5 Friday Favorites: November 15, 2019

Happy Friday, Friends!

It's time for my Friday link up with A Little Bit of Everything, Grace and Love, and Momfessionals. 

On Fridays I share things that made me happy from the week - a photo, a song, a quote or Bible verse, a beauty product, a recipe, a pair of cute shoes, etc. If it's a product, sometimes it's something I actually own and sometimes something I just saw online that gave me a smile. Sometimes it's serious and sometimes it's silly. I suppose I believe that God is in the simple details of life and yes, I can even find Him in a tube of lipstick.

1. Aldi Three Wick Candles

I've mentioned before that I love candles and get so frustrated when they smell good in the store, but when you get them home and lit, there is no scent at all. I came to realize that the best candles are unfortunately, the most expensive ones. The best I have found are this one that costs $33.00 and these that range from $22.00 to $25.00ish.

That was until I found Hungington Home candles at Aldi for only $3.99.

WHAT? LESS THAN FIVE AMERICAN DOLLARS???

One warning. The Maple Pumpkin seemed like a great idea for fall. However, after burning it for a little while, I can tell you that the maple scent is super strong. Now, this might be great for you. Perhaps it will harken back memories of making pancakes on Saturday morning with your grandma. For me, it makes me remember those times when I was teaching elementary school and my sweet fourth graders had skipped the teeth-brushing portion of the morning. They always seems to smell like syrup. This was especially difficult the year that I was pregnant.

Apparently, now i have a Pavlovian response to that smell. So, if you are completely happy with your house smelling like an IHOP, go for it. If not, maybe choose a different scent.

2. Sinners Like Me 
Eric Church

We are going to the Eric Church concert tonight and I cannot wait. I have never described myself as a big country music fan, but Eric Church is a whole thing all by himself. I'm pretty sure that if you don't like Eric Church I need you to check your pulse. Sinners Like Me is one of my favorite songs by him and I'm crossing my fingers that he'll sing it.

3. Target Red & White Striped PJS

I think pjs are a great gift since sizing is easier to figure out as they don't have to fit exactly the same on everyone. I'm not quite ready to shop for Christmas, but I was in Target this week and apparently they have decided it's time. Living with Landyn mentioned these adorable pjs recently and they are really so cute for Christmas morning or any morning leading up to or after the birth of the Savior. There are a ton of other reasonably priced options for pjs at Target, but unfortunately I think they'll go pretty fast because the retail industry will not give us one stinkin' minute to enjoy our turkey. HEY, YOU GUYS:

4. To Kill a Mockingbird

No matter how many books I read in my lifetime To Kill a Mockingbird will forever claim the top spot of my best ever list. I found out recently that my husband hasn't read it which caused me to reevaluate our entire union. We are less than two months away from our 25th anniversary and we had a good thing going, but if he doesn't read this book, I might need to call the whole thing off. To be fair, I've never seen M*A*S*H or Star Wars which causes him equal disdain, so maybe we'll call it a wash. The saving grace might be that just this week it was assigned for Drew to read for Freshman English, so I do believe it's time for a family book club. Drew is going to be so excited. I can't even imagine the glee he'll feel. I am already creating discussion questions. 

5. Ryan Zimmerman Print

I saw this amazingly cool print by Art of Words on Twitter this week. I'm telling you I cannot think of a better gift for your favorite Nats fan. Especially those who have been with the team from the beginning like our very own Ryan Zimmerman. The print depicts Zimmerman's now famous reaction when he realized he just became a World Series champion. The entire thing is created by using words that include the date, opponent, and scores from every game in the 2019 season. I mean. Can you even? I can't.

Bonus: My Women's Bible Study Group

I recently heard an interview where a woman said this: "Pain shared is pain divided." I cannot think of a better way to describe my Tuesday Morning Bible Study group. I would also say that joy shared is joy multiplied. We came to the end of our study this week and celebrated with a brunch at my house. I had seventeen women holding hands and praying grace around the island in my kitchen and I desperately wish that I had a photo. We have women in all stages of life and I just can't get over how blessed I am to have them all in my life. I have learned from them. I have cried with them. I have clapped and laughed and celebrated with them. We have prayed for small things and big things and learned so much about Jesus. I hope that you have a group like this. If you don't, I urge you to find one or email me at jlpskinner@gmail.com. I've got one for you. We start up again in January. There is always more room at our table for you. 

Have a great weekend!

Disclosure: The View From Behind Home Plate is a participant in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program, an affiliate advertising program designed to provide a means to earn small fees by linking to amazon.com. Post might contain other affiliate links as well.

Fully Human, Fully God

I've written a devotional for my pastor's sermon series, "Who do you say I am?" today over at Arcola Church's website. .Start here and click over through the link. Have a great Wednesday, Friends!


Scripture:
"Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done. An angel from heaven appeared to him and strengthened him. And being in anguish, he prayed more earnestly and his sweat was like drops of blood falling to the ground." - Luke 22:42-44

Devotional:
Often, in discussions regarding the humanity and divinity of Jesus, I find that Christians can become a little anxious. I've noticed an almost apologetic tone that comes in conversations about the human emotions we see in Jesus. I suppose we have some fear that in recognizing these qualities we might appear to lack the appropriate reverence for His holiness. We are quick to follow any acknowledgement of Jesus as a man with the declarative reminders that He was also sinless, powerful, righteous, and perfect.

Absolutely appropriate to remember, of course, because all of those things are absolutely true. However, I think if we neglect to dig into the human qualities that our Lord displays, we will miss out on the fullest joy and hope that a relationship with Christ can provide.

READ THE REST HERE.

Remembering September 12th

It was September 11th yesterday which brings out a storm of social media posts, articles, and broadcasts focused on remembering. The trending hashtags on Twitter were #neverforget, #remember911 and #WhereWereYou.

As I have for the past eighteen years, I thought of that morning that I stood inches from my TV screen as my two year old watched Blue's Clues on a different TV and my eight month old napped. I thought of the confusion, the sadness, the anxiety, and the pain of that day. I thought of the fear, of the rage, and of how the rumors swirled of what building would be hit next. I thought of the frantic phone calls to my husband who was in DC and the sickening busy signal buzzing in my ear time and time again. I thought of the ways I pleaded and bargained with God to bring my husband home. I thought of the moment I heard the garage door open and how I felt gratitude and guilt that my family was intact all at the same time.       

In the days, weeks, and months that followed that day, I remember that as each moment passed there became an increasingly stronger awareness that for Americans there would always be a sense of "before" and "after". Even when questions still abounded in our hearts and in our heads, even when we weren't exactly sure of who was responsible for this evil, even when we hadn't assessed all the damage and the actual numbers of lives lost, we knew that we would be irrevocably changed by this one bright, cloudless, spectacularly beautiful September day that in an hour's time became so shockingly dark.

My kids have heard the stories. They have seen images of the crumbling towers, the burning Pentagon, and the smoldering wreckage in Pennsylvania. They have heard of Americans jumping out of buildings. Of families clutching photos of loved ones and of the death of ordinary men and women just going about their ordinary days.

As I woke this morning there was a sense of relief that we had made it through that day again. At least for those of us whose families were unharmed that day, we could choose to go on from here and tuck that sadness away until the next year. But as I scrolled through social media today I noticed a different post. It urged us to remember September 12th.

It occurs to me that I do often think about the beauty that followed so closely on the heels of the brutality in those days and weeks and months after the tragedy, but I'm not sure I have accurately emphasized that to my children. And what a tragic mistake it is to leave out the details of September 12, 2001. Of September 13th or October 20th or December 1st or of any day in the weeks and even many months that came after September 11, 2001.

On September 12th the contractors who were finishing our basement pulled into my driveway flying an enormous American flag on the back of their truck. I was watching my two young nieces along with my little boys because their daycare at the State Department where my sister-in-law and brother-in-law worked was closed. I can picture so clearly those mens' fallen faces, the way we shook our heads in sadness at each other, and the way one of them leaned down to greet the children with a sweet smile and broken English.

I remember going to the local nursery to pick up something and how the woman behind the counter and I looked each other directly in the eyes. We said nothing but gave each other a sad, intentional smile. Later that week I went to Party City to buy supplies for Joe's third birthday which would be in a few weeks. At the cash register little yellow ribbons were sitting in a dish. I pinned one to my shirt and grabbed tightly to the hand of the employee to say thank you. In the days that followed we watched children play on the swingsets in the backyard and listened to the deafening silence of the skies above our houses, suddenly absent of the planes we were used to hearing coming from the airport only five miles from our neighborhood.

Those are not unique or new stories. But I'm afraid they are stories we forget to emphasize in our quest to make sure that the acts of that day are remembered. If I want my children to live in hope and faith then they absolutely have to know the ways that we lost those things and they have to know how hard we worked to find them again. They have to know how hardened our hearts were in those first hours. And they have to know how we went about softening them. They have to know that there was no way we could have done it by sitting scared and alone in our homes.

We pulled close to each other. We trudged through all of that sadness to find our hope again by loving strangers as well as friends. We smiled at each other. We slowed down in the grocery store check out line. We looked each other in the eye. We held each other's gazes. We were gentler and kinder. We loved each other so well.

Those of us who have faith in Jesus and have learned how He will bring beauty from the ashes, don't just magically feel it. We have to work hard and be intentional to find it.

The details of that horrific, historic morning of Tuesday, September 11th are worthy of our focus and our remembrance. As worthy are the memories of many, many Tuesdays that followed. We are required to share all of the stories - from the fall all the way through to the rising. Those Tuesdays and Wednesdays and Saturdays for weeks and months taught us that we could believe in the words of Psalm 27:13.

"I am still confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living."

We saw the horror. We saw the pain. We saw the fear. We saw the grief.

But we saw hope and love and light and compassion and community. We saw a faith tested and a faith restored because we watched as the goodness of the Lord sprung up from the most horrific scenes we had ever witnessed.

I'll never forget September 11th. And I will never forget September 12th.

Moving Mountains

I have prayed so many prayers for you. Late at night, early in the morning, while I'm running, while I'm driving, while I'm drying my hair. I prayed each and every time you were sick whether with a stomach virus that landed you in the hospital or with a sore throat when you were away at basketball camp. I've prayed on each first day of school whether you were clinging to my leg with tears in your eyes or bounding out the door to pick up a friend with barely a wave good-bye. I've prayed when you've been on snowboards and on wakeboards, in airplanes and on ski boats. I've prayed for every tryout, every night out with your friends, every SAT test, and every single darn time you were at the foul line. So. many. prayers.

Most often I suppose I was praying for God to make the path easier. I wanted Him to get all the obstacles out of the way. I wanted Him to protect you from harm and help you get what you want. I have tried really hard to pray simply for His will to be done and for you to rise up to meet it, but generally I throw in what my will is for your life. You know, just in case the Creator of the Universe needs some ideas on how things should go down for you.

I suppose, in effect, I've asked Him to remove mountains. And I am certain He has done so a million times over. I'm sure that He has protected you from things I cannot even imagine - things that I never even knew to mention.

But what I have seen as I look back on your eighteen years is that so many times, He did not remove the mountains. He left them there - big and looming and seemingly impossible to climb.

But your God is so much wiser than your mama. When I prayed for Him to give you an easier path, He instead gave you courage and wisdom and confidence and faith. He left those mountains right there and then He let you figure out how to go up against them.

And you have figured it out. You've never backed down. You've changed your mind, set your path, and followed your heart, even when I winced and worried and fretted. Time and time again, in a zillion different ways, I've watched you stand right up against the mountain. You've found the way up and kept climbing. And often times you stared that mountain down. You've juked it and gone around it before anyone knew what was happening.

You've gone up against some pretty big mountains even when your mama was cowering in the corner saying, "Don't do it!". Thank goodness He made you braver than me.

So after a whirlwind of a senior year, we've arrived at graduation. We'll laugh and cheer and celebrate you and your friends and in two short months we'll send you off to Tennessee where you will start the new path God has for you, literally in the shadow of the mountains.

And your mama will continue to pray. I will pray that you will know that I am forever your biggest fan and that I believe in you - not only because I'm your mom, but because you have proven that facing a mountain is perhaps your favorite place to be. You are worthy of our faith in you.

But I know that there will be challenges, so I will pray that when you are far away and things seem hard and you feel alone that you will look up at the mountains in the backyard of your university. And that you will remember how many of them you have conquered already. And that you'll know that the sky above them is the same one that your mama sees and that the God who created them is the same One who has been there all along. And I hope that when you need to be brave that you'll be absolutely clear in knowing from whom your strength comes. And I pray that you will ask Him for it because He never has and never will fail you.

Keep climbin', kid. I love you to the mountaintops and back down again.

"I lift my eyes up to the mountains -

Where does my help come from?

My help comes from the Lord.

the Maker of heaven and earth.

He will not let your foot slip-

he who watches over you will not slumber."

-Psalm 121:1-3

Sunshine & Hope On Opening Day

Sunday was Northern Virginia Travel Baseball League's Opening Day. It was bright and sunny, but cold. Interestingly enough, this baseball mom has a part time gig as a basketball mom. So I spent most of Sunday inside a warm gym watching my middle son play in an AAU tournament. On the way to the gym, I passed at least three or four youth ballparks - their parking lots full of SUVs and mini vans, their bleachers full of parents wrapped up against the wind and their fields full of players basking in the immense possibilities that come with the first game of the season.

This had me thinking about an Opening Day a few years ago. It was cool and bright like this one and as full of hope and promise, but the hearts of my family and many in my neighborhood were dark and heavy. I wrote this piece the next day. 

Originally published April 2015

It was Little League Opening Day on Saturday. It is one of my favorite days of the year.  The sun shone bright and we almost forgot about the bitter winter we had endured. My older boys have aged out of Little League, but the little man gets to start his first year in the Majors this season.  He, as my husband likes to say, was "shot out of a cannon" as soon as he woke up.  I was to miss the opening ceremonies because I had to take my middle son to a basketball game, but I raced back to the park as quickly as I could to make it for the youngest's first Little League game of the season.

I pulled into the full parking lot as if a child looking for Santa. The ceremony was over but the park which had been empty and snow covered only weeks before was bustling with activity. Lines of children snaked between moon bounces and food trucks. Music blared and flags flew high over the fields.

This was a day my community needed. After such a brutal winter, we deserved the bright morning and the changing of the season laid out before us.  Opening Day is the hope of pristine white pants (a hope that is dashed as soon as those cleats hit the grass). It is the possibility of a winning season.  It is the promise of not one, not two, but at least three chances to swing for the fences. I was so ready for this day. I barely had my car in park before I was ready to rip off the seat belt and run up to find a flame-haired, freckle-faced boy with black lines smeared under his eyes. A boy who would adjust his catcher's mask with the utmost confidence that though he is small, he is fierce. Opening Day is full of promise.

READ THE REST HERE.

Spring Break Summary: Including That Time My Kid Said I Was Right

Well, after a Spring Break week spent with Drew's baseball team in glorious sunshine and the cloudless, blue skies of Florida, we have returned to Northern Virginia where apparently Spring goes to die a sad, lonely death.

Just kidding. Truly, I am. I mean, it is grey and cold and raining today, but I am bound and determined to hold on to the hope and positive vibes that a restful vacation brings me. It is remarkable what the sun, sand and ocean waves can do for my spirit. Add the miracle of Easter to the end of the week and I am completely renewed.

So I am going to recap a few highlights from the week which included driving thousands of miles and stopping at numerous gas stations, listening to hours of podcasts and reading two whole books, gazing at sunsets and giggling at my boys, cheering baseball players and chatting with their mamas and also a blue drink called a Jet Ski from the beach side bar that was joy in a plastic cup.

To start though, I will share with you, dear readers - especially, you moms - the most important event of the entire week - a moment brought to you by the voice of a severely sunburned teenager, the day after he was told no less than 7,000 times by his mom to put on more sunscreen as he lay on the Florida beach.

"MAAAAAAA! Why don't you smack me upside the head when I don't listen to you?"

(Note: There is no paraphrasing here. No artistic license. This is exactly what was uttered into the universe for my very own ears to hear by my seventeen year old knucklehead.)

And I don't mind telling you that before I went on to offer compassion and aloe vera lotion, I stood in awe and wonder at what I had just heard and my insides pretty much did this:

In honor of this momentous occasion when a child I birthed into the world saw fit to acknowledge that I was right about something, I would like to thank the Academy and my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

Just in case you think I'm taking too much pleasure in that turn of events, calm down. It was fine. A day out of the sun, some aloe, ibuprofen, icy towels and a whole lot of peeling skin and he survived to live another day of ignoring most of what I have to say.

After spending many days on the beach, we had a great time watching Drew's spring baseball team play their first game of the season at Eckerd College in Tampa. They won big.

After the game, the whole mess of us went to get ice cream at a building shaped like an ice cream cone which seemed like the most logical way to celebrate the blessed return of baseball.

Joe flew in from State College, PA for a few days so I was so happy to have the whole family together. The boys had a blast and I got a little misty eyed realizing that it appears that more often than not they really are the best of friends. It is one of a mama's greatest hopes and I pray it will continue.

I will say that our hotel left a little to be desired, but I was so happy to be in the warm weather that I tried really hard to get over it. The silver lining was that I became very adept at being sure that my feet never actually touched the floor. I am so skilled that one night when one of my socks fell off while I was sleeping, I had to hop on one foot to the bathroom and I did so with great success. Please hold your applause. Here's a peek at my girls and me getting a glamour shot at what we labeled the hotel's "Grand Staircase". Please notice the lovely hues of purple, red and turquoise on the walls and carpet.

In the end, the sunsets made up for everything. They were stunning every single night.

Of course, the Skinner family can't let vacation get in the way of multiple sporting events and since the NCAA Women's and Men's Basketball tournaments were going on, there was no doubt that we would find ourselves a tv a time or two to watch some hoops.



Warning to all the college basketball players: If you make a last second winning shot there is a 100% chance I will re-watch it 700 times and cry my ever-lovin' eyes out as if I gave birth to you. It doesn't matter if I have never heard of you or even of your school. The number of children I have "birthed" during this NCAA tournament is too many to count. Yes, I might have named my boys boring, run-of-the mill names like Joe, Kyle and Drew, but do not doubt that I have been officially behaving as if I also have a daughter named Arike Ogunbowale. While we're at it, let's just say I have a sister named Muffet McGraw. Give me all the buzzer beaters. I heart sports so darn much.

On the way back home we stopped in Columbia, South Carolina to check out the University of South Carolina. It was a lovely campus. My favorite part was the enormous Strom Thurmond Wellness Center which basically looks like the country club that Troy and Gabriella worked at in High School Musical 2.

uoscsastayinformed.wordpress.com

After spending six nights at a beach hotel, when we spent the night in the Courtyard Marriott in Columbia, I felt like a princess in a castle.

The drive home the next day was really long, but we were able to live stream the Big Ten Network so that we could listen to Joe make his debut as a baseball broadcaster when he called the Penn State vs. Purdue baseball game. We were just as proud as we could be and it helped make the trip a little more bearable.

I was so happy to make it back to our church for Easter and after the service I literally felt like it was a new year. I suppose there are challenges in all seasons of life, of course. And for me, the literal season of winter is particularly difficult. There have been times during these last months that I think I have closed myself off from facing the change that comes with reality of my children becoming grown-ups. With one gone to college and one with a foot out the door and one who is a full fledged teenager, I have spent many days - not all, but many - confused and frankly fearful as to what this future means for them, for me, for us. I have spent time wanting to turn back, to slow time, to pull up the covers and pretend that life can stay the same when in fact it can't. It shouldn't.

But that Easter Sunday, surrounded by familiar hymns and the reminder of the defining moment of my faith, I felt the stirring reminder that our Lord remains the same and that He has always and will always have good things in store for us and for those we love. We are able then to look past the dark of winter and remember the victorious words, "He is not here. He has risen. Just as he said." I have celebrated Easter for almost 50 years and just this year, I have seen a quote numerous times this week that I had never once seen before. No matter what we have gone through in our past and no matter what we will go through in the uncertain future we will always know this:

We are an Easter people and Alleluia is our song.

-Pope Saint John Paul II

Amen, Amen and Amen.

Happy Springtime to you, friends. (even if it doesn't feel like Spring quite yet!)

Friday Favorites: January 26, 2018

It's Friday! I'm linking up with A Little Bit of Everything, Grace and Love and Momfessionals today to share some favorites from the week (or maybe even a few weeks ago. It's been awhile!)

1. Last Chance U

I just finished Season 2 of Last Chance U on Netflix and cried like a baby. It's a documentary focused on the football team at East Mississippi Community College. Many of the athletes there are trying to get back to the Division I schools that have dismissed them for academic or disciplinary problems. I can't recommend it highly enough. Although, I will tell you in all caps: THE LANGUAGE IS BAD. REAL BAD. I find myself cheering like a maniac for these kids - both in football and in their lives. The best part is the real-live-Tammy-Taylor, Brittany Wagner , who is the Athletic Academic Adviser.  Girlfriend has her work cut out for her, but she loves the fire out of these boys. She forgives and gives grace when you know that she wants to throw a football right at their stubborn heads. It is a joy to watch. Recently I heard writer and podcaster, Sophie Hudson, describe a movie as "having the Gospel written all over it." That is absolutely true of this series. For real. It's so darn good.

Miss Wagner giving somebody a piece of her mind

Miss Wagner is not buying it from Ollie

Miss Wagner tracks down a player who is skipping class

Miss Wagner visits a player who went on to big things

Miss Wagner has to say good-bye to her athletes 

2. Chili w/ Sweet Potatoes

Photo from www.tastesoflizzyt.com

I've been doing the Whole30 program this month and I happened on this chili recipe that is compliant with the program. At first I thought it would be totally weird with the sweet potatoes, but I promise you it was so good. This recipe makes a ton of chili, so you might want to half it or freeze some.

2 lbs of hamburger
1 red onion, chopped
1 tsp. minced garlic
1 can tomato sauce (29.5 oz.)
2 cups petite diced tomatoes with juice
3 cups beef stock
1 cup carrots, sliced
5 cups sweet potatoes, peeled and cubed
2 bay leaves
1/2 tsp thyme
2 tsp. salt
1 1/2 tsp. black pepper
1/2 cup chili powder
dash of oregano
dash of red pepper flakes

Brown, hamburger, garlic and onion in large saucepan and drain off fat. Place cooked hamburger in slow cooker and add all other ingredients. Cook on low 6-8 hours or high 4-6.

3. God Help Me by Plumb

For me, January has been very . . . well . . . January-ish. Nothing terrible, nothing exciting, just kind of blah. January is supposed to be new and exciting. We're supposed to have vision and motivation. I've been intimidated by the goal setting and resolution-ing I see happening on social media because I feel a little stuck. Here's some real talk: You know those periods when you doubt yourself and wonder if your dream or goal is dumb and you've been wrong all along? Those days when you compare your insides to other's outsides by wondering how it is that everyone is killing it and yet for you, just managing what to make for dinner seems a monumental task? Days it also seems that like Paul says in Romans, "I don't understand what I do. For what I want to do, I do not do and what I hate, I do."? In these periods, sometimes faith feels far away and trust seems difficult. My brain knows that He is there, but I can't seem to find Him. I don't know what season you might be in. Maybe you're kicking butt or maybe you're wondering if and when God will move or even wondering if He hears you at all. Either way, this song I heard this week is a good start for seeking Him when you're having trouble finding the words. 

4. Trader Joe's Face Mask Trio

One of the greatest indicators that I am experiencing January-ish-ness is when I spend more time in pjs and workout clothes than out of them which is not necessarily a bad thing. It might be exactly what we need. When I do that there also tends to be lots of bubble baths, facial masks and Netflix. This is combination I find quite delightful as long as it doesn't extend into Februaryishness.  I bought this set of face masks at Trader Joe's during the holiday season as one of those back up gifts you want to have in emergency situations, but ended up gifting it to my own self. I'm not sure if you can still find it at TJ's, but if not, I also got this Dead Sea Essentials Mud Mask and it was pretty great, too.

5. A Portrait of My Life

Photo Credit: Loudoun Times-Mirror

In thinking about new years goals and learning to say "no" to some things in order to say "yes" to other things, I read something which encouraged writing down where you spend your time to include activities that drain you or take your joy away and then things you love - things that give you life and bring you joy. I love writing, of course, and I'm trying to figure out how to order my life so that I make it priority. But that wasn't the first thing I wrote down. At this point in my life, I'd rather watch my kids play their favorite sports more than just about anything else in the world. It doesn't matter if they are starting players or only hit the floor/field for a minute or two. There is very rarely a time I will miss watching a game. I imagine that some folks might find that pretty pathetic and think that I need to get a life. I imagine that some might think that when these boys are gone I won't know what to do with myself. 

Perhaps, they're right. But, I'll deal with that problem when I get to it. Watching them compete has been the rhythm of my life for so long now. And frankly, I'm not even close to over it. I am unapologetically in love with watching these kids play. And when some photographer catches a moment like this one? It's not only that this perfectly shows the size of the fight in this dog, it's the fact that this shot shows fuzzy ol' me up in the corner, hands clasped in earnest, bearing witness to my kid and his teammates playing their hearts out. This is, in essence, the portrait of my life for the past 10 to 15 years. I know I'm lucky to have the flexibility to be able to be there for these moments. And I do not regret a single road trip, a single time when my back felt like it was going to break from sitting in the bleachers and not even that time when I acted a fool and the ref at a basketball game told me to "Relax, ma'am!".

(Listen, I said I was sorry, okay, but it was a bad call. Really bad. And it was the second bad call in a row from that guy. I didn't know that the whole gym would suddenly fall quiet or that he was standing right next to me when I yelled out "THAT IS JUST TERRIBLE." Also, if you must know, his shorts were too short. Anyway, I learned my lesson. Still: #noregrets)

PS If you are in South Riding and you aren't showing up to watch the Freedom Varsity  basketball games - girls or boys - you are missing out. And this is not remotely a shameless plug about my kid. We've got some players who are magical to watch. We've got a kid who has busted every single basketball record at our school. I'm telling you. Those dudes put on a show. I know everyone has 7,000 things going on, but if you find a free night, check out the schedule here.

PPS This is the same face my kid makes when I serve broccoli.

Have a great weekend everyone!

Disclosure: The View From Behind Home Plate is a participant in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program, an affliate advertising program designed to provide a means to earn small fees by linking to amazon.com

5 (or so) Friday Favorites: October 27, 2017

Happy Friday!

I have to say that for me this was an A+ week. The weather was spectacular - probably too warm for some, but I'm a fan of warm Octobers. I started off Sunday with a brunch with some of my favorite girlfriends who haven't been able to sit around a table for a long while together. We talked for hours and it was a great way to start the week. Monday we were able to sleep late because there was a teacher work day. On Wednesday I hopped in the car to take mid-week trek to State College, Pennsylvania to spend 24 hours with Joe, my freshman at Penn State University. I stayed right on campus at the beautiful Nittany Lion Inn and I learned how to make coffee in a Keurig like an honest to goodness grown-up. Unfortunately, however, when in Rome, I decided to eat like an 18 year old freshman boy. Yikes.

And I can't even tell you how many times I whispered thanks to God for leading my boy to that school. So many times, I'm pretty sure He was all, "Dude. Give it a rest. You're welcome already."

Later in the week, there was an answer to a prayer I've been praying for a long while. Trust and patience are hard for us, but when He comes through in just the way we hoped? Man, do I love it when that happens. I also had some long conversations with a friend or two that reminded me again of how faithful is a God who does not leave us alone and confused in the seasons of life when we feel we have exactly zero idea of what in the world is the right thing to do. This week I was so grateful for His presence and the way He has put people in my life to be His hands and feet and ears. My life is not remotely perfect. I have a boatload of worries as many of us at this stage of life do. Kelly Corrigan calls it the middle place - that place when we are caught between concern for our parents and our children, all the while trying to figure out what in the world is to become of us as each season continues to pummel us with change. I hate change. But God doesn't change. Ever. It's perhaps my favorite thing about Him.

It was a good one, friends and it's not because it was all ease and dance parties. It was because I chose to look for Him and He was right there giving me hope for each day. Anyway, here are some other random bits of happy from the week.

1. Kate's Hair Bow Nail Color

Go here. Right now. Read about Kate. Look at her sweet face and her pretty bow. Order this. That's all.

2. RX Bars

When I was doing the Whole30, I was always looking for something to have when I was away from home (which meant I was at a baseball field) and needed to eat, but couldn't find anything that was compliant. I read about these RX Bars and found some at Trader Joe's. I will tell you they're not easy on the teeth, but they are really yummy. Later, I read an article that said Whole30 was removing them from the compliant list because people were misusing them as a way to curb sugar addiction as opposed to being used as in an emergency situation when food is unavailable. And to that I say, "What part of "IF I HAVE TO EAT ONE MORE PIECE OF CAULIFLOWER I WILL HARM SOMEBODY." is not an emergency? Don't be such a jerk, man."

3. The Mothers by Brit Bennett

I know I mentioned that I bought Gabrielle Union's book last week, but I've read so many memoirs and non-fiction lately that I wanted to read a fiction book or two next. I've had this book on my list for a long time. Here's part of the synopsis from Amazon:

Set within a contemporary black community in Southern California, Brit Bennett's mesmerizing first novel is an emotionally perceptive story about community, love, and ambition. It begins with a secret.

"All good secrets have a taste before you tell them, and if we'd taken a moment to swish this one around our mouths, we might have noticed the sourness of an unripe secret, plucked too soon, stolen and passed around before its season."

The central character is a 17 year old girl who has just lost her mother to suicide and has started a secret relationship with the pastor's son. I'm only 30% in - thanks for that info, Kindle - and the characters are all people that feel so real that you want to sit down, have a chat, and get to know them better. I don't know which way the plot will turn next, but so far I'm a fan.

4. Dirty John Podcast

I know. This seems really "sketch" and also "sus". That's "sketchy" and "suspect" for you who might not have had the enlightening experience of driving a car full of teenagers around. This six episode true crime podcast is both of those things. It's not porn though, I promise. Think what we used to watch on Dateline/PrimeTime/20/20 every week. I heard about it on The PopCast with Knox and Jamie and decided to download it before I took my road trip to State College. I finished it on my way back. OH MY WORD. So creepy and so good.

5. Gap Luxe Tees

During part of the day while I was visiting Joe, he had to go record a sports podcast and for some reason I guess the hosts weren't looking to have someone's mom join them as a special guest. Whatever. Anyway, I took that opportunity to go to a few outlets near the university. These tees were 50% off and I bought them in two different colors. I actually went in to get a short sleeve tee to wear with these pajama pants because I am a weirdo who can only sleep in long pants and short sleeves. No shorts. No long sleeves. Anyway, these tees are so soft and fit so well that they can be worn for sleeping or for waking. Any time a piece of apparel can go from my bed to outside in the real world, I'm in.

6. Aldie General Store & Cafe

If you are in my area, I would suggest gathering up your girlfriends - or your husband and kids - and finding your way to this adorable Aldie General Store & Cafe right down Route 50 West. There is outdoor and indoor seating and the atmosphere is so fun and unique. (All I'm saying to my local peeps is this: It's not Panera. Yay! ) It has an amazing menu and the brunch was great. The sweet gal who took our order has a fabulous Australian accent, so be sure to ask her lots of questions so you can listen to it. Highly recommend this precious place.

That's all, folks. Have a wonderful weekend!

In Defense of Joy, Celebration & Dawg Piles

I've written here before about how to be a delightful fan. Athletes are under a lot of scrutiny because those who behave badly get a lot of press. In youth sports, parents and their children are under the same microscope for the same reason. For any youth athlete, an emphasis on sportsmanship is important and I am incredibly grateful to the coaches who have taught and modeled good sportsmanship to my kids throughout the years. There is a right way to both win and to lose. 

In the NFL there is a penalty for too much celebration. I understand that sometimes it gets to be too much. I am never in favor of taunting or belittling an opponent with celebration, of course. As well, there is a popular quote that is prevalent among athletes, even the young ones. It discourages too much enthusiasm and is known as the "Act like you've been there before." rule. I'm pretty sure my husband would ascribe to this theory. But, I was contemplating these ideas recently and this is what I thought. 

It's pretty profound, so get ready.

Those kinds of rules? They totally bum me out.

READ THE REST HERE.

A Time for Every (Baseball) Season

If you count fall and spring seasons and consider them spread out among all three of my boys, I figure I've sat in the bleachers for approximately sixty baseball seasons.

And in the past several weeks, as I've been away from this blog, I've been adamant that I do everything possible not to miss a single inning of the final season for Joe, who is a senior this year. You might say that this has made my time at the games a little more. . .um. . . let's see. . . what's the word?

Intense? Emotional? Downright heart-wrenching?

This season we've had some victories and defeats as usually happens in baseball. And most mature, reasonable people who are not trying to grip tightly to time to make it slow down understand that.  We try to tell our kids that sometimes you win and sometimes you lose and sometimes it rains. That losses teach us lessons that wins cannot and build our character and perseverance.

Do you know what losses also do sometimes? If you happen to be a baseball mom that on occasion might tend toward hating losing more than she likes winning and also, has a penchant for taking a game just a tad more seriously than necessary? In that case, a loss just might make you consume a not-at-all-small tupperware container of macaroni and cheese and a not-at-all small glass of wine at 10:00 at night on a Monday.

Hypothetical mom. I know no one like that.

The other night we lost to our crosstown rival school in the last game of the regular season. And I do mean "we" even though I am neither a player nor a coach. Because it's quite possible that the defeat was a direct result of my sitting in the wrong place in the bleachers or crossing my legs in the top of the inning as opposed to the bottom of the inning. Also it is highly likely that I wore the wrong earrings or underwear or something completely irresponsible like that.

This is what baseball fans do. They become insanely superstitious. If you've been here before you might remember this post about a certain Little League coach's lucky shorts. I've often tried to pass myself off as above this nonsense. In fact, each time I am on my way to a game, I completely intend to be rational and focused on the game and not on any sort of banana-sandwich-crazy-pants ritual.

Incidentally, the Lovely and Talented Mrs. C. - who has been part of my baseball posse for close to a decade - is also The Reasonable and Sane Mrs. C. in the great majority of her life. The exception would be during baseball games.

She sat next to me during that rivalry game. There were thoughts about putting our hoods up on our heads or maybe just one of us putting our hood up to help the mojo.  There is always thought given to the importance of where we position ourselves in the bleachers or if we must, for the good of the team, endure standing near the fence. Perhaps we should lean forward in our chair as opposed to resting against the chair back? At one point when "we" were trying to get the go ahead run in to break the 3-3 tie, she decided she should watch the rest of the game while covering one eye. I think we got a runner on base at that point, so for a quite awhile it was clear that she would be watching the last innings only with her left eye.

This led to us singing numerous TLC songs during the game including Waterfalls, Creep and a stirring rendition of (I don't want) No Scrubs. Also, there was a moment of silence for Lisa "Left Eye" Lopes. #RIP.

We're totally normal.

When I am being logical and mature and highly annoying, I argue against all of this bunk which is what I did Monday afternoon. While in the kitchen getting ready to leave for the game, I said something along the lines of really wanting to win (or perhaps I might have used the word "crush". I can't really confirm or deny that.) Steve commented that that would surely anger the "baseball gods" and I immediately dismissed him as ridiculous. It's possible at that point that I got on a soapbox about superstitions like that taking away from believing in the skill and hard work of the players. I'm pretty sure I threw in terms like  "monotheism" and a sarcastic suggestion that if we were going to talk like that maybe we should just build a golden calf or something.

(Listen, he asked me to marry him. I didn't ask myself. He has to live with his choice.)

In the end, you'll be shocked to know that none of our rituals worked and in the bottom of the 7th the tie was broken and we lost 4-3.

Thus, commenced my effort to eat and drink all my feelings and send numerous depressing and angry texts to my baseball mom posse.

I'm not sure what your pastor or therapist tells you about how to deal with disappointment. But I'm going to guess that the above are not on a suggested list of good coping mechanisms. Because even if you get a good night's sleep and imagine that everything will look better in the morning, when you wake up you might look in the mirror to find this staring back at you.

The good news is that we have a rematch tonight in the first round of the playoffs. The winning team will move on to play again and the losing team will see their baseball season end. And for me, if that happens it will be the last time I see Joe as a player on the baseball field. And the thing is that no matter who wins, there will be friends of mine on both sides who might see their kiddos play baseball for the last time ever. There will be tears and there will be images of kids who were t-ball players exactly five minutes ago dancing in their mama's heads. I know that my friends on the other side of the fence will be praying as hard as I will that God will see fit to extend this final season to at least one more game.

I'm hoping for more games. And I intend to be reasonable, calm and quiet this evening. I will know that the Lord works all things out for good. I will know that His timing is perfect. That He has all of these boys in the palm of His hand. And I will enjoy the game with the utmost trust that everything will happen as it should. That things end when they are supposed to end. And that new beginnings and the vast possibilities of a young man's story waiting to written are blessings of immeasurable worth.

And also, I will go out to Party City today to see if I can find one of those pirate costume eye patches for The Lovely and Talented Mrs. C. to wear over her left eye because we clearly got it wrong. She should have watched out of her right eye.

Duh.

"For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven."

Ecclesiastes 3:1