the time I passed out at work. twice.

Sometimes things happen in my life that are so embarrassing, so bizarre, that I feel like I have the responsibility to share them with the people who have not given up on this blog (as I obviously have).

Like a few weeks ago, for instance. My right eye had been bloodshot for about two weeks. It finally got to the point where people were actually uncomfortable talking to me, and my jokes about smoking illegal drugs were growing stale. So I went to the doctor. The diagnosis? Staph infection. In my eye. Of course I freaked out a little bit, but the doctor acted like it wasn't a big deal and gave me some antibiotic eye drops and sent me on my way.

I got back to the office, and like any normal person, I started looking up staph infections on WebMD. I think it was around the third case study I read (about a wrestler whose staph infection in his eye spread to his brain), when my arm started to hurt. Naturally, I assumed that this was ol' staph doing his thing and spreading throughout my body.

Then came the nausea. And the black tunnel.

I fumbled to the door frame of my boss's office and mumbled a "I think I'm going to pass out" before hitting the ground. She slid me into her office to let me pass out with some dignity. I don't remember much about the next few minutes until I thought "OMG. I need to go to the restroom to vomit." I jumped up and ran away from the office and fumbled down the hallway again, this time bouncing between the walls like a pinball in the machine.

Then I passed out again in the hallway. Cold.

My only thoughts when I came to? "I'm having a bad hair day and this is NOT the way I want to look on a stretcher!" And worse: "I'm not wearing my cute undergarments!"

Seven paramedics and a complimentary barf bag later, I'm happy to report that I am not dying from staph infection. But if it was possible to die from embarrassment, I'm afraid I'd be a goner.

Tree of Life

I can be having the best day.

Work is great. Relationships, finances and health are all in tact. There is a pan of brownies in the oven. All seems right in my little world. And then BAM.

It hits me.

I'm not satisfied. And sometimes I honestly can't think of what would do the trick. Dinner with a friend? A talk with my mom or dad? Shopping? A long run (hahahaha)? Then I start to daydream. I think about traveling. Listen to my favorite music. Go on a drive. Go to Target. Buy an ice cream maker. This happens more than I'd like to admit.

I listened to a sermon by Tim Keller a few weeks ago that has stayed with me. He does an excellent job of explaining my search for satisfaction, and hopefully my brief synopsis can do it justice.

You see, it all goes back to the tree of life. Paradise. We had it. Then we lost it. This tree is discussed in Genesis, Proverbs and Revelation, and it represents fullness of life; satisfaction of all desires- creative, physical, emotional. We lost all of it when we turned to be our own masters.

"Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but longing fulfilled is the tree of life."- Proverbs 13:12

The tree of life is what we're really looking for in everything we do (job, vacation, things that promise joy). It is an image of irretrievable loss and cosmic nostalgia. We remember what we've never had.

"Our lifelong nostalgia, our longing to be reunited with something from the universe in which we now feel cut off, is no mere neurotic fantasy, but the truest index of our real situation."- C.S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory

The tree of life.

In the Garden of Eden, God says to Adam, "Obey me about the tree and you will live."

In the Garden of Gethsemane, God says to the second Adam, "Obey me about the tree and you will be crushed." Christ turned the tree of death into the tree of life for us. 


Christ is our satisfaction. 

Every time I search for pretty bedspreads on Pinterest. Every time I watch the Travel Channel. Every time I listen to that song that just makes my heart jump. I'm really aching for paradise. For Christ.

This perspective has allowed me to see things as they really are- that all of my hopes and desires are really something deeper. It has also made me evaluate where my hope truly lies. Is my hope in dainty cups and saucers from Anthopologie? They won't last. The dream job? There will always be something better. That trip to Ireland? It will come to an end.

I'm so thankful for the things and people I can enjoy on earth. But I hope I'm never completely satisfied with them. I want longing fulfilled. I want the Tree of Life.

roughin' it

I, Brittany Todd, went camping last weekend. And loved it.

Yes, you read that correctly. 

The last time I went camping was 18 years ago. In a Barbie tent in my backyard.

But this was really fun. 

The company was stellar.

And the whole "nature" thing wasn't as overrated as I expected.

As it turns out, this whole "roughin' it" thing wasn't so rough after all. I can't wait to go on another adventure (assuming the next adventure will include bathrooms). Now if you'll excuse me, Brittany Grylls is going to go hug her hair dryer. Twenty-four hours was way too long. 


Happy Trails!

waking up in April

It happens every year. The winter goes by slowly. The days are short. My toes are cold. And when I'm not sitting by my mini heater or wrestling to get into a pair of tights, I notice that my soul tends to get a little cold, too.

I find myself clinging. Holding on to His promises: that He's not through with me yet. That He will complete the good work that He started. That He won't leave me in this cold, hardened state.

And then spring comes. Sometimes sooner than I expected. And then a girl named Audrey Assad writes a song that sums up what I've been feeling for the past four months:

What if we find ourselves beneath the snow,

our warmest words all frozen in our throats

and all we feel is left out in the cold,

you and I?

What if the days grow short and lose their light,

What if the coals burn black and the embers die,

and we can't find each other in the night,

you and I?

Even the winter won't last forever

We'll see the morning, we'll feel the sun

We'll wake up in April, ready and able

Sowing the seeds in the soil

of our love

What if the ice we tread is just too thin?

What if we can't escape the squall we're in?

What if our hearts of stone are permanent?

What if the spring comes soon

and we're surprised?

What if the seasons help us realize,

some things are only proven over time?

Pretty, but they still make me nauseous.

Silly string

While I'm dealing with the seasons of my own soul, I also know that my feelings are only magnifying the much larger story that is at work.

"For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now. And not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope we were saved." Romans 8:20

The winter won't last forever. The curse has been broken. Spring is coming.

Wrong will be right, when Aslan comes in sight,

At the sound of his roar, sorrows will be no more,

When he bares his teeth, winter meets its death,

And when he shakes his mane, we shall have spring again.

- C.S. Lewis, The Chronicles of Narnia

Faux Pas in Ft. Lauderdale

I've had the wonderful opportunity to do some traveling for work lately. About a month ago I got to go to a sales meeting for one of our affiliate companies. The meeting was in Delray Beach, Florida. Sometimes you just have to make sacrifices.

I presented during four breakout sessions at the meeting. After finishing my first session, I went to go eat lunch and prepare for the next session. While thinking about my next presentation and trying to calm a little bit of nerves, I decided to slip into the ladies room in the hotel lobby for one last visit and mirror check. I had a lot on my mind at this point. What should I do differently in this session? Should I leave out the ventriloquism part this time? Was my entrance to "This is How We Do It" a little much?

As I came out of the stall, I noticed two things. 1) That sure is one masculine woman standing in front of the wall. 2) Why are there urinals in the ladies room?

Panic.

What's a girl to do when she not only enters a men's restroom, but proceeds to actually use it and then exits to find a man in action? I faced the following options:

1) Quietly go back in the stall. I could always stand on the toilet so no one would see my heels, but there is no telling how long I would have to wait if men kept coming in. Risk involved: I could miss my presentation. Or fall in the toilet.

2) Pray that Jesus comes back right that second. Downside: I would be in a men's restroom when Jesus comes back.

3) Don't think at all and draw as much attention to myself as possible: run out of the bathroom, hand over my eyes, and say "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry..." Risk involved: Man hears a girl's heels and voice and sees me. Impending embarrassment is certain.

You guessed it: I chose option 3. In my defense, I really didn't have time to weigh all of these options at the time. As it turns out, the man in the restroom was the person I had been presenting with the whole time. He was such a good sport, and had I had the choice, I couldn't have chosen someone kinder or more understanding to meet in the men's restroom. We had a good laugh about it.

Before I knew it, the story started to "leak" throughout the company. People were asking me about the "incident." Some asked if I needed help finding the ladies room. But the worst zinger of all was: "Brittany, did you wash your hands?" Of course I didn't; I had much more pressing matters at that point. I think this has brought me just as much shame as the incident itself.

I quickly realized that this story would follow me for the rest of my career/life. I've accepted and embraced it. I thoroughly enjoyed the week, and I'm thankful for the opportunity to meet such gracious and fun people. I obviously learned a lot...

...and now I'm proud to be one of the boys.