What would you do with 12.5 million dollars?

I've been wanting to watch the movie Moneyball for a while, but I haven't really had time. Yesterday I had a headache that just wouldn't go away, so I spent the evening on the couch watching the movie. It reminded me of why I both love and hate the game of baseball.

For those of you who are not fans of baseball, I apologize for this post, but as baseball, specifically Phillies baseball, is one of my loves, you are stuck with this post. I hope it will have a few redeeming thoughts for those who do not enjoy baseball as much as I do.

Baseball is heartbreaking. Watching your team lose season after season is killer, but every February when the pitchers and catchers report your heart finds a way to hope again. Watching the same teams win year after year, knowing your team has no chance because their budget is too small is awful, but one win over a big budget team still feels so good. There are so many factors that go into having a winning team and money doesn't hurt, but a general manager who knows the game inside and out, a manager who knows how to get the most out of his players, fans that keep coming to the games and packing out the seats, all these factors go into having a winning team. Baseball may be heartbreaking, but I love it just the same.

Moneyball refers more than once to baseball as a child's game, and it is. It's a game that allows us to feel that childlike sense of wonder and hope for a few hours. For a lucky few, it's a child's game that they can continue to play as adults. And, we compensate them for it tremendously. Those who excel at the game receive huge contracts and millions of dollars for the privilege of playing a child's game. One of the reasons I have a love-hate relationship with baseball is the exorbitant amount of money that is tied into this child's game. Hundred's of millions of dollars are paid by teams to the best players each year, and yet, our teachers, social workers, city and state employees, and so many other people who keep our society running work in "adult" jobs with high stress for next to no money. Somehow this just doesn't seem right. How can we pay millions of dollars to men who should consider themselves lucky that we allow them to do what they love?

Now, I'm not saying that these players don't deserve to be compensated well for the days they spend away from their families and the uncertainty of their jobs. They can be traded without notice, sent back to the minors, or not picked up by a team at all, and that can be incredibly stressful. The players who are most likely to face these stressful changes in their jobs, however, are not the ones who are paid the most money. Those players make a couple hundred grand a year, not millions. There's such a huge gap between the players who bring home big bucks and the support players who are truly playing because they love the game. I just think there ought to be a salary cap in baseball. A salary cap would make the game about the game and not (as much) about the money. A salary cap would allow teams to be more competitive. A salary cap would allow more fans to feel the hope of spring training and take the game back to even more of a child's game for all of us.

So, where does all this fit in with my original question about 12.5 million dollars? At the end of Moneyball, Billy Beane is offer 12 million dollars to be the general manager of the Red Sox. After the movie, M and I started discussing what we'd do with 12 million dollars, and I realized that I would not be particularly creative. I pay off a few loans, buy a car (something that gets top gas mileage), give a bunch away, and invest the rest. M said he'd replace our yard. I wouldn't quit my job. I wouldn't buy a bigger or better house. I'd use the money to be generous, but mostly it would just be nice to not have to think about how we'd pay for something when we needed it.

So, what would you do with 12 million dollars? And... feel free to comment on my thoughts about a baseball salary cap, too!

Relief, a little guilt, and hope

I just made a huge decision that I hope I don't regret. I decided last night (and emailed my adviser to inform her five minutes ago) that I am taking spring semester off from my seminary courses. As you might have noticed from my lack of posts in the last couple of weeks, my life has been busy. The thing is, most of the stuff that has been causing me to be busy is wonderful and I love it! But, I came to the realization over the weekend that the idea of adding weekly classes, reading, papers, and such into the busyness was causing a significant amount of anxiety for me. Making the decision to take the semester off has given me a huge amount of relief and a small amount of anxiety that I will come to regret this.

With all that has happened over the last few months, I have come to the realization that I want to choose those things that I find life giving. Right now, school is not one of them. I enjoy taking seminary courses. I really do. I do not enjoy feeling like I am behind on a deadline, trying to catch up or find time to read, rushing through my reading or my paper writing because my time is just too full, or feeling stretched too thin. It has been three months since we lost Faith and I feel like I am finally starting to return to an emotionally healthy state. I can go more than one day without crying. I have energy to do the things I enjoy. I am finally feeling happy again. Not all the time, but at least some of the time I feel happy.

I also recognize just how fragile I still feel. Every time I do something I was planning to do pregnant, every time I think about my due date approaching and wonder how I will feel, I realize that I am not yet where I want to be. I am not where I was three months ago, but I still have a long way to go. So I am choosing to move forward. I am choosing to spend my time continuing to heal and doing those things that I find life giving. Things like giving my full energy to  youth group events and teaching catechism class, to relaxing without feeling guilty that I am not working on school assignments, to having friends over to share a meal, to playing with my new sewing machine (yes, it's here!!), to spending time with my husband and my family, and to setting and achieving new goals and priorities.

I've think that I might want to remind myself in some tangible way of the choice I am making to claim life, so I've been debating a change in hair color. Just as my new red couch has brought cheer to my living room, I've been thinking about coloring my hair red or adding red highlights. J, if you're reading this, I have an appointment to have my haircut on Thursday. Let's talk about color! For everyone else, let me know what you think. Is it time to add even more color to my life? Other suggestions of tangible reminders that I am moving forward are always appreciated as well!

Even though we are nearly one month into the year 2012, I think I am finally starting to get into the spirit of and hope for the new year. Last night as we were talking about my decision to take a break from school, M asked me if "hope" is my word for the year. I realize that it's a bit ironic for someone named Hope to choose the word "hope" as her word for the year, but I guess I did without even realizing it. Here's to the year of hope! May we all find ways to embrace that which is life giving and let go of that which is not, and may we allow ourselves to trust that God is at work in the process of claiming and releasing and in all of life.

Red Couches and New Hobbies

First of all, I want to show you a few pictures of my red couch. It's a bright, sunny day here in Kansas, so if you're somewhere where it isn't sunny today, please enjoy my sunshine.

(This is how we've been keeping the couch and ottoman since we brought them home Monday.)

(This is a great position for the ottoman if you want to lounge. Just before I snapped this picture, Simon was laying on the couch with Lilly. They both seem to like it!)

(The new arrangement of furniture gives our critters the best of all possible worlds: sunshine and comfy seats!)

A few weeks before Christmas I decided I wanted to learn how to embroider. I started my first project on Christmas Day, and I have to say it's become an addictive hobby. I've already finished it. It's a tea towel.

The week my mom was here we enjoyed embroidering together. It was so much fun to sit together working on our projects. I was so excited about learning to embroider that M gave me a sewing machine for Christmas! Well, I don't have it yet, but it's coming. I'm looking forward to decorating my home with these projects.

After we lost Faith, M suggested that I needed a few new hobbies. I was at a loss as to what I might start or learn, but I did agree that I needed to try something new. Finding a project that would help me be hopeful, where I could see progress, where I could be in control, these were important pieces for me in the healing process. I had no idea just how much I would enjoy the feeling of planning and creativity and how much of my creative energy was focused so completely on welcoming our daughter into the world. I'm happy to be able to say that the hole left in my life that once was filled with plans for my daughter is slowly closing. It will never be completely healed and will always be like a tender scar that can reopen at any moment, but it's not as raw as it once was. Yay for time and new hobbies!

Change Starts Today

Last year we found out that on New Year's Day all of the Dillards' furniture that is marked as "Floor Clearance" becomes fifty percent off the lowest ticketed price for one day only. Unfortunately, we found this out too late to benefit much from the sale as Dillards allows customers to begin signing up for these items more than a week before the one day sale. This year, however, we were on top of it!

More than two weeks ago we started looking at both Wichita Dillards stores to see if there was anything we liked. On December 22nd, we put our name on a beautiful, bright red sofa and matching ottoman. Today the sofa arrived at our house thanks to a delivery by my in-laws and M. What a project this turned out to be.

My parents kindly allowed us (and even helped us!) to rearrange our living room on Thursday night in preparation for the new furniture. Today, M and my father-in-law had to figure out how to take the old couch down to the basement. It made it all the way to the basement, but it would not go around the corner until we removed the legs. One catastrophe avoided. The new sofa (did I mention that it's a sleeper sofa?) made it's way from the car trailer on which it was strapped, around the back of the house, and up onto the deck. It paused there because it seemed it might not make it through the door. After several attempts an angle was found that would allow the new couch into the house, through the dining room and right into place in the living room.

There's something hopeful and inspiring about rearranging furniture and adding new furniture to a room. Sometimes the rearranging in our lives is not by our own choice. Sometimes we are forced to rearrange to accommodate the circumstances in our lives. Other times we get to take control of the rearranging. Buying furniture is the happy kind of rearranging. For me it's also a sign that even though my life has been rearranged for me over the last months, I am determined to take back control. My bright, new couch is a sign that I am planning on having happy times come to my house this next year. There will be tears, because I have discovered my inner waterfall through the grieving process and nearly everything makes me cry (considering I had only ever cried at two movies, this is a big change). There will be fear, because who can really get through life without a little fear. But, there will also be trust and laughter and faith and reasons to rejoice. Change starts today and it starts with a new red couch!