the first series of A Fine Romance. I added Billie Holiday. Led Zeppelin, Marvin Gaye, Bob Dylan, and The Beach Boys to my vast and varied music collection.

It was a very good day.

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As always, I went in looking for one thing and came out with another. Kinda like when you go to Target for toothpaste and walk out with 15 items (but no toothpaste).

I’ve learned life with God is like that. I think I need to be dating like yesterday. He thinks I need to learn to love being me and grow in grace a bit more. I want a big salary and lots of moolah. He wants me dependent on Him in every moment.

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I’ve learned (or am still learning to be more honest) that God’s ways are 100% better than mine 100% of the time. I think I want to much, but God sees my dreams and desires not as too big but as too small. Too limited and narrow and self-focused. God has a much bigger picture in mind, a much better dream, much grander desires for me.

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And I still have $1.33 left over in credit.

PS I had a scary moment in the parking lot. I got to my car and realized I had locked it with my keys inside. 😮 Then I just “happened” to remember that I had stuck a spare key in my pocket this morning without really thinking about it.

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I guess God had this afternoon in mind when He put that thought in my noggin. I definitely outsmarted myself again. One small heart attack and one call to AAA and one possible LONG wait averted.

Life is good, God is great, and I am still blessed.

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Broken and Shared

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A friend of mine wrote these words: “Unless grapes and grain are broken there will be no bread and wine. Unless the broken are shared there will be no communion.”

Elisabeth Elliot wrote, “If my life is broken when given to Jesus, it may be because pieces will feed a multitude when a loaf would satisfy only a little boy.”

Sometimes, in order for God to use me, I have to be broken before I can be shared.

No, I take that back. EVERY time God gets ready to use me He starts first by breaking me. Every single time.

I don’t mean every time I completely fall apart and lose every possession and wind up destitute. I mean usually a dream of mine dies. Or a friend lets me down. Or I find myself overwhelmed by life.

It’s the day to day stuff that I stumble over most often. The big crises find me more calm and trusting in God’s strength and provision. But the small details get to me.

Dying to self isn’t always as grand and dramatic as taking a bullet for someone you love. It means dying a thousand times in a thousand small ways every day. It means dying to self-rights, to pride, to vanity, to my own way of seeing and doing things. Those are the hard deaths.

If you are going through brokenness, take comfort in this. God will bless so many more with your broken life than He could with your perfect life. Everything you’ve lost, God will restore a thousand fold, in the lives of a thousand people who find the hope of God’s provision in your story of ruin and redemption.

I still don’t like pain. I don’t like discomfort or inconvenience. I get impatient in front of the microwave, for crying out loud.

But I trust God’s leading. I trust His heart more than my own feelings, my own perceived need for comfort and safety and calm. Trusting that the bridge built with planks of thanksgiving and joy will hold up until I get all the way Home.

Theology from a BBC Sitcom

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I’ve discovered a great new (to me) BBC sitcom called Miranda. It’s about a very tall and very awkward English woman named– wait for it— Miranda, played by –again, wait for it– Miranda Hart.

The whole concept of the show is Miranda being socially awkward, clumsy, and hapless in just about every situation. Something none of you can relate to, I’m sure.

Maybe you find your self talking to someone you’re romantically interested in and you find the most bizarre things coming out of your mouth. Your mind is thinking, “What in the world?” but is completely helpless to stop your mouth from talking.

No one? Then how about this one, sports fans?

I’m not a woman. Big shocker.

And I’m not 6’1″. At least everywhere except in my own happy little world.

But I’ve had my share of socially awkward moments, of trying way too hard to be friendly, of being both obsessive and compulsive with certain relationships, and of not being “normal.”

But I’ve come to the place where I wouldn’t trade places with anyone. I’m having way too much fun being me. I’ve finally caught a glimpse of God’s heart for me and His dream for me and how He made me like no one else.

Not everyone will get you. That doesn’t make you inferior or less worthy. Trust me, God will bring people into your life who will more than just get you. They will embrace you and celebrate you and champion you. They will make you feel like a superhero on days when you can’t even button your shirt up right.

Remember that God Himself more than gets you. He made you. He designed you just the way you are to be like no one else and play a part in His ongoing Story that absolutely no one else could possibly fill.

I’ve seen 5 episodes so far and I love it. I also love the way my family and friends love me. I adore how God adores and celebrates and rejoices in and dances over and shouts over me.

I call that a very good reminder for this All Saints Day.

That Great Pumpkin and Faith

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Every year around this time, Linus Van Pelt takes his favorite blanket and heads out to the pumpkin patch, eagerly awaiting the arrival of the Great Pumpkin. For those unversed in the lore of all things Charlie Brown, the Great Pumpkin rises out of the pumpkin patch and showers gifts upon those faithfully awaiting and believing in said pumpkin.

Every year, Linus waits and every year Linus goes away disappointed. But you know the next year he’ll be back.

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Charlie Brown goes trick-or-treating every year and every year he ends up with a bag of rocks. And on a side note, who gives rocks to kids on Halloween? I mean, really?

But you know full well that Charlie Brown will be back at it next year with hopes set high on candy corn or Snickers. Something besides rocks.

Don’t you feel the same way?

You’re 30-something and still single, yet you keep showing up at God’s door asking for a spouse.

Your prodigal child hasn’t come home in years yet you keep pleading to God to find him and bring him home.

A relationship has gone south and you feel like there’s no way it can ever be mended, but yet you pray for the person one more time.

You feel like you will never break free of your addiction or your stronghold, yet you keep asking and believing for a day of freedom.

I’m reminded of a character almost as foolish as those Peanuts folks.

This widow kept badgering the unjust judge in Luke 18. She probably shouldn’t have even been bothering him, as it was customary for people to wait until their appointed court date to appeal. But she was desperate to get her wrong made right. She kept pestering that judge after being told “No!” at least a thousand times.

She simply would not give up.

That’s my takeaway for this Halloween night: don’t ever give up on your dream. Don’t quit on your goal. Don’t stop believing (as that old theologian Steve Perry used to sing).

Persistence in prayer always pays off. I’m not saying everyone gets everything they ask for if they say the magic words and believe hard enough. I am saying that God will change you in the process. He might not give you what you ask for, but what you end up with will always be a thousand times better.

Who knows? Maybe you’ll find me out in a pumpkin patch one fine Halloween night.

 

Is God Fluffy? Questions I’ve Never Thought About Until Now

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I sat in on a very interesting conversation with some friends and a man who’s name I have unfortunately forgotten. It was surreal and made my brain hurt a bit.

The guy said that God called him on a quest. Immediately, I thought something along the lines of “They should make pills for this.” The cheese had obviously slid off of this guy’s cracker.

He said that sometimes He calls God “Master Fluffy.” That one had me scratching me head. Master Fluffy? Really?

I’m just being honest. Keeping it real, as the kids nowadays put it.

Then again, I remembered some things.

Aren’t I taking meds, too? How would I think and behave if I’d been through west this guy has been through (or even half). My cheese might be completely AWOL from my cracker.

And doesn’t God speak of protecting us underneath His wings? Doesn’t He know when the lowliest sparrow falls from the sky? Doesn’t He delight in all His children, including the ones with broken minds and broken hearts?

Most of all, didn’t God put on human skin and come to pitch His tent among us? To laugh and weep with us? To experience every bit of what we face, except without sin?

I can’t help feeling sometimes that the most “normal” of us don’t get God half as much as the ones who don’t always act and speak normally. The ones who need pills to make their minds work right. The ones who felt ugly and stupid and fat and unloveable until they understood how large a space God has reserved in His heart just for them?

To get into God’s Kingdom, you have to be like a little child. I know it means you have to come acknowledging that you are helpless without God.

I like to think it also means you need to see the world through the eyes of a child, with eyes that cling to dreams, look for fairies and pixie dust, find miracles around every corner, and never give up hoping that joy will win in the end.

Celebrate not that you are normal, but that you are unique. Celebrate that there is and will never again be anything in the world quite like you. Find joy in being “heaven’s poetry etched in lives” (Ephesians 2:10).

Then you will start out discovering Eucharisteo, finding joy and thanksgiving and grace in everything, and living your miracle.

Take it from one unique and blessed Ragamuffin.

Letting The Door Close for Good

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I have a picture on my iPhone. It’s me with a friend at Centennial Park, under a picture-perfect summer night sky. I have my arm around her and we’re both smiling. We have just been swing dancing and having a grand time. We look like such good friends.

I had that picture. Up until tonight. I deleted it. I let that proverbial door close. You know. The one almost closed but barely held open by one of those rubbery door stop thingys? The one that once it’s closed you can never re-open?

It’s now closed. I believe her chapter in my life is over. I prayed my goodbyes and grieved over the friendship’s end. My next steps are moving on.

It’s not like she’s a bad person or even that the friendship was wrong. But I think sometimes you have to let go of something that was good– or even very good– in the past to be able to receive God’s future best.

Sometimes you have to say goodbye to your dream in order that God can dream a bigger and better dream in and for you.

So I’m letting a few things — and a few people– go. I hold no bitterness and no more regrets. I cherish the memories but realize that I must move on as they have already moved on.

I can’t wait to see what God has in store for me in the coming weeks and months, but I know it will be good. I love the imagery in this quote from a book I’m currently reading:

““So here’s my thought: Your best thought on your best day falls 15.5 billion light-years short of how great and how good God really is. Even the most brilliant among us underestimate God by 15.5 billion light-years. God is able to do 15.5 billion light-years beyond what you can ask or imagine” (Mark Batterson, The Circle Maker).