A Beautiful Mess

This morning during praise and worship my husband led the wildly popular worship song "How He Loves Us". I have to admit something . . . it's never been my favorite song. But it's grown on me, and it really does have a great message. It's just that the original version of the song uses the words "sloppy wet kiss", and that has always irked me. It somehow seems improper and inappropriate and uncouth. The song has been redone using the words "unforeseen kiss" to replace the "sloppy wet kiss" line. We typically sing the redone version. It makes me feel better. I approve.

But this morning, Patrick, in the the heat of the moment, in the passion of praise and worship sang the words "sloppy wet kiss". I could immediately, in the heat of the moment, in the passion of praise and worship feel the annoyance rising up inside of me. "Doesn't he know how improper that is? How dare he use such terminology in church? It sounds so messy! So tacky! So emotional . . . " And in that moment, in the midst of my little self imposed tirade (which I fully intended to later impose on my husband), God stopped me, and what came to mind . . . well, I can tell you this much, it wasn't me. Because I don't think this way. Not for a moment.

He (He referring to God) told me that He isn't proper and appropriate by this world's standards or by my standards for that matter . . . not even close. He is the God that dined with tax collectors, that healed on the Sabbath, that hung out with sinners. He's isn't here to fit into my perfect, appropriate, and neat little compartments. When He gets involved, things get messy. It's not a lack of excellence, and it's not wrong. As a matter of a fact, it's just the opposite. When He gets in the middle of my perfectly organized, self-control driven, OCD, type A life and personality, that by all outward appearances seems to be "just right", He turns it upside down. He messes it all up. And those perfect little compartments? They don't seem so perfect anymore. It's not about perfectionism by the world's standards or even the church's standards. It's about true unconditional love by God's standards.


I'm beginning to see it for what it is . . . this need to control everything. Me trying to keep all the balls in the air . . . to juggle everything just right. 

But what if I let those balls fall? What if I let God dump all those compartments on the floor? What then? Maybe that's when I find out that I never really had control but just an illusion of control . . . that my need to keep everything in perfect order is a poor substitute for the truth . . . that only God can keep things in perfect order. Maybe that's where I find out that I don't really want control at all. Maybe that's were I find His love. Maybe it really is "where Heaven meets Earth like a sloppy wet kiss". Maybe God will "mess" up my perfect little life, but what a beautiful mess it will be.

Friday and Saturday Happenings

I'm watching the Olympics and blogging. If you need me during the next two weeks, you'll find me parked in front of the television watching whatever Olympic sport happens to be on at the moment.

Did y'all watch the Opening Ceremonies last night? I. Loved. It. I liked it a lot more than Beijing's. I know. It wasn't as over the top as Beijing. And it didn't hold the same jaw dropping spectacular-ness, but it was much more relate-able. The cultural and historical references made the show great. Maybe it's because so much of our American culture, while vastly different than Great Britain's, is wrapped up in the history of Great Britain. Maybe it's because the influence of British literature on our own is undeniable. But in the end, it was beautifully done and lighthearted. The music was fabulous . . . Sir Paul McCartney singing "Hey Jude" was priceless. It was fun. It was everything an opening to an Olympics should be.

My only complaint was that NBC only gave Bulgaria about 1/2 a second of air time. Clearly they don't understand that our daughter currently resides there. So when we're not cheering for the U.S.A. we may give a shout out to our second favorite country.

Okay, enough gushing about the Olympics.

This was Andrew's last week at summer gymnastics. He's going to play soccer so we'll stop for a while. But he loved gymnastics this summer. His coordination is really improving.

He's been big on the 'ole thumbs-up here lately.

In the air, in motion.

Since Andrew is currently obsessed with all things dinosaur, we took him to the Natural Science Center at UT yesterday. It was a hit. He was definitely impressed with the dinosaur fossils.

After the museum we ate at Hut's Hamburgers downtown. Patrick likes to eat there. I think it's so-so. You have to ask to have your burger well-done, and I always think they judge me for ordering my burger well-done. But seriously, who wants Ecoli? I know most people don't even think about it. Google it people! Google it . . .

After we ate we did a little furniture window shopping. My sofa is around six years old and looking a little worn out, but I'm not sure I want a new one yet. Maybe I should wait until my kids are older so I don't spend half my life flipping out. How long do normal people keep their sofas?

The Smoky Mountains . . . Take Two (Days 5-8)

I'm wrapping it up, and it's not as long as it seems . . . I promise!

On Tuesday morning we decided to "hike" to Laurel Falls. I use the word hike loosely because it's paved so it was more like a slightly challenging walk. But I guess to Andrew it was more of a hike since it's pretty steep going up. I think the whole thing was 2.3 miles round trip, and it was so worth it. Laurel Falls is beautiful, but if you ever go, go early. As we were coming down it was getting pretty crowded. And as a sidenote: Why don't people wear deodorant? I mean if I can smell you just in passing . . . why?!?

Tuesday afternoon we did Cades Cove. Cades Cove was a "community" in the park prior to it becoming a national park. I love history so I found it fascinating. The residents were bought out in the early 1900s, and most of them moved off relatively quickly. Cades Cove is super pretty and peaceful, and I would live there in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, they frown on people taking up residence in the park. We were lucky enough to see a couple bears (and a deer, but we see those everyday) while we were there.

Those views are to die for. Can you imagine waking every morning to such amazing views? 

Oh my word! A real bear. Not in the zoo, but in the wild. And then the idiots behind us decided to try to approach it calling, "Here little bear." Really?!? It's a bear people. Not a puppy. It ran off.

The Methodist Church

The Methodist Cemetery . . . almost half the graves were those of infants and children. It really brings into focus how thankful we should be for modern medicine.

Wednesday morning when we woke up Andrew said, "Something's wrong with my bottom. It hurts!" Turns out he was sore. Hahaha! My dad said we literally walked his hind end off. Oops.

We went into Gatlinburg and ate breakfast at the Mountain Lodge Restaurant which is just a little cafe outside of all the hustle and bustle. It was amazing. They had these cinnamon rolls that were out of this world. Anyone else notice my obsession with baked goods?

After breakfast, Andrew requested that we "not go hiking", and the weather was pretty "iffy" so we ended up driving the Roaring Fork Motor Trail. It was a nice meandering drive.

An elderly gentlemen offered to take our picture, and well, he couldn't work my camera to save his life. And you'll notice that my child has no shoes on. Classy.

It stormed all Wednesday afternoon so we drove to Pigeon Forge. Not my choice. We ended up eating and leaving. We spent the rest of the afternoon at the hotel. I sat on the back porch (veranda? deck?) and read. It was nice.

On Thursday morning we were up early and on the road. We planned to drive to Arkadelphia, and it was supposed to take ten and a half hours. 

We swung through Nashville and saw the Parthenon replica.

Patrick also took a detour in Memphis so we could drive past Graceland. Maybe, I'm wrong, but it seemed to be in a somewhat questionable part of town. Like I said I could be completely wrong, but we don't have any pictures so just take my word for it.

We got stuck on I-40 outside of Little Rock. They were doing construction. There was a bad wreck. They closed the interstate. It took us three hours to go ten miles. Andrew kept bursting into tears. I felt like bursting into tears. There was no way to get off the interstate or turn around. Those exits seem really close together unless your stuck between two of them. Needless to say a ten and a half hour trip turned into fourteen hours.

Friday we made it home with no problems. And then it was time to do laundry and get back to normal life. I'm still in mourning, and I miss the mountains (and the "cooler" temps). 

The End

And everyone says, "Hallelujah! She's done recapping their trip!"

The Great Smokies . . . Part One

The whole purpose for our vacation was to go to the Smoky Mountains. I've seen mountain ranges in Texas (yep, we have mountains), New Mexico, Nevada, California, Missouri (do the Ozarks count as mountains?), and Hawaii, but I've never seen the Appalachians, and I wanted to see the Smokies in particular. Originally we were going to spend three nights in the Smokies and then spend a night in Memphis, but instead, we decided to skip the night in Memphis and stay an extra night in the Smokies. Definitely a good idea.

We got up early Sunday morning and headed to Tennessee. We stayed in a lodge about three miles outside of the busy-ness of Gatlinburg. It was so nice and peaceful. We went down to Gatlinburg a few times to eat, but otherwise didn't spend a massive amount of time there.

We stayed at The Lodge at Buckberry Creek. Aptly named for the creek that flows on the property. After we got settled in, we decided to explore the trail that led down to the creek. It is only 1/2 mile down, but it's not exactly well maintained. It's pretty steep in parts. Apparently, most people have someone take them down to the creek in the ATVs. Boring . . .

It was worth the trip down. It was/is beautiful, and there is a great pavilion that the owners have built overlooking the creek. On the way back up we encountered a copperhead. A big, fat, super coppery, copperhead. I seem to have a knack for attracting the dumb things.

The views from all over the property were gorgeous. 

The view from the main building at breakfast Monday morning. As a side note, the Lodge served the most amazing scones EVER. I mean oh! my! word! I could've eaten fifteen in one sitting, and I'm not even a big scones person. That's all.

Sunday night we went to Gatlinburg and walked around and had dinner. Gatlinburg is like a town fair on steroids. There are fudge shops, candy stores, and junk stores everywhere. It was fun to walk around, but I'm glad we stayed away from the center of the chaos.

On Monday morning we headed into the national park to explore. We drove up to Clingman's Dome to hike up to Andrews Bald. The Andrews Bald hike is 3.6 miles round trip. It's listed on the easy end of the moderate hikes. Andrew has great stamina, and so I figured it wouldn't be too hard for him. Mostly, it wasn't, but what I forgot to consider were his little four year old legs. What seems fairly easy to an adult (even a short one like myself) can be pretty darn steep to a four year old. It ended up taking us three solid hours (I know that's ridiculous), but Andrew walked the entire thing on his own. He took it like a champ. Although at one point he said with an incredibly loud sigh, "You know, I think I'm more of an indoor kind of peoples." I laughed at him. He didn't appreciate it. (I cannot get this paragraph to align left. It's irritating the fire out of me.)

The pictures are a little mixed up. I can't deal with blogger and trying to fix them so it'll just have to stay that way.

On the drive up to Clingman's Dome.

I'm pretty sure this is taken from the Tennessee-North Carolina state line.

At the top of Andrews Bald. Don't look too closely at my hair. It's a disaster.

Taken on the hike up to the bald (pics above and below).

The views from the top were unbelievable. There were clouds above us but none covering us, and you could see for miles into North Carolina. Seriously, these pictures don't do it justice. Actually none of the pictures really do justice to the beauty of the Smokies.

Side Story: On the way up this couple passed us. The lady was probably in her forties. The man in his fifties. They were kind of the earthy free spirit types. So about halfway up the trail widens and splits, and they are just standing there. The lady just keeps repeating in this creepy, irritating, sing-songy voice, "I just don't understand." So I kind of give her the "I don't really care, but I'm gonna be nice and ask anyway look", (yes, I know not very Christian like), and she says, "He lost his walking stick that he's had for seventeen years. I just don't understand." I didn't say it, but I was thinking, "What the heck? I don't understand either . . ." Once again, real sympathetic of me. But how do you lose a walking stick that's almost as tall as you? I mean one second your holding it, and the next . . . poof?!? These mountains really are magical. Then I noticed that it smelled like cigarette smoke, and the lady had decided to take a smoke break. Nice . . . in the middle of God's beautiful creation you decide to expose us all to second hand smoke. Thank you ma'am! Any sympathy I felt flew out the window. Anyway, we passed them again later, and the lady was still going about the walking stick. I mean, I understand sentimental value. I get attached to things too. But again, how do you suddenly lose a walking stick?

More to come . . . try to contain your excitement. Now I have to go resign myself to the fact that I am not hiking in the Smokies but instead about to iron a pile of clothes a mile high.