My List of People Who Don’t Deserve Their Driver’s Licenses.

While driving today, I ran into something that I’m sure many of you can relate to:

A BBWDDHDL.

You know, a Bean Brain Who Doesn’t Deserve His or Her Driver’s License.

My BBWDDHDL was sighted on Telegraph and Erb, a busy intersection that just so happen to have a left-turn signal that’s way too short for the amount of traffic that feebly attempts to turn left on those roads. Since I often find myself sitting at that light multiple times a day, I know all of its annoying patterns–including a frequent bad habit of not cycling through properly and missing its customary left-turn signal light every few minutes.

When this happens, cars pile up like tween girls lining up for Justin Bieber autographs.

And when I see cars piling up all around me, something inside of me snaps and turns me into a complete driving mercenary. It’s every man for himself. No mercy.

For some reason, BBWDDHDLs always seem to end up first in line for the left-turn signal, and they’re never paying attention when the light does change. Which means that by the time they drag their eyes up to the light and then process the fact that “green means GO!”, the green arrow is only on for approximately five milliseconds before changing to yellow.

Which then means that twelve cars run the yellow light, and the other ninety-eight drivers who get stuck at yet another red light grit their teeth in impatience.

Undoubtably, the rest of us have places to go…and clearly, BBWDDHDL doesn’t have anything too important going on, since he can just lolligag at the light.

In my world, you would get a one-time pass for your stupidity in not watching the lights carefully when you drive. If you screw up more than once, you’re punished by being forced to take the bus everywhere for the rest of your life.

I once saw a driver doing this--while smoking a cigarette and drinking a cup of coffee--all at the same time.

And if you live in Miami, that’s sort of like a death sentence.

(We took a bus downtown on our honeymoon in Miami a few years ago…I’m still too scarred to talk about it.)

Contemplating today’s BBWDDHDL made me ponder the many different drivers I’ve observed over the last few years, who don’t deserve their licenses, either. Here’s my list, so far:

1. People who don’t look or signal before they whip into the lane in front of you (in other words, the entire state of California)

2. People who merge onto the highway going thirty miles under the speed limit

3. People who park me into my parking spaces on a constantly recurring basis (that’s you, campus security guards, Mr. UPS and Mr. FedEx)

4. People who drive while eating tacos and hamburgers

5. People who hold Mapquest directions and maps out in front of their faces while trying to drive, without asking their passengers to read the directions for them

6. People who are looking for a particular street and slam on their breaks every single time they see a street sign

7. People over the age of 85 (with the exception of Chuck Norris, when he reaches that age)

8. People who are too busy singing along to their radio to notice that they’re going slower than everyone else around them and thus holding up traffic

9. People who unknowingly box you in on both sides for miles when you’re trying to switch over to a different lane (in other words, the entire state of Wisconsin)

10. People who drive while attempting to floss their teeth

11. People who drive while holding an open mug of coffee (hello, that’s why they invented travel cups!)

12. People who drive while putting on eye makeup (didn’t we all hear the mandatory “scare you straight” story about how the teenage girl poked her eye out with her mascara wand when we went through driver’s ed?!)

13. People who speed up to pass you and then plant themselves in front of you, putting along at a speed that’s slower than yours

14. People who tap their breaks on the highway when there are clearly no deer or other small, cuddly, and killable animals in sight

15. People who lose things off of the backs of their vehicles (I once witnessed an entire bed–mattress, wooden headboard and footboard and all–fly off of a truck and obliterate a car on the highway in California)

16. People who flick cigarette butts and other trash out of their windows

17. People who turn on their window washing sprayers while I’m sitting behind them on a nice summer day with my windows open

18. People who let more than one car out of a parking lot when fifteen thousand of us are playing by the “one at a time” rule, trying to get out of the stadium

19. People who pull up to the stop sign before you, and then wave you through (again, driver’s ed, anyone?)

20. My neighbor, who thought it appropriate to park his motorcycle in the prime parking spot right in front of our parking complex…for an entire winter.

Well, there you have it, folks. I’ll be happily driving alongside the 10% of the population who hasn’t committed one of these offenses, I hope.

The rest of you should probably stay off the road completely.

4 Hours of Sleep + Russian Accents + Raps about Nuns = Quite the Memorable Weekend

It’s a rare thing for me to get only four hours of sleep for two nights in a row, and still come home so amped that I can’t even calm myself down enough to sit down and relax.

Unless it just so happens that I’m involved in something that is my absolute passion.

Like this last weekend, when I was at the 2011 Peer Ministry Training Retreat.

Oh, goodness. The glory of the weekend was unparalleled—except, perhaps, if I would’ve spent an entire week in Venice, eating sushi and listening to piano solos while sitting outside in my flip-flops and drinking caramel macchiatos.

Not possible on my paycheck, friends. Don’t worry. I’ll settle for what truly was an incredible weekend instead.

Imagine 23 of the brightest, most compassionate, caring, driven teen leaders you know, coming together alongside a team of committed, knowledgeable professionals for an entire weekend away at a retreat center out in the country.

Picture all of these kids learning practical counseling skills, coupled with intentional leadership development techniques, and watching them practice what they’re learning on each other, right in front of you.

Visualize all of these teens sitting together in a darkened chapel, singing “Amazing Grace” together, praying for each other, and sharing the Lord’s Supper together.

Envision these strangers becoming close friends in just a few days, hugging each other on the last evening and exchanging phone numbers and Facebook names and posing for goofy pictures—all while lingering, because they don’t want to go home just quite yet.

Oh, forget it. I can’t even paint a picture of how wonderful and inspiring the weekend was with mere words. Just trust me—it was amazing.

I don’t often get the opportunity to immerse myself completely in something I enjoy so much. I’m always racing around, running events and preparing leaders and making copies and instructing kids, juggling the responsibility of big programs and lots of leaders. It’s not that I don’t like my job—I do.

It’s that I’ve found something that gives me life, something that I could do every moment of every day and I would never get tired of doing it…and that thing is investing in this next generation of student leaders.

As trite as it may sound, I can’t think of any better way to help make this world a better place than by investing in shaping the future of our teenagers, who are our hope for the future.

And honestly, I think we are at a pivotal brink in history where our most important focus should be on our future and the future faith leaders of this world. As Gabe Lyons says in The Next Christians, “This moment is unlike any other time in history. Its uniqueness demands an original response. If we fail to offer a different way forward, we risk losing entire generations to apathy and cynicism. Our friends will continue to drift away, meeting their need for spiritual transcendence through other forms of worship and communities of faith that may be less true but more authentic and appealing.”

After all, if we don’t care about this next generation, who will guide them in an increasingly complex and muddy world? How will they grow into morally upright adults in an age of no absolute truth, no expectations, and no direction? How can we expect them to influence the world positively when they’ve never had someone tear them away from their texts and their laptops and their iPods and plant a serious thought in their brains?

That’s our calling.

I realized this weekend that I’m willing to give up every dream and aspiration I’ve had for my life, in order to empower this future generation—if that’s what God requires of me.

Besides, how often do you get to see students speaking in horrible Russian accents, break dancing in conference rooms, climbing trees like monkeys, throwing each other into the pool, rapping made-up songs about nuns, and crying as they pray for each other and hugging like best friends all in the course of one weekend?

Not too often.

Oh, and the now infamous nun-rapping student, whose hit ditty is being quoted by every student at the retreat?

One of mine, of course.

That One Time I THOUGHT About Stealing a Bike…From a Child.

Have you ever had one of those moments where you realize that you could do something really zany and unpredictable, but you hold yourself back?

Oh, come on. I can’t be the only one.

You know, it’s that feeling you get when you’re carefully tending to a gigantic bonfire. You sit there, mesmerized by the scorching flames, and suddenly you’re struck with the thought:

“I could totally stick my leg in here and melt my foot right off in a matter of seconds.”

Or, that feeling you get while driving next to a cliff. You know, that wicked inner prompting that says, “All I would have to do is swerve my car a few feet to the right, and I’m toast.”

Fine. I know you’ve all had these thoughts. You just don’t want to admit it—because then you’ll sound as crazy as me.

This weekend, I had one of these bizarre moments where I could have done something utterly unpredictable, but I didn’t.

It was a beautiful weekend, so I threw on the dogs’ leashes and headed down to the local park. (Well, that’s not entirely accurate–that description makes it sound like it’s easy to leash up two dogs whose biggest joy in life is to jump. Hooking them up to their leashes is more like trying to tame two rabid monkeys who have escaped from the circus and are bent on destroying a small village as quickly as they can.)

We were about halfway into our two-mile walk on a lovely little path, when a young boy came racing up behind me on his bicycle. He slowed his bike down until he was riding alongside me, and said very matter-of-factly:

“Your dogs are adorable.”

I laughed, and said, “Thanks.”

Watch out! I'm desperate!

I expected this young gentleman to race off and continue his crazed bicycle competition with an imaginary opponent. Instead, he surprised me and rode his bike next to me…for the next mile or so.

Now, I’ve said this before—I don’t know what it is, but strange children literally find me and follow me around all the time when I’m out in public. This is not an isolated incident, as odd as it sounds. In a way, I suppose it’s a good validation of my job, which is working with kids. But it’s still a bit disconcerting.

I asked this young man where his parents were. He vaguely motioned behind him and said, “Oh, back there somewhere.”

Oh. Ok. I’m glad they’re so trusting of a complete stranger.

It was about at that moment when I thought to myself, “I could totally steal this kid’s bike, and no one would even notice.”

No—am I that evil? Would I ever in a million years actually steal a bike? Not at all. I’ve experienced the pain of having my bike stolen—I would never do that to a child. Or anyone else, for that matter.

But when your dogs are dragging you along uphill and weaving this way and that in their trademark Australian Shepherd madness, you apparently daydream about stealing someone’s bicycle and ditching your dogs with a nine-year-old child so that you don’t have to put up with them sniffing and crossing in and out between your legs incessantly for the next mile.

Don’t worry. I didn’t steal his bike. But the actual end of the story is a bit stranger.

As I neared the end of the trail, the boy’s sister came flying by us on her bike. She was just a streak of blonde hair and tie-dyed cotton. As she zoomed by, her brother shouted her name and hollered, “No fair!”

What?!

I know her!

Wait…I know the sister of a random kid at the park?

Really–what are the chances?

I turned to my new friend and nearly gave him a heart attack by recounting everything I knew about his sister. I then revealed that we went to the same church, and that his older sister was in my youth group.

He then spontaneously smiled up at me and said, “Yeah, I figured you were cool. I saw your cross key chain and thought, ‘She must be alright’.”

Good. I’m glad that this little dude based his perceptions of a total stranger on my key chain. That’s very wise.

We laughed, and I later introduced myself to their mother. What started out as a very peculiar situation—a total stranger riding his bike next to me for so long—turned into a funny and endearing story that speaks to the small town in which we live.

And today, while up at the elementary school where I tutor at once a week, I saw my bicycle-riding little buddy walking in the hall.

It made me smile and think to myself, “It’s a small and strange world…here in Oakville, anyway.”

“In Cassie I Trust”…Too Often.

Writing is difficult.

In order to be an effective writer, you have to be transparent. Authentic. True. Open. Brutally honest.

I’ve now had my blog here for a little over a year, but I’m still constantly surprised by how many people read it. And by the many adults and kids alike who quote me to myself. It’s an odd thing to know that people get this glimpse into my brain. And it’s sometimes disconcerting to know that my feelings are splashed out there, for all to read.

But, I do believe that God has not called us to live life in the shadows, but out in the light. The world would be a much different place if we all actually shared what we were thinking and feeling.

So, in the spirit of transparent, brutal honesty, I write this post today. Picture me unscrewing the top of my head and letting you take a peek at the frothy, swirling mass inside my brain.

I was reading something by C.S. Lewis yesterday, and it really spoke to me:

“Your real, new self (which is Christ’s and also yours, and yours just because it is His) will not come as long as you are looking for it. It will come when you are looking for Him.

Does that sound strange? The same principle holds, you know, for more everyday matters. Even in social life, you will never make a good impression on other people until you stop thinking about what sort of impression you are making.

Even in literature and art, no man who bothers about originality will ever be original whereas if you simply try to tell the truth (without caring twopence how often it has been told before) you will, nine times out of ten, become original without ever having noticed it.

The principle runs through all life from top to bottom, Give up yourself, and you will find your real self.

Lose your life and you will save it.

Submit to death, death of your ambitions and favourite wishes every day and death of your whole body in the end submit with every fibre of your being, and you will find eternal life.

Keep back nothing.

Nothing that you have not given away will be really yours. Nothing in you that has not died will ever be raised from the dead.

Look for yourself, and you will find in the long run only hatred, loneliness, despair, rage, ruin, and decay.

But look for Christ and you will find Him, and with Him everything else thrown in.”

Lewis wrote these words in Mere Christianity just for me, I’m pretty sure.

I’m driven, hardworking, and ambitious. I’m always looking miles ahead, constantly pondering the future and calculating where I’ll be going.

In GOD we trust...not in ourselves.

I know this seems absurd, but I actually process an entire route to a store or school in my head with lightning-fast speed as I’m starting out on the trek. That way, I can be as efficient as possible by staying in the exact lanes I’ll need to be in, in order to make all of my twists and turns without wasting a single second.

Someone once told me that I embody all the traits of a classic German girl: blonde hair, blue eyes, porcelain skin, a hardworking nature, stubbornness, and a high degree of efficiency.

The same person told me that the latter traits are also true of German cars, for what it’s worth.

It’s scarily accurate.

However, at the point I’m at in my life right now, I can’t look ahead. I can’t plan it all out and pursue it with zeal and drive. And it’s terrifying me.

I’m a planner. I want to know what lane I need to be in. I want to know exactly where to turn. I want to know how long I’ll be on the road.

And God is saying, “No. I’m driving. Sit back.”

Maybe that’s why these wise words from Lewis spoke to me yesterday: “Look for yourself, and you will find in the long run only hatred, loneliness, despair, rage, ruin, and decay. But look for Christ and you will find Him, and with Him everything else thrown in. “

As an ambitious, driven young person, it’s oh-so-easy to look for myself. It’s a constant struggle I deal with. Often, I feel like the career I chose let everyone down. All my life, I was the “smart one”, the “talented one”, the “go-getter” who was going places–and now I’m the broke, apartment-dwelling youth leader who has no idea where she’ll be living or what she’ll be doing in a year, after Tyler finishes seminary and we move to the place that the Sem will tell us to go to.

However….

“Look for Christ and you will find Him, and with Him everything else thrown in. “

I know that’s true. It’s just that trusting myself is so much easier than trusting God, sometimes.

Can anyone else relate?

Neighbors With a Death-Wish and Bipolar Sewers…Odd, but True.

I’ve seen a lot of things in my short life.

Never have I seen grown men actually trying to sled in an icy apartment complex…as they’re being pulled around the parking lot by a giant pick-up truck.

Until tonight.

They’ve circled around the building three times now in what I can only guess is a cabin-fever induced scheme that was fueled by plentiful consumption of alcohol. For that, I’m sure  we can thank the weathermen who whipped the entire state of Missouri into a frenzy over the course of the last few days, warning us about the epic “Snowpocalypse 2011″ blizzard that was headed our way today.

The entire city of St. Louis shut down, and police warned people to “not even think about traveling the roads”.

Well, maybe that’s not an exact quote–but that’s basically what the translation to the general public was.

Entire shelves of meat, bread, and milk were cleaned off at every area grocery store. Schools, universities, and businesses were closed just based on the forecast, before a single flake hit the ground. The National Guard was called in, and some parts of the state declared a state of emergency this morning as they received 10-16 inches of snow today.

As for us, down south of the city of St. Lou, we received about a half-inch of ice and a piddly few inches of ice pellets, topped off by another fine coating of ice.

Snowpocalypse 2011. Huh.

Guess the neighbors are merely trying to make this a memorable snow day–and what better way to make it memorable than roll

Is it TOO obvious if I put this out in the parking lot?

over one of their friends’ bodies with a two-ton truck?

“Hey guys, remember that crazy snowstorm in 2011, when we accidentally severed Johnny’s left arm and didn’t have the presence of mind to stop our idiocy until Timmy fell off the truck bed and slammed into the ice-covered concrete? That rocked!”

(….and this is why I could never even think about joining a sorority or fraternity…)

Speaking of seeing a lot of strange things in my life, I logged in to my blog tonight and perused the list of search terms that people have used this week to find my blog. I can’t see who exactly is searching, but I get a kick-back on all of the terms put in–for instance, “Cassie Moore” or “Christian youth leader” or “creepy clowns” are frequent terms listed on my page.

Tonight, however, someone apparently connected to my blog by using a search term that I’ve never seen before:

Bipolar sewer Cassie Moore’s blog.

Uh, what?

Let’s take another look at that search term:

Bipolar sewer Cassie Moore’s blog.

Hm….as vast and creative as my imagination is, I just can’t figure out how on earth someone managed to string those words together with my name.

I’m not even sure if I should be offended or not.

Maybe somewhere out in that big world is another Cassie Moore, who’s bipolar and lives in a sewer. Maybe she blogs about her rat friends and the scraps of waste she sneaks out of the garbage cans to eat every day. Or maybe she manages a sewing company called “Bipolar Sewer?” Perhaps she knits sweaters and caps in contrasting colors–a “bipolar” color scheme?

I should connect with this doppelgänger. Maybe she wants to go sledding with our neighbors…who are currently on lap 11 around the parking lot, in case you’re keeping track.

Here they go again…lap 12….

13….

14….