It's not whether you win or lose... except when you lose.

I have been thinking about competition all day today. I wish I could start this whole thing off with a snazzy Bible verse about competition, but I have to admit that I don't know of any. In fact, I just Googled it. I think maybe I'm looking for a verse that says something like, "Thou shalt not care who wins or loses, as long as thou playeth the game." Okay, my Bible doesn't use words like "playeth"-- I got carried away there. Maybe that's the Shakespeare edition.

I did find 2 Timothy 2:5, which says "If anyone competes as an athlete, he does not receive the victor's crown unless he competes according to the rules." Never knew that verse was in there! And then there's 1 Corinthians 9:25, which in NIV says "Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown that will not last, but we do it to get a crown that will last forever." I actually like the English Standard Version translation of this verse better: "Every athlete exercises self-control in all things. They do it to receive a perishable wreath, but we an imperishable." These verses make me think of my sweet students, who are just SO competitive with each other! Recess activities are no longer the innocent games of Red Rover that we used to play; you'd think they were competing for the World Series in kickball or something. Perhaps it's time for a devotional centered around these verses.

Surprisingly, my personal issues with competitiveness really don't have anything to do with kickball. Somewhere deep inside me is this need to win everything. For example, I recently bought a purse at a silent auction, not because I really wanted it (although it's cute, and the money went to a good cause), but more because I saw the "I'm going to win" look in the eyes of the teenage girl who was trying to outbid me. Challenge accepted! There was no way I could let her bid more than me! I proudly strolled out of there with the purse on my arm, and it has sat unused in my closet ever since. Pretty sure the moral here is that I should not participate in silent auctions.

I'm not terribly competitive about sports. When I chose to go to college at a non-SEC school, I pretty much signed away my right to be a die-hard football fan here in the south. I'm able to laugh at my alma mater's 26-game losing streak (which, I must point out, was recently broken) and the fact that our mascot, while adorable and non-offensive to all demographics,  is a little goofy-looking. I'm a loyal fan, don't get me wrong, but I am able to accept the fact that we lose most of our games. Basketball season... well, that does tend to bring out the competitor in me. What my college lacks in football skills, they make up for on the basketball court. And since I grew up in Memphis and hold a Master's degree from the U of M, there's no question that I am a Tiger basketball fan. I can't quote stats (or players, really) but I can be competitive about basketball. I remember watching the Memphis/Tennessee game a couple years ago with a friend who was dressed head-to-toe in orange. I could barely talk to him by the time the game was over. I was chaperoning a youth retreat that weekend, and it took all the humility I had to pull myself together and be a good example for the students who were equally as disappointed (and mad at the UT fans) as I was.

Okay, I've managed to bring this back around to my students. How can I, the Queen of Competitive, set a good example for my students and teach them humility? I understand how frustrating it is to disagree about a bad call. Some days it's all I can do to not jump in and argue with them. How do I teach them to show respect by being patient with the student who doesn't know the rules, or by not shouting at their friend who thinks he was safe when he was clearly out? Sure, there's plenty in the Bible about the last being first, and laying down your life for your friends, and doing all things for the glory of God. But when you're six years old and that rubber ball is in your hands, and you're about to tag a kid out at home plate, you're not thinking about God.
Funny, sometimes the same thing happens when you're twenty-seven.

Seriously, people?!

Sometimes I really have a problem with other people. I would be the happiest driver in Memphis if I had the road all to myself. I actually stormed out of DSW on Saturday because all the other shoe shoppers were getting on my nerves. That's a huge deal; I never miss a chance to shop for shoes. And I passed up the opportunity to participate in Race for the Cure because, honestly, the thought of being in a group of 19,000 women just seemed unbearable. I can't stand large crowds. I think I just imagine that every crowd is made up solely of idiots, and I picture myself trying to fight my way through the throng of idiots and eventually being trampled. I know that's irrational. Many crowds are made up of very lovely people. It's just hard to remember that as I picture worst-case crowd-related scenarios.

Actually, as I sit here and ramble on, I keep thinking of additional places where other people get on my last ever-loving nerve. The movie theater. Wouldn't it be great to be the only person in the theater? No one would talk through the previews, or text, or kick my chair, or yell things at the screen, or let their kids run up and down the stairs.

Parking lots. I get SO annoyed with people who go the wrong way down the one-way parking lot aisles. Without fail, I see someone do this every time I go to Kroger.

Live theater. Holy cow, people today have no idea how to act at the theater! The LIVE theater, where real people are acting and deserve the audience's respect! They come in late, they unwrap candies, they talk and text on their phones. I went to a show at the Orpheum a few months ago and totally missed the first five minutes of the show because a group came in late and then there were people sitting in their seats in the row in front of me. No don't worry, folks, I didn't really need to see the opening number. And don't worry, usher talking loudly in the back, I didn't need to hear it either.

Okay I know I sound really whiny and unfriendly. I think I'm a friendly person (deep down). I just think there's some part of me that acts as an idiot-radar, or maybe an idiot-magnet, so that I instantly notice the most annoying things going on around me.

And thus, my reasons for wanting to be more peaceful with the people around me. Because if I don't change soon, I'm going to have to live in solitary confinement.

Slowing down. Way down.

I've been forced to slow down this week. And, as a warning, I am writing this while in a sinus-medicine-induced haze, so my thoughts are kind of everywhere. While I love the beauty of God's creation, I am sadly allergic to all of it. Animals, feathers, dust, mold, grass, pollen, trees... the list goes on. Way back when I was a good asthmatic with serious allergies, I dutifully took all my medicine and got weekly allergy shots. Now (big surprise) I can't seem to fit those weekly shots into my schedule, and I can't bear to shell out a $50 copay to go see the allergist, so I get by with taking the occasional Claritin and sometimes using my backup emergency Albuterol inhaler when cuddling with my puppies causes my breathing passages to close up. It could be worse.
But about twice a year, I am hit with a terrible, horrible sinus infection. And this week has been the Second Annual Sinus Infection of 2010. I could feel it coming when I woke up on Monday. Tuesday, of course, was impossibly busy. I have season tickets at the Orpheum, and Tuesday night I had big plans to go out to dinner and see Wicked, which is one of my favorite shows. By the time I got to dinner, I was so stuffed up that I couldn't taste anything. I think I had a really good chicken and pineapple sandwich at South of Beale. Everyone who tasted it said it was good. As Wicked went on, I continued to go downhill. By the end of the show, I had gone through a handful of cough drops and a purse-full of Kleenex, and I had a fever.
At this point, I just want to say that I'm proud of myself: before I went to bed that night, I made the decision that I wasn't going to work on Wednesday. I sent the necessary emails, took a big dose of whatever "may cause drowsiness" medicine I could find, and didn't even set the alarm clock. That is a big step for me. I hate missing a day of work, especially when I haven't planned for it. I feel like I have people and children who are counting on me to be there, and I don't want to let them down. The bigger issue here, though, is that I feel guilty missing a day, as if people are saying, "She's slacking off. How sick can she really be? The rest of us all come to work even when we don't feel great." I don't know if people actually say this-- I just imagine that they do. But honestly, I'm not doing myself or anyone else any favors by trying to "survive" at work on a day when I just need to be at home. I slept for twelve straight hours, went to the doctor, and (thanks to a sinus cocktail and four prescriptions) went back to work on Thursday feeling a million times better. I'm still not feeling great, but I know I feel better than I would have if I hadn't just taken a little time to slow down. It's Saturday afternoon right now, and I have had a restful weekend so far. I know my body needs it, so I'm trying to be good to myself and not push myself too hard. I want to be out there in the fall weather. I want to go on a walk, look for pretty trees, admire the Halloween decorations in the nearby neighborhoods. But not yet. Honestly, I've enjoyed having a few slow days. I may claim sinus trouble for a few more weeks, just to have an excuse to be slow about things!


On the subject of slowing down, a friend posted this on Facebook earlier this week:

"Speed damages our souls because living fast consumes every ounce of our energy. Speed has a deafening roar that drowns our the whispering voices of our souls and leaves Jesus as a diminishing speck in the rearview mirror." -Michael Yaconelli

 

It's like she knew I needed to read that! Thanks, A! I have thought about the effect that my rushing around has on God's presence in my life, and this quote just puts it perfectly. I am leaving Him behind. This is my favorite time of year, when the weather cools off and the trees change. I feel like some years I really soak up the season; I admire every changing tree, every falling leaf, and I see God's presence in nature. And then other years, I just get so wrapped up in myself that before I know it, fall has passed, the trees are bare, and I haven't praised God for letting me appreciate yet another brilliant autumn. Well, that's not going to happen this year. I am slowing down, I am looking at every tree, and I am looking for God's beauty during this, my favorite time of year. Those red trees on the side of the road may be diminishing specks in my rearview mirror, but God will not be!

Blessings!

I just wanted to take a minute and give thanks! I have felt incredibly blessed this week, and it has just been because of little things here and there. For example, the kindness of a stranger- I discovered yesterday that the guy at the Dunkn' Donuts drive-thru gave me extra punches on my card, which means free coffee on Monday! I know that's small, but it is nice to know that my efforts to be nice and friendly in the morning paid off. (I am so not a morning person. And this poor guy has to deal with me before I've even had a sip of coffee.)

I am just so thankful for my friends, my family, my job and colleagues... I love my life and I needed to take a moment to reflect on it and give thanks! God is so good!

Mid-week mania

I wrote this Wednesday night, but I haven’t had internet access to post it until now:

For the record, I love my job. I thank God every day that He has blessed me with an amazing school, a fabulous group of coworkers, and the cutest darn kids I’ve ever seen. There isn’t even a “but…” to this statement. I honestly love it. I don’t ever want it to sound like I’m complaining about work.

That being said, there are some days where I just go and go and go, and it wears me out. This is our first week back after fall break, and I was anticipating a pretty light week. I really should take a look at my plan book before I decide such things. Monday and Tuesday were fine; I’m housesitting, so there were a few extra responsibilities but nothing too bad. Then Wednesday hit…

Wednesdays are always my longest, busiest days, and I just really struggle with finding mid-week peace. Today I woke up at 5:45; I fed and watered the dogs and then rushed off to work for “early morning duty,” which I do every Wednesday. God bless my dear, dear friend who brought me a nice big cup of Starbucks. I can’t work the fancy coffeemaker over here, and I didn’t have time to grab coffee at a drive through. From there, I don’t think I sat down all day, except for sitting uncomfortably on the floor in my skirt as I led small groups. I know that’s normal for a teacher. (I’m not complaining, just explaining.) We have faculty meetings on Wednesdays, and this week was my turn to organize snacks for the meeting. I love Halloween, so our snacks absolutely had to have a Halloween theme. That meant that I spent my time between classes setting up tables, decorating, arranging fake spiders artistically across my orange tablecloths, baking chicken-cheese things, etc. Then I spent the beginning of our meeting rushing around, making sure trays were filled and everyone else’s snack contributions made it to the table. Then I sat through a very informative talk about ADHD where I pretty much solidified my suspicion that I do indeed have ADHD. (That really helps with the whole “trying to be peaceful” thing, trust me.) From there I sped to my parents’ house to drop off all the dishes I borrowed for my snacks (moms own SO many Halloween platters—it’s a scary mom thing), then I went out for a quick dinner with my mom, during which I ate fast and talked fast—the entire time—about my hectic day (I’m sure Mom loved that), and then I went to church choir practice. By that point, I had entirely drained my supply of attention and good behavior for the day (side note: I really think I’m allotted a certain amount of attention span each day. I used all mine up by about 3:00 today). I fidgeted, I whispered to my friends, I texted, I checked my watch a lot, I spaced out… occasionally I sang when I was supposed to. And now I’m home, vegging in front of the TV in my pajamas, and I still feel like I’m rushing. My mind just won’t stop.

My problem is that once I get going, I can’t slow down. Days like today, I’m just constantly thinking about the next thing. I rush through dinner so I can do what? Hurry up and go sit around at choir? And then I’m impatient during choir because I can’t wait to go sit around on the couch. Is this normal? Am I really living my life the way God wants me to when I’m not really living in the moment? I wish I could just focus on what I’m doing at the time, without being so anxious for what is coming next. And when the day is over, when it’s time to just slow down and enjoy a meal with family or time singing with friends or quiet time on my couch , I wish I could really s l o w  d o w n.

Luckily there’s another Wednesday coming up, so I can try this whole slowing down thing again.

Inside People

I wrote this Tuesday night, but I haven’t had internet access to post it until now:

For the record, I’ve been a little angry at nature lately. It’s October, it’s supposed to be fall, my favorite season, but instead we’re experiencing record high temperatures. Why am I surprised that the weather in Memphis isn’t cooperating with me? When has Memphis weather ever been agreeable or reliable? So, given my generally unhappy feeling toward everything outside right now (come on, leaves. Change already!), it was only fitting that I find myself in some outdoor-type situations today.

And the outdoors worked their magic, of course. I was feeling a little guilty about the handful of trail mix I ate earlier (by “handful” I mean enough trail mix to fit in the palm of Lou Ferrigno’s hand) so before I allowed myself to commit to dinner plans I decided I had to go for a walk. I’m housesitting right now, and I love walking through new neighborhoods and tracking my route on my handy iPhone app. I get bored with the same old walking paths, so I decided to venture into a zero-lot-line neighborhood nearby which I had always driven past but never explored. Those little houses are so quaint, all neatly lined up in rows with their tiny yards and impeccable landscaping. But they tend to look so… suburban. Stepford-esque, even. So when I noticed a little asphalt path leading out of the neighborhood, I took it, of course, and found myself in a park! It was just a random little path around a semi-dried-up pond, but beyond that was a really pretty view of the Wolf River. I stopped walking and climbed up a little sandy hill so I could really get a good view of the meandering river. The area was so peaceful and secluded. The only other person nearby was a boy circling around and around the pond on his bike.

That little boy on the bike got me thinking too, just about the effect that nature has on kids. Studies have shown (or so I’ve heard) that nature is calming to children. Take those kids who act up in a classroom, put them out in nature… and they’re so well behaved. I think I just assumed that those mischievous students are the ones who are most likely to get outside and start rubbing sticks together to make fire, or torturing ants under a magnifying glass, but that’s not true. They really show an appreciation for the outdoors. I went on a field trip today to the Botanic Gardens, and it was really great to see all those kids outside. They all behaved wonderfully. They were engaged in our activities, they were exploring and discovering nature, and it’s just really cute to see kids get so excited about looking for leaves and talking about seed pods.

I think that kids in general, and really just all people, don’t spend as much time outside as they used to. I know I sound like an old lady when I say this, but I remember playing outside all the time. We rode our bikes everywhere, we invented games, we swam, we climbed the magnolia tree… video games (and by that I mean my dad’s old Atari games) were a rare thing. They weren’t even really a luxury. Just something we would pull out from time to time once it got too dark to play outside. And just for the record, I’m 26, so those days weren’t too long ago. So now I’m an “indoor girl,” as someone called me. I’m not a huge lover of the outdoors. I don’t camp, for example. That doesn’t mean I don’t like to be outside; I’m just allergic to it all. And I’m terrified of spiders. But really, haven’t we all become indoor people? I don’t know any parents who let their kids run around outside unsupervised. And I really don’t know more than a handful of people who spend substantial amounts of time outside. And, speaking as an indoor person, that’s really unfortunate. I know I’m in the wrong here too, but where is there a better place to find peace than out there among all of God’s creation? I remember when I was younger, middle school or high school, I would ride my bike all the time. Whenever I got really mad or frustrated about something, I could hop on my bike and as I picked up speed I could just feel the frustration melting away. By the time I got to my destination, assuming I even had one, I couldn’t even remember why I was mad in the first place. My point here isn’t that I think I should ride my bike more. My frustration toward bikers is a topic for another day. I’m just saying that there’s something peaceful about being outside, being at one with the majesty of God’s creation (even if you are in the middle of suburbia), and that maybe I should remember that the next time I need to center myself.

Giving...

It's the time of year at church again where we make our annual giving pledges. I've been thinking a lot lately about the whole idea of giving, and the idea of tithing 10 percent, and since yesterday's sermon, I've been thinking about the concept of giving with a thankful heart and not out of obligation. Actually, I think that came from "a time for children" and not the sermon, but at least I was paying attention to something.

I don't really have any well-formed thoughts on the subject yet. It's just something that's currently weighing on my heart and that I'm praying about. I've always considered tithing something that Christians are sort of obligated to do. And honestly, I never feel particularly thankful or joyful as I put my money in the offering plate. But the idea of giving to the church, more specifically, giving ten percent, came from the early practice of giving the first ten percent of one's harvest as an offering to God. The first ten percent-- that's what gets me. How can I give the first ten percent and know that I have enough left over for myself? A selfish thought, yes, but I'm not the only person who thinks this. Isn't it easier to see what's left over at the end and then give what I can? Does that defeat the purpose of giving? It's still giving, after all.

I think this is where faith comes in, and this is where it gets hard for me. I've heard people say they give ten percent of their paycheck as soon as they're paid, and then they trust that it will work out in the end. And honestly, the thought of doing that is really stressing me out. How can I trust that the numbers will just work out in the end? If I do the math on paper and it's not adding up, is there some sort of "magic math" that happens as soon as my money hits the collection plate? I know I'm being called to give, and to do so with a joyful heart. And this is where my faith is being tested. This is where I need to keep thinking, and praying and reading so that I can be at peace about my giving. I'm sure I'll be writing about this for a while!