“There’s a Lot of Beauty in Ordinary Things”

Waking up. Morning routines. Commute. Coffee breaks. Homework.

These are all ordinary things. None of which will ever be the topic of a Jerry Bruckheimer movie.

We all have ordinary routines strung throughout our days. And more often than not, they can grow redundant, monotonous, and just plain boring.

That’s why a lot of us turn to other vices in order to shake things up a bit.

Last night I was lucky to get off work early enough to make it home in time to watch the finale of The Office with Sarabeth. Ironically, it was the first time we’d ever seen our favorite show on NBC the night of its airing.

My mini-review of it is at the bottom of this post.

The last line of the show was Pam’s words: “There’s a lot of beauty in ordinary things.”

Sarabeth and I used to commute to work together, and though that got ordinary after a while, I still missed it when we no longer could do that.

When I took a job that required me to be there at 4 a.m., the first day I left was really sad for us because we could no longer have our routine breakfast together.

Our case study worker made her second visit night before last and she is going to recommend us for approval with the state! That doesn’t mean we’re approved yet, as they’re still waiting on some out-of-state paper work, but let’s just say we went ahead and ordered a pack-n-play and will be picking it up in a week or so!

But I am sure the novelty of having a child in the house will wear off at some point, and I’m sure I’ll grow tired of waking up every ten minutes to rock him or her back to sleep, and those things too, will become routine.

But may I heed the legacy that The Office left behind in our home, and remember that there’s a lot of beauty in ordinary things.

I’ve been trying to capture and remember those seemingly dull moments, because I know they won’t last.

Just this morning I found myself just standing outside the bathroom staring at our four year old puppy. She was just sitting there, staring back at me. It was dull and ordinary, but it was special. (Of course, Sarabeth had no idea what I was doing, so she ran over to give Pixie a hug and said I was just being weird, acting like a creeper/stalker… I captured that, too.)

So moral of the story is, people might think you’re weird, like pulling a George Banks at every sentimental or inconspicuous moment. But when you start shifting through memory lane down the end of your road, I doubt you’ll regret taking so many mental snapshots of your daily life.

NOW… about last night’s final episode: “Spoiler alert.”

All I can say is two words: Michael Scott.

He came back! Like a lost dog whom we’ve missed for so long. And it was perfect - absolutely perfect - that he only had two lines in the whole episode. It showed me that his character was so developed that even in his two year absence, he grew and matured. He no longer found his identity in front of the camera… He had matured and grew wiser in Colorado (our dream state) – and he has kids!!

As far as the rest of the episode goes, I think it went smoothly. It wasn’t quite Return of the King great, but as far as wrapping everything up and bringing each character to its closing, I felt like it was very satisfactory, and I was left with no questions.

Oh, and I’d like to point out the irony, that in yesterday’s blog post I mentioned how the finale would be like the actual burial of the show, and Dwight and Angela stood in their graves to be married. Thought that was kind of funny.

And I love that they danced to the Cars 2 theme song. With the exception of Brave, The Office has made a reference to every Pixar film. Yes, I’ve personally verified that myself.

All-in-all, Michael Scott’s two little lines cracked us up, and were funnier than the entire last season put together. But it was very well worth the wait.

Even as a writer, it’s not possible for me to put into words how much I will miss this show, and how happy I was to see Michael Scott one last time.

Casting Stones

I was driving to work yesterday, just a regular 80′s-music-induced drive. I drove the usual speed limit, dealt with the usual traffic not knowing how to merge, and then it happened.

I was singing along with the Cranberries (don’t judge), and I actually saw the white pebble slip out from under the truck in front of me. That’s how big it was. And even though I watched it shoot toward me, the impact on the windshield still made me jump.

I was angry. Even though there wasn’t yet a visible crack, I know that sometimes it takes time for those to appear and grow. I thought about writing down the truck’s license plate number so I could sue him when it comes time to paying for my windshield repair.

What a dumb thing to think, right? But all sorts of possible scenarios are permitted to play out in one’s imagination.

I thought about how this truck driver has absolutely no idea how angry he made me, and how he will never know that he totally destroyed my Toyota Scion. He’s just going to go about his day oblivious to his negative impact on my life.

What a jerk.

And then it happened.

I know it was a bird because I watched as a flock of them soared toward me from the bushes as I slowed down toward the end of the off-ramp. It wasn’t like the sound of a rubber ball on my windshield. It was softer – and more feathery-er.

It’s the first time I ever hit an animal that I know of. Even though in my younger days I actually tried to hit squirrels. I’m not very proud of that, and lucky for them I’m a bad aim.

Well, it was a bird this time alright. Just for confirmation I looked into my rearview mirror.

5…4…3…2…

Aaaand, thud. It landed right in front of another car, making it swerve a little. (“I swear, Honey! A bird hit a UFO and fell right in front of me as I was gettin’ off that dere freeway!” – I usually think of the average Ketuckian sounding like Mater the Tow Truck.)

Well, I thought about that bird. And the stone from just a minute before.

You see, I got really upset that someone caused a loud noise on my windshield, which never cracked, by the way.

But I had a negative impact on that bird’s life. So negative that I killed it.

I thought about that Bible verse that says God sees every sparrow fall to the ground. Matthew 10:29 I believe.

After I repented, I realized God was teaching me something.

Someone might cast a stone or two at me, and I have no reason to complain. Two reasons:

1) I probably (and I mean definitely) deserve to have stones cast at me.

2) Instead of complaining about the stones thrown at me, I should focus more instead on how I can avoid being the boulder that crushes someone else.

Doors, Dogs, and Doubt

So it has finally begun. I realize I’ve been quiet on the topic of our adoption journey since I’ve first started this blog early last year.

Well, with our classes out of the way (not much to blog about there), the paper work filled out (most of if), and house made as child-proof as can be (the picture here is of our future child’s room), I am thrilled to say that we had our first home study visit yesterday evening.

We’ve been worried sick over this visit for the past couple of months. When we brought it to the attention of the foster-to-adopt class that we live in a loft – a home without doors – we were practically laughed out of the program.

It was humiliating, for sure. But it only angered me. First off, Sarabeth had drawn a perfect blueprint of our home (as instructed) showing that the two bedrooms are completely separate – each at the end of our U-shaped loft. There’s lots of privacy.

The second thing that angered me was how quickly the minds of our fellow classmates – prospective foster-to-adopt parents – sunk into the gutter – hence all the laughter.

We could put up a door, separating the nook and bedroom from the living room, but it would significantly devalue the worth of the loft. So, in the interest of financial planning, that was not feasable.

The second thing we were worried about was our three dogs. Dachshunds. And if you know dachshunds, they’re known for four things: cuddling, sensitive backs, barking, and lots more barking.

It’s stressful having people over knowing the dogs are going to spend the first ten minutes barking their fool heads off. So, over time we’ve learned different strategies of keeping them at bay (locking them up) and shortening the length of barking time (bribery with treats that require perseverance and time to get through).

So needless to say, we were prepared for the home study visit to end with, “Call me when you get some doors up, and you get your dogs under control.”

I won’t bore you with the details, but let me just say that last night’s visit couldn’t have gone any better. The case worker, who was a wonderfully nice person – to our surprise – didn’t see any problem with us having no doors as our bedrooms are indeed very separate from each other.

…And she was a dog lover! She had two of her own – a collie and a something Shepherd (Australian, German, I forget – either way, the kind of big dogs I would like to have one day).

So all this to encourage you, if you’re living in a world of worry, or anxiety is keeping you up at night, and you don’t have the strength or faith to pray about it (like me), keep your friends in the loop and they’ll pray on your behalf. Many of our friends and family members prayed for us, and we’re so thankful.

So, with just a few more things to check off our list, we’re almost approved to be foster-to-adopt parents – and so, so excited, and shocked, and simply thankful.

Yeah, despite all the worrying, things are starting to fall into place. I bet it’s that way for most other people as well.

Life of Pi: To Read or to Watch … That’s the Question, Isn’t it?

Sarabeth and I sat down to watch Life of Pi less than an hour after I finished reading the book. Having read the book of course, I was extremely excited for the movie – and curious as to how it had maintained just a PG rating.

I know some of my readers have yet to see the movie, or even read the book. Or maybe you’ve seen it, but not read it or visa-versa. So you’re wondering, is it worth reading or is it worth watching?

Allow me to share my thoughts on both written and visual depictions of the story by Yann Martel.

Life of Pi by Yann Martel. Let me tell you, the first few sentences had me hooked. Now, let me make clear to you: I’m not blind to the fact that this book’s cover may have well been a picture of those “Coexist” bumper stickers. (Somebody pointed out at church recently that we already do coexist, so what’s the point of the sticker?)

I read books with many different hats on. I found myself having to switch hats on many different occasions while reading this piece of work.

As a blogger and book reviewer, I couldn’t wait to share this exciting read with my readers.

As an author, I learned many  new tricks from Mr. Martel, and am indebted to his bravery of venturing into new territories, and am awed by his storytelling abilities. He truly has proved himself a master of fiction.

As a husband, I sounded like this throughout the last two weeks: “Sarabeth, this book has a lot of potential” … “Sarabeth, I don’t agree with his religious outlook, but he’s such a great writer, I don’t care!” … “Umm… this book is really gory. You might not be able to read it” … “I just threw up” … “I just cried like a baby.” … “Finished. Let’s start the movie.”

But as a Christian, I was not blinded to the overt inclusivistic themes of the book.

(To be sure, the movie hammered those themes much more than the book did.)

I will say that it was extremely fascinating to hear the account of Christianity retold through the eyes of a Hindu/Muslim (yes, the main character Pi subscribes to both religions, plus Christianity).

I am a huge proponent of seeing the world (and God) through the eyes of non-Christians, which is one reason why I think it’s pointless for Christians to only read theology-based books, or listen to only Christian music.

There are so many passages from the book I wanted to share on this post to you all, but space (and time) limit me. So for the sake of story, I truly hope many of you get a chance to read this book. I would be remiss in not warning you however, as I hinted above, that the book is extremely gory at times, and could be overly upsetting to many animal-lovers.

Life of Pi directed by Ang Lee. If anything stood in my way from watching the movie, it would have been director Ang Lee’s weak reputation as a movie director. Need I say more than 2003′s all-time disaster Hulk? That, and his insistance on being controversial, i.e. Brokeback Mountain.

But people have redeemed themselves before. Everyone deserves another chance.

I think Ang Lee did the story more harm than good. I don’t know if it was his decision to add all the weird New Age-y special effects, which really served as nothing more than a New Age mini-sermon disrupting the story, or Hollywood’s insistance to cash out on the 3d rage. Either way, the exagerated color schemes and light shows were all for naught, in my opinion.

I never felt that sense of hopelessness and fear and desperation that we should have felt from Pi since falling into the lifeboat. There was never that Cast Away feel of being alone and missing the life that has forgotten you thousands and thousands of miles away.

Danny Boyle, director of 127 Hours would have been a shoe-in for this project. He knows how to make the audience thirsty for a single drop of water. With a certain, magical way of filmmaking, he can trap every audience member’s hand between a rock and a wall, and convince us all to long for a knife to saw off our arm. That’s exactly the kind of director Life of Pi needed.

I would suggest watching the movie if you simply can’t get to the book. Because, in Lee’s defense, he does stay true to the story, despite his weird detours and out-of place special effects.

In summary. Despite my disagreement with Yann Martel’s vision of God, I will eagerly anticipate his next book.

I think Ang Lee has run out of chances with me.

What are your thoughts? Do you prefer the book or the movie?

President Obama Adresses Planned Parenthood

I try to stay quiet on political issues on this blog, but there are just a few things that I cannot stay quiet about. Besides, it’s not hard for any regular follower to read between the lines on where I stand on many issues.

Last week President Obama took the initiative to be the first sitting president to address the controversial industry, Planned Parenthood.

He opened up commending Planned Parenthood’s historic standing as the first health clinic nearly one hundred years ago in Brooklyn, New York. (I suppose it would have been an ill-fitted reminder that Planned Parenthood was founded by a Nazi sympathizer who wanted to do away with the “black” and “yellow” peril. So I won’t hold that against him.)

He stated that Planned Parenthood has one core principle, and that is that women should be allowed to make their own decision about health.

He’s partially right, there. Women should have just as much right as men to make their own decisions about health.

Every person, man or woman, should have a right to check-ups and medical exams and, if needed, proper medical treatment. And every person does have a right, as well as accessibility – even outside of Planned Parenthood.

I understand that these things cost money, and oft-times lots of it. That’s why my wife and I save, and don’t spend frivolously, so that we have the money to go to the doctor if need be. You should check out her newest blog post about great ways to build a savings. But, unfortunately, many people believe we not only have the right to healthcare, but rather, free healthcare.

Don’t get me wrong. I applaud the cancer screenings, the counselors (hesitantly), and that insurance can no longer deny coverage because of preexisting conditions through Planned Parenthood. These are good things, and I do recognize that our healthcare system, even before Obamacare, has been seriously flawed.

Planned Parenthood provides these great services, but what is at the core of their industry?

President Obama, in his speech, never once used the word “abortion.” Instead, he replaced it with “contraceptives” at least seven times, and at the very least made two other very clear pro-abortion references (to which one of them received an overwhelming applause out of the blue) in the twelve minutes he spoke.

I dare him and Planned Parenthood supporters to use the word abortion in their talk of “birth control” and “contraceptives.” I’m not even asking that they call it murder.

I’m just asking them to call it what it is. Abortion.

Termination. Of life.

Of rights.

Termination of the right to life.

According to the president, one out of five women turn to Planned Parenthood for healthcare. For many of them, it is their primary healthcare. He pleaded for “more young women … more college students to come through [Planned Parenthood's] doors.”

So why, then, if Planned Parenthood provides free healthcare, would the president pass a law that people shall remain on their parent’s healthcare until they’re 26?

Someone should look into that.

Planned Parenthood and like institutions not only offer the services of the termination of babies, they provide life-long guilt and regret.

They rob the world of would-be greats. (Did you know Steve Jobs was almost aborted?)

They rob prospective parents of a child. (I believe the answer to saving lives is more people making their voices heard through adoption.)

This is the institution our president swore will never go away, and he will stand beside as president of the United States in every way he can. One news analyst commented that President Obama supports Planned Parenthood more than any other institution in the country.

After a few vicious jabs at the Conservative party and their efforts to stop abortion (so much for doing away with party lines, huh?), President Obama said of the current president of Planned Parenthood, Cecile Richards, “It’s the only organization she’s been at where her opponents literally get up every day trying to figure out how to keep her from doing her work.”

Count me in as one of them.

Cut the defense budget. Americans will have enough after another attack.

Keep spending our money on frivolous things. Though it will be painful, America can pay it off.

But the buck stops here at abortion. On this I cannot stay silent.

Can you?

If not, then the question I raise to you is,

What do we do?

Honest Worship, Honest Life

A.W. Tozer once said, “Christians don’t tell lies – they go to church and sing them.”

Like you, the phrase caught me off guard. But when given to deeper thought, I realized it was true.

Let’s start with the basics. A popular verse found in many Christian songs is, “I lift my hands and I sing.” (If I cited that, I would run out of room on this post.)

I know I’ve never once had my hands in the air as I sang that verse.

Oh, we can justify it all we want by saying things like, “But it’s my heart that I’m lifting up.”

Bull. God knows the difference between your heart and your hands. He also knows the difference between security and insecurity.

What about song verses like, “I lay it all down for You.”

There aren’t many times I’ve repented from things after singing songs that make those bold statements. In fact, not sure if I ever have.

Here’s the thing. We’re so concerned with looking spiritual, we’re willing to live lies in order to come across as having it all together.

Not trying to toot my own horn here, but I don’t have it all together. In fact, I’m a mess. A spiritual, emotional, (sometimes) physical mess!

There are two types of places I’ve worked at. One was corporate. The other local.

In the corporate setting, these managers did everything right and by the book. They checked and double-checked everything off their lists that they were supposed to do. They dressed properly, they blushed if they cursed, they obeyed the rules.

Until they thought no one was looking.

First, they gossiped. (That’s how I learned about all the rules they broke on a daily basis.) Online shopping on the clock, not clocking off for lunch, “borrowing” some cash from store funds, engaging in inappropriate affairs with their employees, passing their jobs off to others, shirking duties, and the list goes on.

But you’d never know it by talking to them.

Then I’ve worked for a local place, where the “corporate office” isn’t but half a rung higher than the managers on the proverbial ladder.

These guys smoke weed, curse like sailors, cheat on their taxes, and I’d not doubt for a minute that a handful of them served time.

But you know which group I like better? That’s right – this right-winged fundamentalist Christian would much rather hang out with the rap-popping, weed-smoking, beer-happy “sinners” than the uptight, stiff-necked, hypocrites of the corporate place I worked for.

Why? Because at least these rough necks aren’t hiding anything.

They’re unashamed: “Here I am; take it or leave it… foo’!”

These guys are easier to witness to. They’re not going to get all over you for being politically incorrect or cry foul to the boss because you offended them. They might not admit they need help or change in their lives, but they’re also not likely to say nothing’s wrong with them and that every thing’s fine.

But I tell you. I’m such a mess myself. I do lie every time I sing, “I give You my all,” because honestly, I don’t. I just don’t give Jesus my all. That hasn’t happened before.

I’m not saying we shouldn’t worship. I’m not berating you for singing such songs, and declaring such promises. I’m just at a point in my life where I feel dishonest singing them.

I need to get to a place where I am actually doing such things as “giving my all,” and “taking up my cross,” and being brave enough to raise my hands (only for the attention of God), and then I’ll have a better, more honest, transparent worship time.

Then maybe it will make it easier for Jesus to come minister to me. Heaven knows I’m such a mess that I need it.

Please Buy My Movies

This picture on your left, these are the movies we’re keeping.

[A link to the ones we're selling is at the bottom of this page. There are plenty to go around.]

Let me rewind.

I’ve always taken pride in my movie collections. This dates all the way back to VHS tapes when the Disney movies were more special because they’re the only ones that came in those cool rubber-smelling white cases, setting them apart from the cardboard sleeves every other movie came in.

Remember those? Yeah, they were so cool!

And alphabetizing! I love alphabetizing! When Boo knocks down Mike Wazowski’s CD’s in Monster’s Inc., I  always feel his pain because “Those were alphabetized!”

Well, as the title of my blog suggests, we’re trying to adopt a kid. We’ve got our first case study scheduled for early next month (Yeah! Progress!) and our front bedroom – soon to be our kid’s room – is a complete disaster. Check out Sarabeth’s blog post for more gruesome details on that.

One thing that’s taken up most space in our loft is movies. I was a much bigger movie buff as a bachelor than I am now – so a whopping collection of unneeded movies was part of the baggage I carried into our marriage. There are just too many that I wouldn’t care for our kids to ever come across (like The Punisher or Austin Powers in Goldmember …remember, folks: baggage), or that we just will never be bored enough to watch again (Look Who’s Talking and What About Bob?).

Well, to help create more space, we decided to get rid of the cases and just put the discs in CD holders.

Gasp!

Sarabeth’s only been suggesting this for months.

You might as well get rid of the movies, then, right? I mean, half the fun is displaying them for everyone to see, if not for a change of interior color, then they can serve as a great conversation starter for guests.

But ultimately, Sarabeth’s approach made the most sense. I mean, adoption requires some sacrifice, right?

So yesterday, I supressed my pain and just went at it without thinking. I alphabetized over 400 DVD discs and tossed their beautiful, colorful cases in the dumpster.

And I got to thinking.

The Christian life is like that a little, isn’t it? I mean, we’re all DVD discs in a way. Certainly we’re all well-rounded, right? Not to mention maybe a few scratches on us and a big God-shaped hole in the middle. (Okay, no more jokes.)

But really, we’re full of so much information. We have good moments and bad that we’ll all account for in the end. Our built-in menus are like our mood-changers, and some of us are even fluent in other languages! Some need subtitles to be understood, and others have so many special features and complexities that some therapists don’t even know where to start!

And sometimes we like the way we’ve been packaged. We’re glittery and shiny and colorful on the outside for the world to look at and be drawn to. But there’s no way for us to connect with others but to just stand up next to them, shoulder-to-shoulder.

Not much community going on there.

Until you toss the glittery exterior and make yourself – your true self – vulnerable enough to be packed in a CD case with others. Or packed into a house, or a church, or a community.

Who knows? Maybe a little of the integrity and honor of Saving Private Ryan will rub off on the sometimes sappy Titanic. (I’m not selling those, so don’t bother checking.)

Either way, because I went through the task of stripping down my DVD cases, there’s now more room for toys and a crib in our child’s room.

What will there be more room of when you decide to strip down your own fancy exterior? Who knows? Give it a try, and see what happens.

Help us make room for our child and get rid of some of this stuff by buying our unwanted movies here. (My seller user name is atoy1.) And keep checking back. I’ll be updating it for the next couple of days!

(For some reason, Amazon isn’t letting me sell a few products. I’ve got Full House seasons 1-7 – don’t ask, don’t tell – which I can sell for $15.00 each or $100 for the whole set, and Everybody Loves Raymond seasons 1-5 for $25 each or $110 for the set. Email me at andrewtoy1208@aol.com to talk business.)