It was softball night tonight. I’m positively pooped–not to mention sore as all get out. An appropriate quote from my friend: “It’s like my mind says ‘uh-huh’ and my body says ‘What?!’”

I don’t get it. I thought I had AT LEAST ten more years before this happened. Geez, I turn 30 and everything starts goin’ downhill. How encouraging.

By the way, have I mentioned that I hate losing?

My husband and I are not gift-givers. We don’t get each other gifts for birthdays, Father’s/Mother’s Day, anniversaries, Valentine’s Day etc. We do give each other cards, but not gifts. Some can’t get over it. Well, there are two reasons for this. First, gifts are not part of our love languages. (If you don’t know about love languages, check out the book The Five Love Languages: How to Express Heartfelt Commitment to Your Mate by Gary Chapman.) Second, we’re just plain cheap.

But anyway, here’s a gift idea that I think is quite cool–something Amy Gahran, author of the blog CONTENTIOUS gave to her husband. She arranged for one of her husband’s favorite authors to call him on his birthday for a brief conversation. Apparently it was quite a hit and the conversation lasted over an hour. Anyway, she gives some tips on how to pull it off yourself. Doesn’t seem very hard to do…if you’re one of those gift-giving types anyway.

Just thought I’d remind all you who have the privilege of hangin’ out with the kids for the summer that there just might be a movie theater in your town offering free movies a few mornings a week.

In our case, it’s Regal Cinemas. (As I write, their page for the Free Family Film Festival is not up-to-date although you can find the phone number for the closest Regal Cinema near you.)

Apparently our choices for this week (at least in our neck of the woods) are Chicken Run and Shrek 2. I know nothing about either movie but at this point I’m just eager to spend some time in the air conditioning.

Random thought of the moment: How much do you think it costs to make a penny? I wonder if it’s worth it.

Anyway, I just picked up a book called The Comfort Trap or, What If You’re Riding a Dead Horse? by Judith Sills, Ph.D. (Just feeling like I should include the Ph.D. part. Goodness knows she spent a lot of time and money to be able to put those three letters behind her name. I think she deserves the recognition. I’m feeling a little sassy about it–I don’t know why. It’s probably because I’m jealous. I wish I could put those three little letters behind my name. Amy Andrews, Ph.D. Looks good, doesn’t it?)

Alright, back to the book. As the title suggests, it’s about getting yourself out of a rut. The first sentence on the book jacket is “What would you do if you weren’t afraid?” And if you’re me, how can you NOT want to read this book? This is the story of my life. Yes, I think my horse is as dead as a doornail.

I’m only on page 36 so I can’t say much, but I like it so far. My only issue so far is that I can’t figure out if she’s advocating (or at least justifying) having an affair because it typically indicates someone is living “outside of their comfort zone.” I’ll have to keep you posted on this.

Anyway, I’ve got to say, Judith comes out with some really great quotes. There are some real doozies in there. Let me share…

We are the rocks we are pushing uphill—if and when we choose to make the push.

These [Oprah, Madonna, Scarlett] are people who make life happen, rather than waiting to see what happens.

We need to be comfortable to live fully, yet if we’re too comfortable, something essential dies. A life that is too much work erodes the body, but one that requires too little effort depletes the soul.

What was once motivating has turned mysteriously flat, done with. Your life has run out of soul and there is no obvious refueling station.

…stretch out past your zone and you will get a jolt of anxiety that will certainly get your attention [been there, am there]…anxiety is the invisible fence that bounds all of our lives.

The glory of self-propelled change—whether you want to stop smoking, stand up to your mother, get yourself back to school or out of it once and for all—is that you do not have to find all the energy, day after day, to confront the invisible fence of anxiety on your own. True, you must tote the burden of your fear and your ambivalence and the inevitable pain of loss up some psychological mountain. But the trick is to give this burden a little shove over the edge of your psychic cliff so it will tumble onto new ground of its own momentum, carrying you along with it. That little shove—in the form of one small step outside your comfort zone—will set in motion all the other changes to which you aspire.

She’s on to something here. It’d be absolutely brilliant if she’d include the transforming power of God in it all, but anyway…

So. There you have it. Deep thoughts. I’m afraid I’m unable to expound on them at the moment. It’s much too late. My horse is dead and so am I.

My daughter plays the violin and has been doing so for the last year and a half. Tonight was her end-of-year concert at which she was recruited to play the theme song from Beauty and the Beast along with several other girls. The first time she saw the song was when she was on stage playing it.

So we were talking about it after the concert. I asked her if it was hard to play.

“I didn’t know how to play it,” she said, “so I just played my own notes.”

You go girl.

Not sure why this struck me so funny. (Takes a minute to download with broadband. Dial-up will take longer.)

This day does not pass without deep gratitude for the amazing men God has put in my life.

I encounter people regularly for whom Father’s Day brings nothing but pain, resurrecting memories of what wasn’t or what could have been. I am fully aware that countless people have a gaping hole in the place where a loving, encouraging, supportive father should have resided.

It’s a day like this that I feel both extraordinarily grateful and yet almost guilty that God, for reasons unbeknownst to me, has blessed me with a husband, a father and a father-in-law who are truly good.

My husband is someone I can depend on; he’s full of integrity, passionately pursuing Jesus and committed wholeheartedly to me, our marriage and our family. He cares for us, supports us, provides for us and serves as an anchor when the winds of life tug at our sails.

My dad is wise beyond words, fully accepting and unconditional in his love. His support is unwavering and his delight in his children and grandchildren is genuine and deep.

My father-in-law is quiet in strength, yet courageous in life. He’s reassuringly steady, unreservedly generous and exceptionally supportive (even when we moved his only two grandchildren to the other side of the country).

In a time when there is much talk about deadbeat dads, absent fathers, single mothers, fatherless children, etc., these men give me hope. Despite their imperfections, despite their mistakes, despite their failures, they each have persevered, holding firm to their commitments as husbands, as fathers and as men of God. And by their lives, they encourage me to press on despite my weaknesses, my mistakes and my failures. I am truly blessed among women.

We’ve had an ongoing discussion in our house lately about unconditional love. The concept has not been a particularly easy one for my daughter to grasp but I think we made some major headway yesterday.

We went to the park but when it was time to leave, she was not very cooperative. Some consequences were in order, which would be given upon our arrival home. The drive home was a gift (albeit a teary one) as we discussed the matter of unconditional love. It went something like this:

“Mommy, I’m really, really sorry for not being a good listener. I hate it when I do that. I’ll never, ever do it again. Will you forgive me?”

“Yes, Sweetie, I forgive you.”

“Are you still going to give me consequences?”

“I know you’re sorry and I do forgive you. When we make bad choices, though, we still have to suffer the consequences. So, yes, I will still give you consequences when we get home. I love you very much and consequences this time will help you remember to make good choices next time.”

“You love me even when you give me consequences?”

“Yes. I will never stop loving you. I love you when you make good choices and I love you when you make bad choices.”

“Would you love me even if I kill someone?”

“Well, Peanut, I’m not worried about that because I know you would never kill someone. But, yes, even if you did kill someone, I would still love you. I would be angry. I would be very sad. I would be disappointed. But I would still love you.”

Because why? Because that’s how God love’s me and I’m obligated to do the same.

I got glasses recently. I need them for reading, so they tell me. I’m a little bitter about it.

I told my neighbor about ‘em. She said, “Wow. That usually doesn’t happen until you’re about 40.” And thank you very much for that encouraging little tidbit.

I don’t wear them because my other friend said the more I wear them, the more I’ll need them. But my husband isn’t cool with that. He wants me to wear them as much as possible but something tells me it’s not because he’s concerned about my eyes. I think he just wants to get his money’s worth. He’s got a point.

When I had to choose the frames, the guy at the store asked me what kind I wanted. I’ve never had glasses before. I had no idea so I said, “I don’t care. I just want them to make me look smart.” Heck, if I’ve got to wear glasses, I might as well look intelligent.

Speaking of intelligent. If you’d like to find cheap gas in your area, check out GasBuddy.com.

There is clearly no relation between these two subjects. This is what happens when one’s brain suffers the effects of lack of sleep. At least that’s what I’d like to think anyway. Maybe I’m just getting old…

My daughter (who just turned 5) wanted to play a particular game on the computer. For several reasons, I told her I had to think about it.

“Well,” she says, “make sure you think about saying yes. And make sure you don’t think about saying no.”