Two Days Down...

This is one of those weeks when I'm praying my way through each day. Not that it's a bad week. It's actually a fun one! But it's so blessed busy!

I did a fairly stupid thing Monday evening and went for my walk out in the rather chilly wind. I could have gone to the gym. I should have gone to the gym. But I walked outside instead, and when I think about how little rest I'll be getting this week, I worry that the combination will land me in the sick-house. No time for that!

Last night some friends came over for dinner. The friends with my little kiddos. I just love those guys. I got to hold the baby, who is so much bigger than the last time I saw him. When they brought him in, I said, "Oooh he's got a double chin now!" I'm not nearly so excited about my own double chin. :)

So I fed the baby and snuggled with him. He's a good little snuggler. And I listened to Liam proclaim that the reason he couldn't finish his dinner was because he was allergic to all the food. He's 3. Where does he come up with this stuff? And Savannah made me an entire "dinner" out of orange copy paper. She cut out all the dishes and the food - and I have to say, the food looked like what she said it was supposed to be! My favorite part was when she came running to me with the food, announcing, "Hi, I'm your waitress!" She put the food down in front of me, looked over the spread, and said, "Oops, I must have dropped something. Hang on!" She disappeared for a moment, and then I heard, "Corn! Coming right up!" So that's what really goes on when I don't get everything I order at a restaurant.

So now I'm on to the next day (provided I ever actually stop typing and start doing the hair). Much to do today as well. Happy Wednesday to you!

Bits for Sunday, September 27, 2009

If you haven’t had the (mis)fortune of seeing me in the last 12 hours…or you haven’t read the post below in that amount of time, you might not know one very key piece of information: I got to see David Phelps in concert last night!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yes, that was an overuse of exclamation points. No, I do not care.

I don’t remember who first told me that David would be in Wabash, but once I heard, I think I heard from no less than a couple dozen people. I really do appreciate how people keep up on my celebrity preferences and allow me to participate anytime an opportunity presents itself. At first I didn’t think I’d go. I know… such words shock the soul. But I figured I’d be busy or it would be expensive or whatever. And then I said, “REBEKAH! This is DAVID PHELPS. Get yourself online and buy tickets.” So I did.

Second row.

Then I started worrying about my tickets in the event of a fire. I prayed over the safety of those tickets – and don’t you even think I’m kidding. I bought a new outfit for the occasion – which you read about a couple of weeks ago, come to think of it. Friday night when I came home from work, I tried it on and hated it. Had no idea why I bought it. So I went shopping for a new one. Two hours later, I came home empty-handed. After the Friday I had, I’m not sure what made me think there would be anything successful about a shopping trip. So I dug through my closet, found an ensemble, and declared it good enough. (Good enough…those words are part of one of David’s songs….but I digress.)

So the day of the concert came and I was a chatty Cathy nervous wreck. I didn’t eat much, I forgot to drink much – which was good, since that only leads to bathroom breaks, and who has time when David Phelps is in concert?

My patient and very wonderful concert buddy, Ronda, and I arrived in plenty of time to scope out our great seats, which were even better than I thought they would be. They raised the orchestra pit and put three rows of seats there. So we were in front of the actual front row. Bring it ON!!

The concert was nothing short of amazing, as I knew it would be. He hit all his high notes and I sang (inside…I hope) with his background vocals and took fuzzy pictures and squealed upon occasion. I won’t lie. After it was over, I stood in line to meet him, and I was so busy telling stories to Ronda that I forgot to prepare a speech. That could have been disastrous, given my track record with such moments, but I managed to stay fairly stupid instead of incredibly stupid, so I was pleased.

Oh, and did I mention we had our picture taken together? Let me know if you’d like an 8x10. (Dad, Mom declined my earlier offer, but if you’d like one for the house…say maybe over the fireplace?...just let me know, okay?)

I came home, and I’m not sure if it was the concert or the 32 ounce coke I drank on the way home (at 11 pm) that got me, but I was still awake and bouncing off the walls at 2. Woops.
I tell you all of that because this is my story and I can, but I also tell you because I want you to know that when I wrote in my prayer journal last night, I told God I was super sorry for all my ridiculousness, but I was very thankful for the opportunity to have such a fun night.

I have friends who don’t have jobs. I talk to parents every day who have no idea how they’re going to pay for college – or maybe even the electric bill. I read blogs about people my age who have serious illnesses – or their kids have serious illnesses – that totally consume every moment of their lives.

Those sorts of things don’t leave my mind very often and when I’m able to dress up (even if it’s in the Plan B outfit) and hop in the car with a good friend and have a complete blast on the second row of a concert, I’m very thankful. I try to savor every moment because my turn could be coming. The day when my life will be consumed by something else, and if that moment does come, I want to be able to say I enjoyed the great moments to the fullest when I had the opportunity.

(For more of my concert experience, please scroll down....)

I Interrupt My Normal Classy Posts...

Because there are many (okay, perhaps a few) of you who read my blog that don't know me in real life, I try really hard to maintain a certain amount of class and dignity in what I post here.

All that is about to fly out the window.

Because you see...

...tonight...

...this was on my schedule:


I read a lot of blogs written by people who are die-hard, "SHUT UP!!!" David Crowder fans. I am such a fan about David Phelps. HUGE, HUGE fan. I get ridiculous when his songs come on the radio. I know them all by heart - including the parts for the background vocalists. Anyway, so I've been a mess all day long. SO excited.

This is my friend Ronda, who graciously agreed to be my concert buddy. I have warned her for weeks on end that I am RIDICULOUS. She still said she wanted to go, and boy am I glad she did. I don't think anyone else could have put up with me.

Did I mention the seats were SECOND ROW?? And did I mention that the second row was in the raised orchestra pit?? I knew the seats were going to be good. I did not know they were going to be THAT good. We were totally in the spit zone.

We were not allowed to use flash for pictures, so all of mine are blurry, but I don't care. They are scrappable and that is all that matters! :) He did great songs. Not that he has bad ones. But I was super excited!

And the crowning moment.......

I have a rather horrible track record of making a perfect idiot of myself in situations like this, and I have to say on the grand scale of Bekah-meeting-singers, this was one of my better ones. Not a stunningly graceful encounter, but better than some of the stuttering, sweat-filled miserable chats I've had in the past.

And I'm just glad to have something to replace the six year old picture we had taken at the last concert I went to. In those days, I had super short blonde hair.

Pumpkin Cookies

Though we may not want to admit it, fall is here, so I thought it was time to break out a good old fall recipe. Last Sunday I decided to get out all the fall decorations and give the house a mini-makeover. To get in the spirit, I fixed some chai and made a batch of these cookies. The house smelled so good and I was all ready for the leaves and Indian corn and fake pumpkins.

I got this recipe a couple of years ago from my good friend Rachel, who worked in my office until just recently. She is an amazing cook. I miss her on office carry-in days! (Well, I miss her every day, but I miss her cooking on the carry-in days.) When she brought this to work, she promised it was very easy to make, and she wasn't kidding. Our only disagreement lies in the very end of the cookie. Her recipe says "sprinkle powdered sugar on top of cookie when cool."

I'm sorry...what? Did you mean slather with cream cheese frosting? Yes, I thought so.

The Recipe

1 yellow cake mix
2 eggs
1/3 cup of flour
1/4 cup of oil
3/4 can of pumpkin
2 teaspoons pumpkin pie spice

Mix all ingredients and drop by teaspoonful on greased baking sheet. Bake for 10 minutes at 350.

I found out from my Mom that apparently pumpkin comes in multiple can sizes. The size can you need for this is the one that's about the size of the soup can. (See, when you shop at Aldis, you don't get choices like multiple sizes of pumpkin cans.)


I mix together the cake mix, flour, oil, and eggs first.

It becomes a very thick consistency.

Then I add the pumpkin and the pumpkin pie spice. My mom thought it was "too" spicy, but I don't agree. I guess if you're not used to extra kick, use a little bit less spice?

It will resemble a very thick cake batter. It will be gooier (is that a word?) than a normal cookie dough.

Make sure you grease the pan! The cookies will stick if you don't.

They really don't look much different when they come out of the oven.

I usually get close to four dozen cookies with this recipe. And of course - you can "sprinkle with the powdered sugar" OR YOU CAN SLATHER ON THE FROSTING! Not that I would try to persuade you in any certain direction....

I Am Not Clair Huxtable

I'm watching the Cosby Show right now - the one where Denise makes a shirt for Theo's date - and it doesn't even resemble a shirt when she's done. I feel her pain. That's how my sewing would look. After my last curtain making project, I may never sew again.

Anyway, I love Clair. Minus the whole lawyer thing (which I have no desire to be, thank the Lord, since I'm definitely not smart enough), I think Clair is the perfect wife and mom. Perfect in a totally unattainable sort of way, you understand. Running around in her little suits and heels, fixing dinner and living in an impeccably clean house, always smiling and laughing, and never failing to have time to dance with Cliff after the kids have gone to bed. Clearly there were no cats in the Huxtable household. You're never without an audience when you have cats.

Today I feel about as far from Clair as you can get.

Today was a HUGE day at work. I had a massive project to complete, and I went in armed with coffee and the realization that I would get nothing done today except the project. No voicemails. No emails. No appointments. Just the project.

Of course it wasn't done by quitting time, so I had to stay after. I drank lukewarm tea and scarfed down a piece of ham out of a baggie (that my mother sent to me today from her leftover collection) for dinner. Clair would have remembered to pack dinner - or she would have ordered in. I sported sunglasses on my head even after 8 p.m. when the sun had no hope of returning. Clair would never be caught with sunglasses on her head. I almost forgot to tuck in my wrinkled polo when I took a bathroom break - but then I remembered I was not at home and some sense of credibility should be maintained. Because, you know, that's what Clair would do.

And when I finally came strolling in the door 4 hours after the work day ended, I had to drag out all the cooking stuff because we have a carry-in at work tomorrow, and I signed up to bring cookies. Clair would still be wearing her heels for such an occasion, but I never even put any of those on today, so forget that.

I am not Clair. But doggone it, I did put in a good day's work, and the cookies are fabulous!

Look What I Did!

Saturday was PAINTING DAY!!


It took just about eight hours to do all the painting, and I am thrilled to call this project DONE.
I didn't expect to be painting Saturday. This weekend was supposed to be our church's retreat weekend, but they had to cancel it, so I painted instead. I really don't know when I would have had time to do it (that might also coincide with good weather), so I'm thankful I had the chance on Saturday!

Sunday I made pumpkin cookies and a nice cup of chai and decorated the inside of the house...I can now officially welcome fall. :)

Bits for Sunday, September 20, 2009

**Today's post goes along with the two below it. **

This past Friday marked 21 years since my nephew was stillborn. I always remember him…remember that day…on his birthday, but this year I wanted to do something extra special because it was a big year. One of my friends designs and etches monuments, so I asked her to make a “little something” for his grave. I asked her to use the words This is what it means to be held from Natalie Grant’s song, and she did a beautiful job on a little granite heart.

So after work Friday evening, I packed up the car with my journal, my scrapbook, the little heart, my camera (of course) and a beach towel (yes, you read that right) and I drove to the cemetery. I didn’t really care who might see a girl on a beach towel and wonder if she’d lost her mind…I just wanted to go spend some time remembering.

I won’t spill everything I wrote to him, but here are some parts of it:

Hey Buddy. I think I would have called you Buddy. I can’t believe You have been gone 21 years. Or maybe I just can’t believe how much I still remember every second of that day.

This day is beautiful. The sun is out and it’s warm, and I can hear crickets. The day you died wasn’t like this one…damp and chilly.

I remember sitting in that waiting room, giddy with the excitement of meeting you for the first time – not even knowing that in those very moments, you were meeting Jesus for the first time.

And a little while later they came in and told us they “lost” you. I didn’t understand that. How could they LOSE you? You were a baby, not a set of keys.

And then I knew. And I knew I should cry, but I couldn’t. I tried so hard, but I couldn’t do it. Boy what a switch from today. Today I couldn’t stop. Today I just kept remembering the moment I held you. I just stared at you. No idea what to think. You were big baby – at least an armful for a ten year old aunt.

I remember your funeral and how my face never stopped looking leprous because of all the crying – because by that time I really did understand what had happened.

We sang… “hold us who wait before Thee…near to the heart of God.”

A few years ago, someone else wrote a song about being held… “This is what it means to be held…how it feels when the sacred is torn from your life…and you survive…This is what it is to be loved…and to know that the promise was when everything fell..we’d be held.”

I think of you every time and I cry because it’s true. This is what it means to be held.

I had that phrase engraved and I’m leaving it here today. Because you are held – every day – by the same One Who holds me. You just see Him more clearly.

I miss you, Buddy. I would have loved life with you in it.

The first time I came out here, I tugged on Mom’s skirt because I was confused and I needed answers. The funeral guy told me to leave her alone. Now I’m here alone – still confused – but no one to ask, and no one to tell me to stop.

You should know that I’m quirky. I wore a pink shirt and jeans tonight to come here, because I was wearing pink on my shirt and a denim skirt when I first held you that day. Yes, this quirky charm of mine would have either amused or annoyed you – but I thought you should know.

I am talking in circles and I should probably go. I’ve watched way too much CSI and SVU (everything in my life is an acronym) and being alone in a cemetery is starting to get the best of me.

Anyway, Buddy, I miss you. I miss you, I love you, and I want you to know you are never ever forgotten. Not for a second.

Thanks for making me an aunt. You still hold that record, you know. I miss you, but I’m glad to know you’re safely held.

21...Part Two

It was important to me to go visit Kirk's grave tonight. I wanted to spend some time at the cemetery just journaling and remembering.

The sun was beating right down on his grave when I got there...so I spread out my beach towel and went to work writing him a letter. And yes, I realize I am probably the only person to take a beach towel to a cemetery.

I was a mess today. Cried on and off all day at work (not that this should shock anyone in my office). I admit I became a little irritated with people wanting to haggle over a few dollars when I (still) felt like my world was crashing in. It felt good to be able to just sit and write - uninterrupted.

A special thanks to Alminnie - the mysterious woman next to Kirk who died 106 years ago. i borrowed her tombstone for a camera tripod. :)


Kirk's whole name is Geoffrey Kirk. A woman at my church told me a few weeks ago that she still remembered her son coming home from college for Geoffrey's funeral. Since, when spoken, Geoffrey sounds remarkably like Jeffrey, I was very confused. My brother-in-law had a funeral? How did I miss that? Ahhhh....GEOFFREY! Got it.

Not only did I take a beach towel, I used it! I took along my scrapbook of Kirk to look at while I was there.

I wanted something extra special to take to his grave this year. I didn't want anything that would rot or deflate or blow away....

...so my friend Amber (Hershey traveling buddy?) etched this for me. It's a granite heart and the words are from Natalie Grant's song Held. It looked perfect on his grave. Thanks, Amber, for doing such a wonderful job.

21 years

No one makes a sound in the surgical waiting room. The sun hasn't come up yet, and I am squirming on the couch. No one in my family is talking.

I don't understand.

We came here because my sister is having a baby. That's a happy reason, right? So why is everybody just sitting and staring?...

...A man is walking in now. He doesn't look happy. Maybe he's tired....

..."Lori's fine, but we lost the baby...."


...Who is this man? What does he mean, "Lost the baby?" How can you lose a baby?...

...No! I understand now!

No! They lost the baby! The baby died.

NO, NO, NO!

The man is leaving. Where is he going? He can't just come in here, tell us our baby died, and leave. Come back here!...

21 years doesn't make it hurt any less. I miss him. I so often wonder what it would have been like to have known him. To be calling him on his birthday instead of ordering something to leave at his grave.

And yet, through every tear, I know those words are true: This is what it means to be held.

Hello, Fall!

I can't believe fall has started so early. I guess it isn't really early...since it's over halfway through September...but what I see outside seems like October to me!

Just in case you're reading from a non-fall location, take a look at some of our sights:

I love it when some trees are turning and some aren't....

Fields turning golden....

Just a hint of red....

Here's What I Love

Many things, really...but this was today's boost. I LOVE having the students back on campus. Yes, I have to park a little father out. (Okay, sometimes in Minnesota...) Yes, it does make the day busier. Yes, it does make me worry about getting sick, since the germs multiply significantly. But it's so worth it.

Today three of them stopped by just to say hi. They didn't have any questions. They just popped in. They just brought smiles and stories and reminded me that I am capable of being more than just the answer machine. :)

I ran into a couple more while making my way through the parking lot, and it was so great to see their faces, hear about their days, and make plans to catch up later.

I have been blessed with a great group of students who are more than a file. They are such fun people with promising futures. I am there to answer their questions and help take the scare out of the money world, but I love it when they open up about life. I've had students bring in their wedding albums...pictures of their kids...cups of coffee...bags of M&Ms...you name it. They tell me about their ministries and classes and weekend plans...and those are the moments I love most.

So that's what I love today! :)

Bits for Sunday, September 13, 2009

Yesterday I went clothes shopping. It’s truly not my favorite thing to do. But I have a couple of concerts coming up, and I needed new options. I said that to my Dad a while back, and he said, “Why does it matter? They haven’t seen your clothes anyway.”

Dad’s a guy. I expect as much.

Then I said the same thing to Mom and she said, “Why do you need new clothes? They haven’t seen what you have now.”

MOM!!!!!!!

So I went in search of concert clothing. And sales. And new black work pants that do NOT double as a magnet for cat hair.

I went shopping in Kokomo, which still has some of my favorite stores. My first stop was Fashion Bug. I love Fashion Bug. And the Marion one closed…leaving me crippled in clothing choices. But yesterday was my lucky day. Armed with a coupon, I strolled into Fashion Bug…

…just in time for their annual fashion show. Bored-looking dads and boyfriends loitered beside the main aisle while doting moms and understanding friends stood poised with cameras. A line of girls cluttered up the cash register area while the store manager announced what they were wearing. They pranced down the main aisle and scurried back into the dressing rooms (all of them occupied with this thing) for a wardrobe change. Shoppers were encouraged to applaud and asked to keep the aisles clear.

Are you KIDDING me? I drove over here to shop and I have to keep the aisle clear so Kokomo’s Next Top Model contestants can parade through the path? No worries. I can shop on the side aisles.

Except there was a tiny problem.

Everything was marked plus size. I thought perhaps they’d swapped the sides of the store. Always before, I shopped on the left side of the store. But if I’ve learned anything from Wal Mart, it’s that change is good, so why wouldn’t my stuff be on the right side of the store now? So I slid across the aisle, carefully watching the models-to-be so as not to clutter their path, and again…all the signs said plus.

WHERE ARE MY CLOTHES?

That’s when I learned they’re all mixed in together. 6 to 30 all in a row. No problem. I can handle that. Takes some adjustment, but I can do it. And I had plenty of time because they were only on the first round of the latest and greatest fashion over there on the runway.

About that time, I got the phone call that my friend Kari was home and ready for me to come over for our belated birthday fest. I scrambled to get out of the store between rounds one and two, and I went back a few hours later, after an afternoon of birthday fun. I went in prepared this time…prepared and in search of concert clothing and black pants.

And that is when life got comical.

I found a whole row of black pants. The tags had yellow squares, red triangles, or blue circles. I vaguely remembered reading about the “new line” of clothing, so I thought it might be worth checking out. The sign said yellow was straight, red was slightly curvy, and blue was ultra curvy. I picked red. Then I started looking at sizes. They went from one to eight. Seriously!? One to eight? Why odd numbers? Why stop at eight?

I finally concluded this must be their own sizing system, and I set about to find some comparison chart that would tell me what I really am. What I found were instructions to take a measuring tape and measure my waist. Okay, well first of all, how did I manage to forget to take my measuring tape shopping with me? (Insert eyeroll here.) And secondly, I go to great lengths to NOT know any measurements about myself, so how should I know?

There was a chart that gave waist measurements in comparison to this mysterious sizing thing, so I picked three sizes that I thought might be close and headed to the fitting room.

I took the first pair off the hanger and blasted a huge laugh right out loud there in the fitting room. You ever notice how stores fold in the waists of pants and skirts to make them all look like a size six from the hanger? Well this one unfolded…and unfolded…and unfolded. That thing was like the “before” pair of pants from a weight loss picture. I just stood there, cracking up and not even caring what the lady down the way thought, because she was on her cell phone, and I already thought she was weird.

Out of sheer curiosity, I came home and measured my waist. I’d guessed NINE INCHES too big.

Woops!

After consulting the Fashion Bug website, I learned that this particular line of clothing is all plus size clothing. That might explain my troubles. And wouldn’t you know – that is the ONE rack of clothing that did not say plus. Sigh. Come on, Fashion Bug! Meet me halfway!

I did, however, find pants that I hope will be non-magnetic for cat hair. And a very cute shirt for one of the concerts. Sweet.

Candy Shop Pizza

I've told you before that when I was first out on my own, I was not that great a cook. My skills were very limited, because I'd grown up in a house with a Mom who was a FANTASTIC cooks, so I'd had no need to learn for myself. I didn't mind being a struggling cook when I was home alone. But I did mind when it came time for work or church carry-in dinners. So Mom helped me find a few staple recipes to begin my cooking career. This was one of them.

I think she found this one in a magazine, and she shared it with me because it seemed quick and easy. Because I made it so often in those early years, it became one that was frequently-requested by my friends. I've taken it to Super Bowl parties and New Year's Eve bashes and all sorts of good junk food events.

Last Sunday, I took this to some friends' house for lunch and they asked for the recipe (yay!). I already sent it to them, but because I know they LOVE (ha!) the picture tutorial....here it is.

The Recipe:
18 ounce roll refrigerated chocolate chip cookie dough
6 ounce package chocolate chips
1/2 cup creamy or crunchy peanut butter
1 Butterfinger bar
1 Kit Kat Bar
1 Twix Bar

Press cookie dough into a 9X13 baking dish or a 12 inch pizza pan. Bake at 375 for 11-15 minutes until edges are set and center is soft. While hot, sprinkle on chocolate chips and peanut butter. Let stand for five minutes to soften, then spread. Sprinkle 3 chopped candy bars over top. Cool. Cut into squares and serve.


I buy the generic cookie dough if I can find it. I actually prefer it to the brand name because it seems to have more actual dough. While I don't believe there can be such a thing as "too many chocolate chips" as a general rule, when you need something to be a "crust," it helps if there's a good amount of dough. I've used both creamy and crunchy peanut butter - makes no difference. And of course, the candy bars are up to your own choosing. I bought these this time because they're what I could find in the Wal-Mart aisle I was in.


The dough gets very sticky and that can get annoying. I put a baggie over my hand to keep it from sticking to me. The recipe's name (Candy Shop Pizza) suggests you should put this in a pizza pan, but I don't have one, so I just use my smallest cookie sheet. It doesn't matter. It's all cut up into squares before serving anyway.

It also usually doesn't fill up the entire pan. I don't want to thin the dough out TOO much, so I just leave the end of it wherever I run out.

While the dough bakes, I go ahead and cut up the candy bars, so they're ready to go. I almost always put Butterfinger and Kit Kat on this because they're easy to chop up and they add a good crunch. For the third bar, I've used Nestle Crunch, Baby Ruth, Snickers, all kinds of candy. I also take the baking time to measure the peanut butter, so I can have it ready the minute the cookie dough is done baking.

Here is the baked cookie - doesn't it look pretty?

I sprinkle the chocolate chips (about half a bag...milk chocolate or semi-sweet...I've used both) and plop the peanut butter down by the teaspoon. If you dump all the peanut butter in one spot, it won't melt as well and you'll have a hard time spreading it. I do this part the very minute it comes out of the oven.

Once the peanut butter looks melty around the edges and the chocolate chips are shiny, take a knife or spreader and gently spread it around. I try to mix them up well as I spread it. Don't push too hard because the cookie underneath is still soft.

Here is the finished, mixed product. This now serves as the "glue" for the candy bars...so they won't fall off when you cut and serve. So make sure to put them on right away.

And there you have it! Make sure to evenly spread the candy bars - and to let them go all the way to the edge. I usually make this a day in advance so it has a chance to set up overnight.

Just cut into squares and serve. You probably won't have leftovers, so if you want any for yourself, sneak them as you cut them.

Ministry Blogs

I'm post-happy this week, I think. Not post as in "I was previously-happy and now I'm post-happy." Post as in...what you're reading.

Maybe it's because last week I worked so many hours I didn't even have time catch my breath, eat properly, or sleep, and now I have so many things to report! Or maybe I'm just being a motor mouth again.

Anyway, if you haven't read yesterday's post and you need a good laugh at my expense, please do scroll down and read. In the meantime, I have just a couple things I wanted to say. Normally I don't say much about the blogs in my list. I figure if you are curious, you'll check them out, and if you're not, then...well...no worries! Most of the blogs are people I know in real life, but a few are people I just enjoy reading about, while wishing I knew them in real life.

But there are three posts I want to tell you about just in case you would otherwise miss them.

1. Living Proof Ministries has a new post up today, written by Beth Moore's daughter, Amanda. The title of the post is Disturb Us, Lord, and she makes pondering-worthy comments in it, I think. Perhaps it hits home with me today because of conversations I've been having elsewhere. Melissa has just started a new Master's program, and she writes about her first day in chapel. Among other things, she says, "But the catch here is that during that dry season I was studying Scripture more intensely than I had ever studied it before. Yet I was no longer engaged with the One to whom Scripture points, Jesus. I was no longer receiving life itself." Powerful stuff.

2. Ministry So Fabulous is a blog I just started reading this week. My friend Julie sent me a link to a specific post that sounded like a page straight out of Bekahland. I was hooked and started reading post after post...and loving the tales of a life so like my own...but actually happening to someone else! Yesterday she posted about meeting a guy with a beautiful accent, and I just LOVED everything about her post because it was all the stuff I think but never have the guts to say in a situation like that! :) That one even has a video blog with it. Good stuff.

3. And finally, since my lunch hour is rapidly ending and I need to get back to work...a few days back, Eric Ludy updated his blog. He and his wife have one of those "dream ministries" - at least in my opinion. The kind of stuff I would love to do! They are starting a "school of honor" and I absolutely love the concept behind it and hope it succeeds beyond their wildest thoughts. I met with a student (a guy) yesterday afternoon right before the end of work, and after chatting about money, we veered off into a conversation about ministry and fluffy Bible studies. He talked about the rare population of people who follow hard and fast after deep truth, and it made me think he'd be a great student for that school. He's the kind of heart they're looking for, and they're not easy to find - especially among the guys.

So anyway, if you have a minute, check out the posts...I have to give up my lovely lunch time perch on the porch and head back to work!

Pulled hamstring and all. (That's the post below.)

Only in Bekahland....

Before I get to today's almost-catastrophes, let me tell you my two "yay!" moments.

* Yesterday morning, some precious (yet anonymous) soul left a box of muffins on my desk at work. I asked around and the most information I could get was "someone with strawberry blonde hair." I can't think who that might be...which makes me feel even worse...because obviously said person was thinking enough about me to bring me food and I can't even come up with an option of a name! But thank you, kind soul! You have made my week.

* Tonight as I walked through campus after visiting one of my friends at her apartment, a group of students asked me if I was going to play dodge ball. After picking myself up off the ground from hysterical laughter, I realized they thought I was a student!! God bless that box of hair color.

Okay. On to today's injuries.

I'm not graceful. I'm forever doing something unkind to myself. Rarely do I break or sprain or do anything really horrid. But I am just a magnet for mishaps.

This morning I bruised my calf with my flat iron. Do you know how much talent that takes? Significant, I assure you. For reasons unknown to me, my flat iron has about a twelve foot cord on it. Perhaps it was designed for women who actually do their hair on their commute to work and they need that much cord. Dunno. But in a 3 square inch bathroom, that much cord is...well...apparently a hazard. I had plugged in the iron this morning to straighten my bangs before work, and as I turned to exit the bathroom to get something, my foot became tangled in the mass of cord, and the plugged in iron came snapping off the counter and sailed straight into my calf. Thank goodness it wasn't a curling iron or I'd have a bruise and a burn.

Later, in another unprecedented move, I pulled or strained or whatever a hamstring while at my computer. HELLO. How????? Well I stood up from my desk to go meet with a student, realized I needed one more bit of information, and turned back to my computer. Rather than sitting down like a normal person or even bending over to gather this, I kind of bent sideways without bending my knee and in so doing, felt incredible pain shoot through my leg. Probably because legs don't bend that way! And now I'm on the injured list.

I stopped by to visit another friend on my way home from exercising tonight and she asked why I was working out if I was hurt. I said "Because fat trumps injury!!!" She rolled her eyes.

Happy Birthday, Dear Mama...

Today is my Mom's birthday. If you were one of the (approximately) one billion people I told she was 74....I might have been wrong.

She's one year younger than I thought. Consider this my printed retraction. I sorry, Mom. :)

Here she is with her birthday gift...love the bag? She is NOT a Victoria's Secret fan, so I thought it would be fun to put her gift in one of their bags. See the grief I continue to give her? It's part of my charm.

Balloon and everything! Everyone deserves a balloon for the birthday!

Happy birthday, Mom!

Okay So Maybe It's True

You'll find Bits in the post below, but my sister said I should scan this in, so I did. Because, you know, I'm a good sister. I follow directions. :)

People frequently comment that my niece and I could pass for sisters. Well sometimes we've heard mother/daughter, but HELLO! I was eleven when she was born! I don't think so! It always cracks me up when I hear that because I think she looks a lot like her dad, and we're not related.

This is Cassie's senior picture, that I have in a frame in my living room. Tonight I was adding pictures to frames, and I put the picture below it right beside it. And then I sat there with my jaw dropped and said, "Well shut right up. Maybe there's something to that theory!"

I'll claim her. She's the best.

Bits for Sunday, September 6, 2009

I have had a VERY busy week (see post below for details on that) so I don't have anything meaningful for you today. I'm so sorry. I found this little "get to know you" list on a blog and decided it would work for this week's Bits. Enjoy!


A is for Age… 31. That still seems so strange to me. I am growing accustomed to it, though. When it first arrived, I blamed everything in life on my age. Over and over, I’d say “It’s probably because I’m 31.”

B is for Bed… I have a “cheater” king bed. I can’t get a king mattress into my room, so I have two twin mattresses pushed together with a foam connector running down the seam to make it work as one bed. Love my bed! The cats love it too. I accidentally knocked Kaegan out this morning because I didn’t know he was there. Woops!

C is for Chore… HATE cleaning litter boxes. And the toilet. See a theme there?

D is for Dog… I once had a Chihuahua named Lassie. You may stop laughing now. Seriously. Stop!

E is for Essential… I m-u-s-t have a fan running while I sleep! If I don’t have white noise, I can’t sleep at all. Makes vacations fun when I’m sharing a room with someone who can’t sleep WITH one.

F is for Favorite… TV show coming back this fall? The Biggest Loser! I’m actually watching a marathon of an old season of it right now. Love watching those transformations. And I cry nearly every show of every season. I’m sure that shocks you. But it’s just so beautiful when they succeed!

G is for Gold… And I don’t have any broken, mismatched, or unwanted amounts of it to send to Cash 4 Gold. I hate their commercials.

H is for Height… 5’6” – taller on a good hair day! Tallest person in my family too, thankyouverymuch.

I is for Instrument… I took piano lessons for eleven years. I can play chopsticks. Sort of.

J is for Job… which is what I’m very thankful to have, even when it makes me feel like I am truly going to lose my mind.

K is for Kids… and since I don’t have any, I can sleep through the night and until eleven on Saturdays if I so desire. But God has blessed me with great kiddos all over the place that have adopted me as an aunt, and I love them!

L is for Living… the best year of life yet! I am having (seriously!) the greatest year ever. And there are many more fun plans waiting in the wings between now and Christmas!

M is for Mustard… I despise everything about mustard, but I adore honey mustard. My favorite is Bob Evans’ honey mustard. I buy it by the pint.

N is for Nickname… Well, for being the girl whose parents did not like nicknames, rendering me “Rebekah” for all my growing up years, I seem to have quite a few now! I was dubbed “Princess” in college and a bunch of my college friends still call me that. Bekah Boo...Bekah Roo...Bekah Bek...many others. I also answer to Julie, since most people get me mixed up with my sister.

O is for Overnight… which is how quickly I wish my hair would grow! I hate waiting!

P is for Pasta… Oh yes please! Bring me my carbs! I love pasta and eat a lot of it – especially in the winter. It’s great comfort food.

Q is for Quote… the one I used yesterday during lunch at work was from Friends. Do you know who said it? “I grew up with Monica! If you didn’t eat fast, YOU DIDN’T EAT!”

R is for Right… “I know, right?!?!?!?” I spent most of my shopping day out with Julie teaching her how to appropriately use that phrase!

S is for Sibling... rivalry. Something my sisters and I never experienced in the traditional sense. Not much to rival with our age gap!

T is for Time… to SLEEP! I have missed doing that lately. Two hours of a blissful nap this afternoon greatly helped my mood.

U is for Under… the weather is what I so fear happening in the next couple of weeks. Students and all their germies have descended upon campus. It’s a swine flu festival waiting to happen.

V is for Vegetable… I’ve heard of those.

W is for Watermelon… I l-o-v-e watermelon, and I’m quite excited about the seedless ones!

X is for X-Ray… Had one once. I was eleven and had fallen off my bike. They were trying to determine if my leg was broken, but the spot in question was directly on a growth “line” in my bone, so they couldn’t tell if there was also a fracture. I spent a whole weekend flat on my back until the specialist could read the x-ray on Monday.

Y is for Yummy… which is what I think about Culvers! We just got one and yesterday was my first time to go! MMMMMMMM mixers....

Z is for Zoo… Didn’t make it there this year. Love the dolphin show the best!

Labor Day Marathon

...Not of the TV variety, unfortunately.

This weekend has been...and will continue to be...busy. I did, in fact, survive the week with most of my brain cells still intact.

Last night I was invited over to my friends' house for dinner, a movie, and bonding with all my kiddos, including baby James. I informed them I might not be super intelligent, but I'd be happy to hang out with them. When I walked in the door, Savannah and Liam smothered me with hugs and kisses. Savannah read to me from a book about puppies. She is QUITE the little reader these days! And Liam just killed me with his one-liners. He is probably the funniest kid I've ever met.

James ate. A lot. And he peed on me. I didn't even know it. I knew he needed changed, but when I stood up to go change him, I discovered my entire shirt was soaked - as were a variety of spots on my pants. :) Woops.

I did have a chat with him before I changed his diaper. I said, "Okay James; here's the dealio. We do not pee on Aunt Bekah. Ever. If you have to go, you do it before the diaper opens or after the new one closes. Otherwise, you WAIT." I had that same chat with Liam the first time I changed his diaper, and he obeyed perfectly. We'll see if James does the same.


Don't know if I'll ever have kids of my own. That remains a mystery that only God knows. But there is something pretty wonderful about going to hang out with these three, getting loved on, and feeling the breath of a newborn on your face. I love those moments. (James does too...really. It's just not so much showing in this picture. LOL.)

So that was last night.

Today I had to get up EARLY and go to work. On a Saturday. Today was one of two Saturdays I'm required to work each year. It really wasn't so bad, and I even got to leave on time! WOO HOOOO!!!!

I came home and began phase 427 (it feels like) of the porch overhaul.

Here was the porch when I started. Worn and peeling green paint from decades ago, covered with a dried yellowed glue that reeks like an old lady's house when you scrape it off.



And here we have the primer. It took me between two and three hours to finish priming it. I was so careful to not paint myself into a corner...worked my way from side to side and down the front steps. I cleaned up all my stuff and put it away. That's when I discovered I'd not bothered to unlock the back door. WOOPS. Oh well.

Hopefully the actual paint layer will be applied Monday! Continuation of the weekend marathon!
But already it looks amazingly better. One of my neighbors drove by, slowed down, and yelled out "looks nice!" as I painted. He was probably refraining from adding "was wondering when you were going to address the eyesore it has been for months!"

Almost There...

...It's Friday morning. Only one more day and I can call it a week. It hasn't been such a horrible week. Just a long one. When the alarm went off today I said, "You've GOT to be kidding me!" I am sure I had just fallen asleep!!

Despite that, I got up, worked out (shut up!), had breakfast, and now I'm trying to squeeze in a post before I get ready for work.

I don't think I have anything of major importance to report, since I've pretty much just gone through the motions of work, chores, workouts and sleep this week, but I did want to comment on this post over at Stuff Christians Like.

We used to talk about this at my old church, and this Sunday it came up at my new church too. I'm always glad to know I'm not alone in my rapture-worry. I saw the same movie the post-writer saw, only I was younger. I'm sure I couldn't have been more than five. They showed it on a Sunday night in church, and not too long after that, my parents read me a book on the subject during our family devotions. Now I'm not one to badmouth my parents' decisions in raising me. Who am I to talk? I have no children. I'm not smart. I know that. But I do have to say if I had kids, I'd approach this subject differently than they did because it scared me to death.

I went through a season of life when I was literally petrified to be alone because I was afraid Jesus would come back, leave me here, and I wouldn't even know it had happened because I hadn't been around anyone to watch them disappear. I wouldn't let Mom and Dad out of my sight. If we went to the gas station, I'd go inside with them to pay because I had to be able to see them.

Babysitting was the perfect job for me because I knew babies were safe. As long as I could still see them, I knew I was fine.

The insane fear lasted until I was sixteen and could not come up with a viable excuse for not driving alone. I had to be brave enough to get in a car and get out on the open road. (I solved that by listening to Christian radio...as long as the songs kept playing, I knew I was okay!)

I have to admit, though my Dad loves to talk end times, the topic still scares me and I'd prefer to talk about painting or Wal Mart or root canals or anything else.

So that's my deep dark secret fear...apparently shared by the post writer. Now I know a couple of you who read my blog have had this same fear, because we've talked about it. Anyone else?

"The Week"

One thing I love about my job is that with the exception of the random question at church...at Wal Mart...at the gas station...I can leave work at work. I don't drag home papers to grade. I don't have lesson plans to make. I am not required to check my email or voicemail off hours. I don't get called in for anything. I love that because it gives me ample time to do what I love: scrapping, cooking, writing, eating.

And then there's "the week." It only happens a couple times a year. The week when going to work at four in the morning and staying until ten at night isn't enough time. The week when I know better than to plan to cook an actual meal. It's either drive-thru or cereal. Or both if I'm stressed. :) The week when I have to strategically plan my workouts to accommodate shortened daylight hours and lengthened work hours.

Welcome to my week.

Went to work at 6:30 Monday morning. Yes, you heard that right. 6:30. In the morning. Found out that apparently this week my building doesn't open until 7:00. Not my happiest moment. Leaving on time is...not going to happen. I do still firmly hold to my need for a lunch hour. Must have my carbs. I am careful to have iced tea, coffee, whatever it takes, on hand. I lecture myself that sleep is just not going to happen. Not this week.

I know there are people who do "the week" every week. No idea how they do it. In fact, this week I'm glad I don't have a husband or kids because I have no idea how I'd possibly be a quality wife or mother. The cats are all I can handle during "the week."

So far I'm not super-overwhelmed. The longer work days have been enough to keep the load manageable. Check back tomorrow, though. That's when we have a five hour meeting that could prove interesting upon my return to emails and voicemails.

Seriously. Check on me. See if I'm still sane. If I'm not, you can pretend you don't know me. :D