The only certainty is bad grammar

I’m back from the mission trip, which was all of the following: Awesome, amazing, intense, life-changing, exhausting, hot, fun, emotional, wonderful, joyful, in Oklahoma, 106 degrees, on air mattresses, long car ride, fantastic.  (More to come on all that soon).

We got back Friday at about 11 p.m., and then I seriously slept all day Saturday. Seriously. I only got up to eat and pee. True story.

Then, I literally did church stuff from 8:30 a.m. through 9 p.m. Sunday, with just one total break-down, which I maintain was legitimate.

And today, I’m diving back into the daily candy grind.

Sometime this week I’ll post all the gushy details from the trip that are fit to print, and a slew of my favorite pictures.

For now though, let me just say that picking up trash on the side of an Oklahoma highway without one of those sticks that normal people use, during the last hours of the last work day of the week while it was 106 degrees and grasshoppers the size or  rats flew out of the fields every time you took a step was the second hardest thing I have ever done.

The first was motivating the kids to do the same.

So, a little fight usually goes on between me and God when He wants me to do stuff. Big stuff, like change the world and work for good and spread love, and whatnot. The problem is, he always ask us to do such hard things. Just once, I like him to ask me to do something easy, like watch a marathon of West Wing episodes.

Anyway, 11 months ago, when I first started as the youth director at Crossroads of Faith UMC, it went something like this:

Him: Crystal, I want you to plan a mission trip for these youth.

Me: Um, what now? No thanks.

Him: I’m serious, you need to do this. You have to trust me.

Me: But, um, these guys haven’t done a mission trip in a hot minute, and I just started, and nobody would really notice if I didn’t plan one, and I’m tired, so ya, I think I’ll pass.

Him: No. You have to do this. You know they are life-changing, you know they are powerful, you know that these kids are bursting with a need to go on one, and you know you can do this.

Me: No, really. I’m tired.

Him: I will give you strength.

Me: Fine. I will sign us up. But if this doesn’t go well, it’s on you.

Him: It’ll go well.

Seven months ago:

Me: All right God, I’m planning this thing and bunch of people at this church are looking at me like I’m nuts and none of the kids will commit and I don’t know where the money is going to come from. Are you sure about this?

Him: I’m sure. Trust me.

Me: Seriously God, I’m on the line here. This is a lot of money, and these kids think I’m nuts.

Him: It will be all right. Trust me.

Me: But I’m STRESSED OUT about raising the money.

Random email literally later that night: Hi Crystal! Our committee would like to donate to the mission trip. How much money do you still need? Signed, Awesome people.

Me: (Sigh). Fine.

Five months ago:

Me: Seriously God, I still have a lot of spots left. And I’m still really worried about the funding. Are you sure this is your will? Because if it’s not, just let me know an I’ll cancel the whole thing.

Random woman at church, three minutes later: Hey Crystal, I was wondering if I could donate to the mission trip. Who should I make the check out to? (true story).

Me: Fine, God. You win this round.

One month ago:

Me: Um, God, I no longer have any adult volunteers except for myself. And I have a handful of spots left and I’M FREAKING OUT!!!!

Him: Trust me. This will work out.

This week:

An awesome set of adult volunteers came together, including a church leader who will be bringing his grandson and my mom (hi mom!). And, assuming everyone who told me they were going goes, 15 kids are signed up. AND, after a slew of fundraisers over the last couple months (including, but not limited to: a church yard sale (those things are A LOT OF WORK), a Mother’s Day flower pot sale, a water bottle/parking event and a pancake breakfast), we have nearly all the money we will need.

Now we just have to get ourselves to Oklahoma. I have a feeling God will work that out though.

It’s not too late to donate to this amazing cause. (We could still use about $1,000 for gas). If you’re interested, please send a check to

• Attn: Crystal Lindell,
• Crossroads of Faith UMC,
• 1570 Rodeo Dr. Bolingbrook, Il.
• 60490.

Make it out to Crossroads of Faith UMC and put “mission trip” in the memo line.

Me and God thank you.

OMG!! OMG!! OMG!! There is finally verdict (ish) in the Blagojevich trial!!

In less than two hours we will finally, sort of, maybe find out this man’s fate!!!

Holla!!

It seems like just yesterday that it was 2005, and he was still an under-the-radar narcissist working in the capitol, and I was but a lowly intern stalking him for quotes at discrete back-door entrances to underground tunnels. Him, donning his forceful press secretary and blacker than black, black hair; me with my uncomfortable heels and a need to please my boss by getting even one word on the record.

Oh how I still vividly remember, where I gang-banged him with a slew of real reporters, as we huddled around him hoping against hope that we would get a quote or three. One time, I actually dropped my digital recorder, and he stopped everything so he could lean over, pick it up, and hand it to me.

Those were the days man.

And then, wow, I can still remember every stunning detail about his near-jail experience. There I was scrolling through an early morning breaking news alert on my pink blackberry (what ever happened to Blackberry?) while I sat on the toilet. Blagojevich Arrested.  Dec. 9, 2008.

Woah.

Has it been two and a half years already, dude? Where does the time go?

No lie, it was pretty disappointing last time we were told of an impeding verdict.  Really jurors? All you could agree on was one freaking count? Really? For shame.

Now though, it seems as though the latest round of jurors has agreed on 18 glorious counts! How splendid!

I simply cannot wait to find out whether or not Blagojevich will be spending time in jail or on some sort of reality show in the fall. Could go either way, you know.

Personally, I’m rooting for an appearance on “The Voice.” That, or “Survivor,” would be Bleepin’ Golden.