The Last Day
Today is my last day working at the rec center. Woohoo! I can't wait to get started with all my teaching stuff, and I will be glad to be gone from the rec. Don't get me wrong: I like my co-workers and the members who come here, but it's time to move on now. I have worked here for so long, and it's definitely a good thing that I start something new. The CARC will somehow manage without me. No more washing dirty sweat towels; no more being a lifeguard (though that was a brief stint); no more program registration; no more cleaning grime off of exercise machines; no more daily settlements; no more swim lesson chaos. It will be nice to be free of so much redundancy.
You're the Winner!
This usually doesn't happen to me, but I won a random radio contest the other day. I was listening to ESPN Radio (as usual), and there was a contest to be the 10th caller to win a pair of tickets to the Snoop Dogg and 311 concert. Not that I really had much of a desire to go, but I called, anyway. I can normally never get through when I am trying to win something I actually want. But, as irony would have it, I hear on the other line: "Congratulations! You're the 10th caller!" Wow. I ended up giving the tickets to my older brother so he can go with his girlfriend, but it was still pretty cool to win them. The bonus was the three U2 CDs that accompanied the tickets. I am a huge U2 fan, so it all worked out pretty nicely.
Brett Favre
I have already said too much. I am getting pretty tired of hearing about all of it. He should have either stayed retired or never had that tear-jerking press conference in which he announced his retirement at the end of last season.
Ian Kinsler
I want to marry him. End of story.
Relaxation
I have had a little down time lately, and I am going to have a bit more before the new school year starts. I seriously love it. I think it's important every once in a while to soak up the beauty that is God's creation and do almost nothing. I have gone to the pool at my brother's old apartments a few times this week, and it has been so wonderful. There haven't been that many people there, so it has been relatively peaceful. I love just getting to sit in the water and not stress out or worry about things that really don't matter much in the long run, anyway. Yesterday started out with such ugly weather, but the Lord really made it into a marvel that I thoroughly enjoyed. Again, it's important to do this sometimes. After all, what's the point in living if you aren't really living?
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
That Was A Bit Weird
I attended a workshop in College Station this weekend, and it was quite an odd flashback to my past...one that I don't really care to remember all that much.
I went to Texas A&M University for a year and a half, and I hated it. People who go there are normally wrapped up in all of the traditions and cult-like practices. Not me. I wasn't even a "two percenter," as those not quite up to par in the school spirit department are labeled. I called myself more of a negative eight percenter or so. I couldn't stand any of it, and I was glad to escape the madness. I never went back there...until last Friday for this publications workshop.
Besides a few more additions of restaurants and shopping centers, not much has changed in Aggieland. They still bleed maroon down there. Even though this workshop had nothing to do with people wanting to attend the school, the Yell Leaders still opened up the workshop for us by teaching us various traditions and then having us partake in some yells with them. Needless to say, I chose not to partake. It felt way too much like I was taking a giant step back into a dark part of my past that I just want to erase.
The entire four days that I spent in College Station almost seemed surreal. I hadn't been there in so long, and a bunch of memories began flooding my mind at certain points throughout the workshop. Sure, I had some good times while I was there (it's always best to find the good in everything, right?), but the overall experience was just plain awful. I really never wanted to go back to the campus, and I don't think I will be returning there anytime soon. It's just too...too...weird.
The good thing about this workshop was that I had good company with me. It was for part of my new journalism teaching job, and I am glad I got to spend some time with my co-workers. We had some really good times, and those helped to overshadow the bad vibes I get every single time I am in Maroontown.
We all have had crummy experiences in life, and I guess that we eventually have to face them again on occasion—even if it involves surrounding yourself with Aggie crazies.
I went to Texas A&M University for a year and a half, and I hated it. People who go there are normally wrapped up in all of the traditions and cult-like practices. Not me. I wasn't even a "two percenter," as those not quite up to par in the school spirit department are labeled. I called myself more of a negative eight percenter or so. I couldn't stand any of it, and I was glad to escape the madness. I never went back there...until last Friday for this publications workshop.
Besides a few more additions of restaurants and shopping centers, not much has changed in Aggieland. They still bleed maroon down there. Even though this workshop had nothing to do with people wanting to attend the school, the Yell Leaders still opened up the workshop for us by teaching us various traditions and then having us partake in some yells with them. Needless to say, I chose not to partake. It felt way too much like I was taking a giant step back into a dark part of my past that I just want to erase.
The entire four days that I spent in College Station almost seemed surreal. I hadn't been there in so long, and a bunch of memories began flooding my mind at certain points throughout the workshop. Sure, I had some good times while I was there (it's always best to find the good in everything, right?), but the overall experience was just plain awful. I really never wanted to go back to the campus, and I don't think I will be returning there anytime soon. It's just too...too...weird.
The good thing about this workshop was that I had good company with me. It was for part of my new journalism teaching job, and I am glad I got to spend some time with my co-workers. We had some really good times, and those helped to overshadow the bad vibes I get every single time I am in Maroontown.
We all have had crummy experiences in life, and I guess that we eventually have to face them again on occasion—even if it involves surrounding yourself with Aggie crazies.
Saturday, July 19, 2008
The Hero Prevailed
"What do you want to be when you grow up?"
"My older brother."
For the longest time when I was a kid, this was my answer. Yes, I am a girl, so this was not exactly possible (not that it would be even if I were a boy, but that's beside the point), but I wanted to be exactly like him. He was my hero, and I followed him everywhere. My first word was "Dis," because I was trying to say Chris, which is his name.
When my brother, who is two years older than I am, started playing soccer, I wanted to be on the field, as well. True, the Gatorade at halftime was a huge incentive, but Chris also had a lot to do with it. Anyway, I also joined a tee ball team when he did. I wanted to play football, but I wasn't allowed. However, I always played the pick-up games in the street with my brother and his friends. Sure, he would complain and tell me I couldn't play and I should go home, but I never listened. I knew he would end up letting me play. And he always did. He even took up for me when other boys complained that a girl was playing.
I even took up golf so that I could be just like Chris. I was so impressed with how good he was at everything, and I strived to achieve what he had. I felt so special when both of us won the youth golf tournament in our city two summers in a row. I chose to neglect the fact that the only reason I won was because I was the only girl both times. That was not important. All that mattered was that I got the same place as my brother.
It wasn't until high school that I lost Chris as a hero. I had always told myself that he was too good to fall into the traps that so often take hold of teenagers. I was wrong, and slowly I no longer wanted to do the things my brother did. I didn't ask to tag along with him places, because I knew it could likely lead to trouble. He wouldn't have let me come, anyway. And there is no way he would have taken up for me.
I am glad I became my own person, but I was always sad that I had lost a hero. It was weird to see Chris as mortal. He did mature a little during his college years, and I even tagged along with him on occasion to play basketball with guys at the YMCA. Just like when we were kids, he would just say, "My sister is playing. She's on my team." Those words were always like music to my ears. And he let be an assistant coach to him for a YMCA youth basketball team. Together, we coached those kids all the way to the city championship.
When my brother officially moved out and started working in the "real world," he started losing touch with the family more and more. Sure, we still see him and talk to him quite a bit, but it's just not the same. He's doing his own thing now, and it's often hard to connect with him. I have called him a few times to do things at the spur of the moment, like play tennis or something, but I usually get rejected. He always tells me I need to ask him in advance for things. After all, he is a busy man and has a schedule.
Well, I asked him in plenty of time to attend a murder mystery dinner at my church in which I was an actress. He wavered back and forth and kept saying he wasn't completely sure. I finally told him he pretty much had no choice, and I would see him there. He's been dating this girl for a pretty decent time now, and I told him to bring her. It would be a fun date. Honestly, I was afraid he wasn't actually going to show up. For some reason it was really important to me that he be there, but I was a bit nervous that I was going to be left disappointed. I'm so glad I was wrong.
My brother actually came to the dinner! Before the show started, I kept walking over to the door and looking out the window to see if I could see him walking up. As the time to start got closer, I decided I should just give up. Then I saw his car pulling into the parking lot! It was such a great moment. I wasn't even thinking about the show; I couldn't have cared less in that instant whether or not I knew my lines (I did, so no worries there). All that mattered was that my big brother cared enough to do something that was really important to be. Yes, he still cared.
I may not look at my brother like he is a superhuman anymore, but he will always be my older brother. I may not want to be him, but I never want to lose him. Besides, he still has his hero moments every now and then.
"My older brother."
For the longest time when I was a kid, this was my answer. Yes, I am a girl, so this was not exactly possible (not that it would be even if I were a boy, but that's beside the point), but I wanted to be exactly like him. He was my hero, and I followed him everywhere. My first word was "Dis," because I was trying to say Chris, which is his name.
When my brother, who is two years older than I am, started playing soccer, I wanted to be on the field, as well. True, the Gatorade at halftime was a huge incentive, but Chris also had a lot to do with it. Anyway, I also joined a tee ball team when he did. I wanted to play football, but I wasn't allowed. However, I always played the pick-up games in the street with my brother and his friends. Sure, he would complain and tell me I couldn't play and I should go home, but I never listened. I knew he would end up letting me play. And he always did. He even took up for me when other boys complained that a girl was playing.
I even took up golf so that I could be just like Chris. I was so impressed with how good he was at everything, and I strived to achieve what he had. I felt so special when both of us won the youth golf tournament in our city two summers in a row. I chose to neglect the fact that the only reason I won was because I was the only girl both times. That was not important. All that mattered was that I got the same place as my brother.
It wasn't until high school that I lost Chris as a hero. I had always told myself that he was too good to fall into the traps that so often take hold of teenagers. I was wrong, and slowly I no longer wanted to do the things my brother did. I didn't ask to tag along with him places, because I knew it could likely lead to trouble. He wouldn't have let me come, anyway. And there is no way he would have taken up for me.
I am glad I became my own person, but I was always sad that I had lost a hero. It was weird to see Chris as mortal. He did mature a little during his college years, and I even tagged along with him on occasion to play basketball with guys at the YMCA. Just like when we were kids, he would just say, "My sister is playing. She's on my team." Those words were always like music to my ears. And he let be an assistant coach to him for a YMCA youth basketball team. Together, we coached those kids all the way to the city championship.
When my brother officially moved out and started working in the "real world," he started losing touch with the family more and more. Sure, we still see him and talk to him quite a bit, but it's just not the same. He's doing his own thing now, and it's often hard to connect with him. I have called him a few times to do things at the spur of the moment, like play tennis or something, but I usually get rejected. He always tells me I need to ask him in advance for things. After all, he is a busy man and has a schedule.
Well, I asked him in plenty of time to attend a murder mystery dinner at my church in which I was an actress. He wavered back and forth and kept saying he wasn't completely sure. I finally told him he pretty much had no choice, and I would see him there. He's been dating this girl for a pretty decent time now, and I told him to bring her. It would be a fun date. Honestly, I was afraid he wasn't actually going to show up. For some reason it was really important to me that he be there, but I was a bit nervous that I was going to be left disappointed. I'm so glad I was wrong.
My brother actually came to the dinner! Before the show started, I kept walking over to the door and looking out the window to see if I could see him walking up. As the time to start got closer, I decided I should just give up. Then I saw his car pulling into the parking lot! It was such a great moment. I wasn't even thinking about the show; I couldn't have cared less in that instant whether or not I knew my lines (I did, so no worries there). All that mattered was that my big brother cared enough to do something that was really important to be. Yes, he still cared.
I may not look at my brother like he is a superhuman anymore, but he will always be my older brother. I may not want to be him, but I never want to lose him. Besides, he still has his hero moments every now and then.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Welcome to the Whirlwind
Sometimes I feel like my life is a non-stop rollercoaster ride. I love the thrill, but I often get tired of the whiplash.
I definitely like to stay busy, but sometimes I get so busy that I get restless. It doesn't seem like it makes much sense, but it does. Trust me. Everything just starts spinning out of control, and I get so wrapped up in all the madness that I get bored with it. And I crave the mundane, though usually just briefly.
Sometimes I would prefer to do nothing but do nothing. Yes, for a few fleeting moments I would like to sit down and not have some task looming over my head. Those are the times when I just want to throw my planner out the window and not know what is on the agenda. Those are the times when I remember what it was like not to need a planner.
I am a huge fan of spontaneity, so I still see my fair share of things that were not planned. However, somewhere along the way, I had to purchase a planner to make sure I got everything accomplished. I think it started at some point in college when I was taking 18 hours and working more than one job.
Sure, I do occasionally have those lulls where I seem to be twiddling my thumbs all day, but those are rather rare nowadays. I don't even know when the exact transition happened from kid to grown-up, but I feel like it occurred way too quickly. Can't we go back to playing pick-up football in the street until it gets dark and Dad makes us come inside the house?
I guess not. After all, my older brother won't do anything that wasn't on his agenda. It's all about work and success for him. He still plays, but it's not the same. Now playing involves spending a lot of money at posh places and indulging in a bit too much luxury, if you ask me.
And my little sister is still trying to get through college and decide what she wants to do with the rest of her life. Plus, she was never a real big football fan, anyway.
It's possible that I am just tired of waking up at 3 or 4 something in the morning so I can be to work on time. At least I will be leaving at the end of the month and will start teaching in the upcoming one. I know it will be a task in itself, but it is definitely something to which I am looking forward.
I guess becoming so busy is just a part of life. But I still think it's really important to close the datebook every once in a while to do something you had never really intended. Or perhaps you did, even if subconsciously. But I doubt you wrote it in your planner. If so, it might read: Do nothing, and relax. It's time to make sure that one gets crossed off the list.
I definitely like to stay busy, but sometimes I get so busy that I get restless. It doesn't seem like it makes much sense, but it does. Trust me. Everything just starts spinning out of control, and I get so wrapped up in all the madness that I get bored with it. And I crave the mundane, though usually just briefly.
Sometimes I would prefer to do nothing but do nothing. Yes, for a few fleeting moments I would like to sit down and not have some task looming over my head. Those are the times when I just want to throw my planner out the window and not know what is on the agenda. Those are the times when I remember what it was like not to need a planner.
I am a huge fan of spontaneity, so I still see my fair share of things that were not planned. However, somewhere along the way, I had to purchase a planner to make sure I got everything accomplished. I think it started at some point in college when I was taking 18 hours and working more than one job.
Sure, I do occasionally have those lulls where I seem to be twiddling my thumbs all day, but those are rather rare nowadays. I don't even know when the exact transition happened from kid to grown-up, but I feel like it occurred way too quickly. Can't we go back to playing pick-up football in the street until it gets dark and Dad makes us come inside the house?
I guess not. After all, my older brother won't do anything that wasn't on his agenda. It's all about work and success for him. He still plays, but it's not the same. Now playing involves spending a lot of money at posh places and indulging in a bit too much luxury, if you ask me.
And my little sister is still trying to get through college and decide what she wants to do with the rest of her life. Plus, she was never a real big football fan, anyway.
It's possible that I am just tired of waking up at 3 or 4 something in the morning so I can be to work on time. At least I will be leaving at the end of the month and will start teaching in the upcoming one. I know it will be a task in itself, but it is definitely something to which I am looking forward.
I guess becoming so busy is just a part of life. But I still think it's really important to close the datebook every once in a while to do something you had never really intended. Or perhaps you did, even if subconsciously. But I doubt you wrote it in your planner. If so, it might read: Do nothing, and relax. It's time to make sure that one gets crossed off the list.
Monday, June 30, 2008
Ketchup and IKEA
I Put Ketchup on My Ketchup
Ketchup is awesome. I could eat it on anything, and I pretty much do just that. Yesterday, two of my friends (the great Wiese Duo) gave me one of the greatest shirts ever made. It says: "I put ketchup on my ketchup." This couldn't be more true. In fact, tonight I had broccoli cheese soup. It was pretty good, but I made it amazing when I added ketchup to it.
I don't think people appreciate a good helping of ketchup sometimes. They often give weird looks when they see the delectable condiment top off things like carrots, Caesar salads or apples. Where's the fun if you can't add a little (or a whole heck of a lot of) ketchup?
I once saw Miley Cyrus on Leno's show squirt ketchup into her mouth straight from the bottle. She didn't eat very much of it, and I think I could take her if we had a ketchup contest. Maybe I should start challenging people...
I remember this one time I went to a restaurant that didn't have ketchup (Who does that??), and I learned my lesson. Therefore, I always have a handy bottle in my purse, just in case. After all, you never know when you might hit up an establishment that lacks the tomato-based goodness (even if it was a Mexican restaurant...).
I think what I am trying to say is simply that I love ketchup.
IKEA-mania
I had never been to IKEA before today, and I am currently in the market for a bookcase. One of my friends suggested I go to IKEA; they would have cheap ones there. Actually, the prices were not as awful as I thought, and I found myself somewhat intrigued by this store. Usually I hate shopping, but this trip was a little bit fun. And I even found two bookcases that I like!
There were a few things about IKEA that left me in wonder. First of all, there is an escalator to take you upstairs, but there isn't one to take you back down. You either have to take the elevator or meander down the manual stairs. I'm not sure if this is a Swedish thing, but I did find it rather peculiar.
I must also take this moment to admit that I have never been to a furniture store that also had a cafeteria. I suppose some people spend so much time in IKEA that they need to take a lunch break before they go for round two. I mean, the menu is complete with pasta and whatnot. That is pretty hardcore. Is that some sort of Scandinavian tradition? Perhaps I should research more about this place.
I hope this bookcase thing works out. And next time I take a trip to IKEA, perhaps I will not eat lunch before I go. After all, I can eat it there! When at IKEA, do as the Swedes do, I suppose.
Ketchup is awesome. I could eat it on anything, and I pretty much do just that. Yesterday, two of my friends (the great Wiese Duo) gave me one of the greatest shirts ever made. It says: "I put ketchup on my ketchup." This couldn't be more true. In fact, tonight I had broccoli cheese soup. It was pretty good, but I made it amazing when I added ketchup to it.
I don't think people appreciate a good helping of ketchup sometimes. They often give weird looks when they see the delectable condiment top off things like carrots, Caesar salads or apples. Where's the fun if you can't add a little (or a whole heck of a lot of) ketchup?
I once saw Miley Cyrus on Leno's show squirt ketchup into her mouth straight from the bottle. She didn't eat very much of it, and I think I could take her if we had a ketchup contest. Maybe I should start challenging people...
I remember this one time I went to a restaurant that didn't have ketchup (Who does that??), and I learned my lesson. Therefore, I always have a handy bottle in my purse, just in case. After all, you never know when you might hit up an establishment that lacks the tomato-based goodness (even if it was a Mexican restaurant...).
I think what I am trying to say is simply that I love ketchup.
IKEA-mania
I had never been to IKEA before today, and I am currently in the market for a bookcase. One of my friends suggested I go to IKEA; they would have cheap ones there. Actually, the prices were not as awful as I thought, and I found myself somewhat intrigued by this store. Usually I hate shopping, but this trip was a little bit fun. And I even found two bookcases that I like!
There were a few things about IKEA that left me in wonder. First of all, there is an escalator to take you upstairs, but there isn't one to take you back down. You either have to take the elevator or meander down the manual stairs. I'm not sure if this is a Swedish thing, but I did find it rather peculiar.
I must also take this moment to admit that I have never been to a furniture store that also had a cafeteria. I suppose some people spend so much time in IKEA that they need to take a lunch break before they go for round two. I mean, the menu is complete with pasta and whatnot. That is pretty hardcore. Is that some sort of Scandinavian tradition? Perhaps I should research more about this place.
I hope this bookcase thing works out. And next time I take a trip to IKEA, perhaps I will not eat lunch before I go. After all, I can eat it there! When at IKEA, do as the Swedes do, I suppose.
Monday, June 23, 2008
The Incomplete Beach
I am at the beach right now, and the only thing missing is my family.
I came to Florida as a leader for the middle school beach camp trip at my church. Honestly, I am so thankful to get to be a part of this trip, and I am definitely having a good time. But, I really wish my family were here right now.
Over the past few years, I have become a lot closer with my parents, and I miss the trips we used to take to the beach when I was growing up. My little sister and I used to pretend like we were in a Baywatch scene, and we would run toward each other in slow motion. I'm not going to lie—it was pretty awesome. My mom always got the biggest kick out of it. We rode waves as a family; we played family tennis matches; and we always ate at specific restaurants on certain nights (my parents don't like change much).
I hadn't been to Florida (or any beach, for that matter) since the summer before my junior year in high school (I'm now 23 years old), and it's just so weird to back here without the rest of the clan. My brother sometimes brought a friend, so my sister and I were attached at the hip while my parents spent too many hours in the sun, and Chris and his buddy did whatever it was teenage boys do at the beach (so, basically, cruise the sand and try to impress chicks). Steph and I usually spent a few hours outside, then we took our reddened bodies back to the condo and vegged out watching a movie until the others got back. It was so relaxing and so much fun. And I didn't realize how much I would miss that.
All the clichés I have always heard are now coming true, and I really am starting to appreciate little things and life and value my family more than I ever thought I would. It's odd, but it's also extremely comforting at the exact same time. I love my family more than I imagined possible, and I wish they could be with me here now, basking in the Florida sun and just having some quality Merrill fun!
I came to Florida as a leader for the middle school beach camp trip at my church. Honestly, I am so thankful to get to be a part of this trip, and I am definitely having a good time. But, I really wish my family were here right now.
Over the past few years, I have become a lot closer with my parents, and I miss the trips we used to take to the beach when I was growing up. My little sister and I used to pretend like we were in a Baywatch scene, and we would run toward each other in slow motion. I'm not going to lie—it was pretty awesome. My mom always got the biggest kick out of it. We rode waves as a family; we played family tennis matches; and we always ate at specific restaurants on certain nights (my parents don't like change much).
I hadn't been to Florida (or any beach, for that matter) since the summer before my junior year in high school (I'm now 23 years old), and it's just so weird to back here without the rest of the clan. My brother sometimes brought a friend, so my sister and I were attached at the hip while my parents spent too many hours in the sun, and Chris and his buddy did whatever it was teenage boys do at the beach (so, basically, cruise the sand and try to impress chicks). Steph and I usually spent a few hours outside, then we took our reddened bodies back to the condo and vegged out watching a movie until the others got back. It was so relaxing and so much fun. And I didn't realize how much I would miss that.
All the clichés I have always heard are now coming true, and I really am starting to appreciate little things and life and value my family more than I ever thought I would. It's odd, but it's also extremely comforting at the exact same time. I love my family more than I imagined possible, and I wish they could be with me here now, basking in the Florida sun and just having some quality Merrill fun!
Monday, June 16, 2008
The Monday Mix
It's the Eye of the Tiger
I have to start off with mentioning just how incredible Tiger Woods is. Sure, Rocco put up a great fight and definitely impressed a lot of people, but he was defeated by the best golfer this world has ever seen. I mean, did anyone really think Tiger's putt wasn't going in the hole on Sunday to send this thing into a playoff? He handles pressure better than most athletes, and it's come to the point where most people expect him to pull off these amazing feats that keep making him seem inhuman. Props to Rocco for being the everyday guy to face off against the best, and props to the master for soldiering through his knee woes to make the crowds go crazy once again.
I know there are a number of people who would have liked for the underdog to capture the win, but I think an equal or even greater amount of fans were rooting for Tiger at the same time. Even he had to chuckle at some of his outrageous shots (i.e. finding the hole from a sand trap) that were ensuing results of some rather crummy tee-off shots. At least this might make less people claim that golf is nothing but a cause for boredom. I doubt there were many yawns during this tournament that only furthered Tiger's legacy as one of the greatest athletes ever to walk this continent (and the others, for that matter).
A Lovely Weekend
On a completely different note, I had such a fun weekend. Saturday, I spent the majority of my time soaking up the sun by the pool, which felt so amazing after a long week of work! Then, for Father's Day, my parents and I took our kayaks out to the lake and had a blast. My sister is working at a camp this summer, so she couldn't be there, and my brother just didn't make it out our way, but we still had a great time. It was beyond glorious outside, and the amount of wind was just perfect for us. We only have two kayaks, so my dad decided he would rather hike some while my mom and I went out in the water. He walked to some spot in a cove, and my mom knew just where he was going, so we paddled over there to meet him. While we were waiting, my mom and I just floated and basked in the sunshine beating down on us. It felt wonderful! And my dad had fun, which was good, seeing as how it was his day and all.
Compassion
We have been discussing Jonah in my Bible group at church for the past few weeks, and yesterday we really delved in on the topic of God's mercy on those who sin against Him (so, all humans, basically). Then we started talking about how we are called to have that same compassion, and Hitler and Osama Bin Laden were brought into the equation. The question was asked as to whether or not we are to love them, and I say without a doubt that we are. I know they did horrible things, but God's words are not on a conditional basis. The Bible doesn't say: "Love your enemies, except those who are considered notorious terrorists because of their inhumane actions." No, it says: "Love your enemies." No exceptions, no conditions. God first loved us, and we are called to do the same. It can be really, really hard at times, but we aren't the ones who get to decide who gets to receive love and who doesn't. After all, God's love is unconditional. If it weren't, we would be in a bigger mess than we can even imagine. But, thanks to His grace and mercy, we have hope, and we should extend that hope to everyone (including those considered the worst humans imaginable) with as much love and compassion as He showed us.
I have to start off with mentioning just how incredible Tiger Woods is. Sure, Rocco put up a great fight and definitely impressed a lot of people, but he was defeated by the best golfer this world has ever seen. I mean, did anyone really think Tiger's putt wasn't going in the hole on Sunday to send this thing into a playoff? He handles pressure better than most athletes, and it's come to the point where most people expect him to pull off these amazing feats that keep making him seem inhuman. Props to Rocco for being the everyday guy to face off against the best, and props to the master for soldiering through his knee woes to make the crowds go crazy once again.
I know there are a number of people who would have liked for the underdog to capture the win, but I think an equal or even greater amount of fans were rooting for Tiger at the same time. Even he had to chuckle at some of his outrageous shots (i.e. finding the hole from a sand trap) that were ensuing results of some rather crummy tee-off shots. At least this might make less people claim that golf is nothing but a cause for boredom. I doubt there were many yawns during this tournament that only furthered Tiger's legacy as one of the greatest athletes ever to walk this continent (and the others, for that matter).
A Lovely Weekend
On a completely different note, I had such a fun weekend. Saturday, I spent the majority of my time soaking up the sun by the pool, which felt so amazing after a long week of work! Then, for Father's Day, my parents and I took our kayaks out to the lake and had a blast. My sister is working at a camp this summer, so she couldn't be there, and my brother just didn't make it out our way, but we still had a great time. It was beyond glorious outside, and the amount of wind was just perfect for us. We only have two kayaks, so my dad decided he would rather hike some while my mom and I went out in the water. He walked to some spot in a cove, and my mom knew just where he was going, so we paddled over there to meet him. While we were waiting, my mom and I just floated and basked in the sunshine beating down on us. It felt wonderful! And my dad had fun, which was good, seeing as how it was his day and all.
Compassion
We have been discussing Jonah in my Bible group at church for the past few weeks, and yesterday we really delved in on the topic of God's mercy on those who sin against Him (so, all humans, basically). Then we started talking about how we are called to have that same compassion, and Hitler and Osama Bin Laden were brought into the equation. The question was asked as to whether or not we are to love them, and I say without a doubt that we are. I know they did horrible things, but God's words are not on a conditional basis. The Bible doesn't say: "Love your enemies, except those who are considered notorious terrorists because of their inhumane actions." No, it says: "Love your enemies." No exceptions, no conditions. God first loved us, and we are called to do the same. It can be really, really hard at times, but we aren't the ones who get to decide who gets to receive love and who doesn't. After all, God's love is unconditional. If it weren't, we would be in a bigger mess than we can even imagine. But, thanks to His grace and mercy, we have hope, and we should extend that hope to everyone (including those considered the worst humans imaginable) with as much love and compassion as He showed us.
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