Bits for Sunday, April 13, 2008

Well, the great countdown is upon us…starting tomorrow. One month until I cross the bridge from being twenty-something to being thirty. I am genuinely excited. I love celebrations and have decided, rather than to dread this impending over-the-hillness, to just embrace it and have as much fun with it as I possibly can.

Earlier today I updated my lovely layout here with a baby picture from my tinier days and a countdown banner to keep track of just how many days I have to go until the ultimate party day arrives. I looked at that picture of me in my little dedication dress…and I thought about the adventures of these years…adventures that I knew nothing about when I was propped up against the photography rug, smiling through some drool.

I think about that sometimes when I watch my friends’ kids. I see their little personalities start to pop out and I wonder what they’ll be like as adults…how will they grow and change? What things will impassion them and what things will make them giggle and cry and blush? What lives will surround theirs and what paths will they choose to walk to leave their footprints in the world?

My parents probably didn’t expect that little Drooley in a dedication gown would grow up to be a girl who tries to find the perfect blend of sarcasm, humor, and deep contemplation. A girl who drags a camera everywhere to capture any possible moment and glue it in a scrapbook. A girl whose idea of a journal is a massive hardcover book that gets to hold the memories of everything from ultimate humiliation to complete joy to “this-would-only-happen-to-you” ridiculousness. A girl who hates getting up in the morning no matter what enticing day stretches out ahead, but will stay up until 2 in the morning to cry over a sappy movie or bake chocolate chip cookies and resist getting sleepy for fear she might miss something exciting if she calls it a day.

I’ve exhausted my parents to some extent, I’m sure. But of course, giving birth in their forties probably made that a given. I listened to a tape earlier this weekend…Mom “interviewed” me on my fifth birthday, and I wore me out just listening to the tape. It’s just an audio recording, so you can’t see…but I am sure I was bouncing all over that room while she was trying to pull out of me important information like my favorite color (to which I answered “Red, just like it always is”) and my favorite food (“pizza” – which I had probably only eaten twice in my entire life at that point). I distinctly remember exasperating both of them with my “I will find this penny in my checkbook if it’s the last thing I do before I die” attitude in high school. And even now, just as they’re curling up for a long night’s rest, they’ll groan at my news of “Well I’m off to start cleaning the house” or some other craziness to be starting at 11 p.m.

In the last 30 years I’ve desired every possible career path from zookeeper to secretary to pastor’s wife to teacher to nurse to….financial aid counselor? Hmmm. I think that one just found me. I’ve had a number of hair colors and styles, and yet they accepted me as a daughter with each one – even as Ronald McDonald’s love child and bangs that required more hairspray than the family budget could afford. (These were not simultaneous do’s, you understand. Thankfully.)

They carted me to and from babysitting jobs prior to my license-holding years. Dad even drove all the way to one of the jobs when I called in a panic that I’d overloaded the toilet with baby wipes after one of the kids had an illness-induced diaper blowout and I didn’t know what to do. (It’s truly a wonder I made it this far into adulthood, now that I think about it.) They lived through dozens…hundreds?...of crushes and my cries of “but if I don’t marry him, I’ll just die” – assuring me with pats on the back that I would in fact, NOT die. And so far they’ve been right.

Yes, if they’d known all of this (and more) that 30 years ahead of them would entail when they stood over to the side and watched Drooley smile at the photographer, they might have sneaked out a side door and run for their lives.

But they didn’t, and I came home and managed to grow up and make it out on my own for lo these many years…and now I’m excited to look ahead to untold adventures to come.

This month I’m reading a book by Nancie Carmichael called Desperate for God. She writes about prayer and how a person’s prayer life can follow the stages of life itself…from infancy to youth to middle age to maturity. In her section on infancy, she writes this, which reminded me that regardless of how old I’m getting in real life, and how far behind me those childhood years get, I need to hang onto a bit of that innocence in my prayer life: “We come as children, pouring out to Him the essence of who we are – confessing our sin, our weakness. And as we grow to know Him more, our prayers take on different dimensions. But primarily, it is important to be very simple, very honest in prayer, calling out to Him from who and where we are, believing that He hears us.”

That’s something I learned as a child (somewhere in between drooling and driving) and I hope to never forget.

Well.

In response to the Idol comments on my last post....I have no words to say except WHAT????

That was not the right outcome. I don't think that Michael would have won the whole thing, but I also don't think he should have gone home last night - and apparently I am not alone in that opinion!!

I enjoyed the Shout to the Lord performance - hadn't seen that one on Idol Gives Back. (Didn't watch the whole thing.) That was really well done, I thought - and FINALLY!!! A song I knew!

This week has been a VERY crazy week. Tons of working over and very little free time. I enjoyed the work I was doing but I am 100% exhausted and ready to take it easy. Except I don't think I have time to do that - but at least the busyness will become another kind of busy.

I'll just sit here and continue to shake my head in amazement.

Totally Two

I've been working on my scrapbook of my 1-5 year old years. (This is how I am choosing to be able to relate to my friends who have kids and scrap. I scrap my own kid years and therefore have something in common with them. When I'm done...guess I'll borrow someone else's kids and start over until they move on themselves.)

Anyway, I found these pictures (don't you love the tint?) from when I was two. When I, as my sister so eloquently put it, "parted my teeth down the middle." She could say that. She did it too.

As I wrote in my book, I don't know if I truly went through the "terrible two's" or not - but obviously I started off the year with a full-fledged meltdown at the photographer's.

Mom told me tonight, when we talked about this particular picture...she was NOT amused when it was happening. I said "You weren't happy with the photographer or with me?" She said, "YOU! You were old enough to know how to sit and smile." Oh I just love it. I would have been annoyed with me too. She said it's cute now. I don't know about that.


I recovered...parted teeth and all. And for the record - if you look at where my knuckles SHOULD be - and all you see are dimples in fat? That went on for YEARS. I think I graduated from high school with baby fat on my hands. I thought it would NEVER end.

Top Eight Inspiration?

I hate saying this since I do love this top eight so much, but I didn't love this night as a whole. I wish I had loved it more. I am, however, looking forward to tomorrow night and the people who will be part of the Idol Gives Back show.

* Michael - He actually scared me. Especially on those high notes. I really didn't care for it at all, and I agreed with Randy that I don't think his song tonight showed who he really is. And I think he's seasoned enough to know who he really is, so I want to see more of that.

* Syesha - I cringed when I heard them say she'd sing a Fantasia song because I am not even remotely a Fantasia fan. And I don't remember her singing it at the finale at all...probably because I didn't really pay attention to anything she did. If Syesha wasn't as "emotionally connected," it's probably because Fantasia cried all the way through it or something. Anyway, I thought she did a FANTASTIC job and I wish she'd have gotten better reviews. Syesha, that is.

* Jason - I don't know that I would ever call him the "hottest" performance of the night. There's still too much quirk in him to fall into that category. Having said that, I thought he did a great job and was consistent in bringing his own mark to his music. I liked it.

* Kristy Lee - To quote my notes that I took (short term memory is not good...have to make notes) - "Rats. She did a good job." Other than Jason's song, this is the only one tonight that I knew, and I had some pretty high expectations for the song because Martina is Martina and you really shouldn't mess with her. And I actually thought she did a good job, and I agreed that it was her personal best of the season. HOWEVER. I'm still not thrilled with her attitude from last week...and I thought she kind of continued her "dig" of being consistently in the bottom by choosing the line from the song that talked about when people forget what you sing. But vocally - much better.

* David Cook - Oh I just love him and I hate it that he just seemed off tonight. I thought his voice sounded different. I liked it...but it sounded less rocker-ish and in that, it lost some of its definition that makes it HIM. But he's still the great David Cook.

* Carly - I didn't like it at all. I was once again distracted by the tattoo. I didn't agree with Simon on the outfit...I didn't like that at all. I thought Simon made a good point, though, that it seemed an angry performance, because her facial expressions were scary to watch. The screaming got to me - I thought (and Randy said it was so) that there were pitch issues. I just didn't like it. I agree with Simon that she could be in trouble.

* David Archuleta - Of course he did a great job. I am impressed at how well he handles playing while singing...for his age, that could be a tough thing to handle on that stage. I don't think it was his best EVER, but the end was awesome and he'll be just fine.

* Brooke - I'm scared for my Brooke. I just love her but the farther into this we get, she seems to be...I'm not even sure what to call it. I don't think she's losing confidence, but she seems more cautious...maybe? Guarded? I'm not sure what she's doing, but she's better than what she seems to be giving herself credit for....or more than she gives herself permission to be. Something. It was better than the Sunshine week or whatever that song was, but it didn't quite seem right.

Well last year on Idol Gives Back week they ended up not sending anyone home, but it didn't sound like they planned to repeat that this time. So this week I'd say the bottom 3 are Carly and Brooke...and then my third vote is a toss-up between Michael and David Cook. Neither of them should go home, but I am worried that they were just enough "off" their norm that whichever one has the smaller fan base could be in trouble.

Bits for Sunday, April 6, 2008

This week I had one of those moments that not so long ago would have really annoyed me…but this time I took great pleasure in it. In a meeting, someone questioned my age and seemed surprised to know I had worked at my job for as many years as I have. When I first started working, I was frequently (and skeptically, I might add) questioned about my age and it irritated me to the point of purchasing fake glasses…a move which did result in greater respect, interestingly enough. But the onset of prematurely graying hair has obliterated my need for fake glasses and has also hushed all questions of age. Until this week. The hair dye must be working. I wanted to skip as I left the meeting – excited to once again be mistaken for someone fresh out of college.

I say that because what I’m about to say borders on sounding old and sentimental, and I wanted to remind us all that while I am sentimental before my time, I am not old.

This morning in our Sunday School class (I’m retaking junior high, in case you forgot or didn’t know) – we read Philippians. The entire book, which in all fairness, is only four chapters. I found my study-loving self wanting to stop in between verses to talk about all the rich words…but we foraged ahead. At the end of class, Pastor Brian told the teens that there were so many things we could have gone back to look at more in-depth, but he wanted to just familiarize them with that book…and for the next few weeks, we’d work our way through some of the other letters and accounts of Paul.

As we read and familiarized…I found myself remembering times when the words of this tiny book had first come to mean something so important to me. Some of those times occurred when I was not much older than the teens in our class. By the time Sunday School ended, my mind had wandered down multiple paths of those days when Philippians came to the rescue. So I came home, pulled the study Bibles off the shelf (I switch Bibles every so often to get a fresh perspective) and looked back at the notes I’d made along the way.

1:6 – “…he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.” That reminded me of years ago, during the phase when I escaped into the world of headphones and music in the car rather than paying any attention to the conversations of Mom and Dad…and I learned this verse through a duet sung by Steve Green and Kelly Willard. I still remember that little chorus. And below this verse in one Bible, I’ve written a quote by Oswald Chambers – “Think of the enormous leisure of God! He is never in a hurry!” And He still isn’t.

1:9-11 – “And this is my prayer: that your love may abound more and more in knowledge and depth of insight, so that you may be able to discern what is best and may be pure and blameless until the day of Christ, filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Christ Jesus – to the glory and praise of God.” According to the margin, these verses were my theme verses for 1998 – when I would have been a sophomore transitioning into a junior in college. I found the verses after reading a book by Joshua Harris and being challenged to work harder at my faith.

2:14 – “Do everything without complaining or arguing” – This verse is highlighted in bright blue in another Bible, and I wrote in the margin, “Everything is all-inclusive. This is a virtue to strive for. It builds and reflects character.” Sigh. And I still have more character to build in this area.

3:12-14 – “Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already been made perfect but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. Brothers, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.” Verses given to me on scraps of paper in high school study hall from a sweet friend named Emily. I miss her. She was a friend who always brought her Bible to study hall and on the off-study moments, she’d write encouragement notes to her friends, and I often received them…shoved across the aisle when the teacher wasn’t looking.

4:12 – “I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want.” This verse struck me today when we read it, because it made me think of my sister and brother-in-law and niece and all they’ve been through in the past year since the tornado. They can say these verses in a very different and much more complete way than I can…and I can learn so much from that.

There were more notes and highlights in the Bibles, but I chose those to show that in these past 15 or so years since I began really reading and studying, God has brought different verses at different times to show me His power and presence in my life. Sometimes through songs, sometimes through sermons, sometimes through the forbidden notes in study hall. And I love this heritage of scribbles and underlining and highlighting that reminds me of the paths I’ve walked.

It makes me excited to see the day when the teens in that Sunday School class discover that kind of excitement for preserving their own journey of faith…a journey that took a big step for most of them this morning when they were baptized. And I hope in 15 or so years, they can look back over Philippians and see a verse or two that they remember from a Sunday morning when they read through the book in a day…and God planted a seed.

And We Will Miss Him...Or Her...

My parents and some of my friends were without power yesterday for a while. Here is the explanation according to the Kokomo Tribune...

A raccoon is responsible for turning off the lights in Greentown and eastern Howard County on Wednesday morning.Apparently the critter was able to scale a fence or dig underneath to get inside the Maple Street substation, said Duke Energy spokeswoman Angeline Protegere.The power outage lasted nearly two hours from 4:11 to 5:47 a.m. Protegere said 3,415 customers were without power.The raccoon did not survive.

The only raccoon in the world who got a newspaper obituary, I'm sure. His/her family is probably so grateful.

Eyeroll

I enjoyed last night's Idol results show and was glad to see I was close on the bottom 3! That may be a first. But I do have to say that the guest group scared me. I appreciated their obvious musical talent, but the singer looked petrified. And his method of screaming at me that Jesus was on the main line did NOT make me want to call Him up and tell Him what I want. I do love that song though. I especially enjoy the GVB version where Mark Lowry sticks his shoe in Bill's face while they sing it. I prefer to be entertained rather than scared while listening to music.

But anyway, here's my Bekah moment for the day - to which I have no response OTHER than a giant eyeroll at myself. Monday I mailed a whole bunch of stuff, including a letter to a friend of mine. An encouragement letter. Never written to her before, hoped it would be a good thing...went on with my day.

Later, I decided to mail my Mary Kay payment check to my friend Marie who had so graciously allowed me to take the new mineral powder foundation and mail the check after payday. I distinctly remembered writing the check, tearing it out of the book, putting it on the desk, and I thought for SURE I'd packed it in my work bag to mail that day. I had the envelope but no check. So I thought perhaps I'd just forgotten it at home. I checked when I went home that evening....desk was empty. At that point I did the only logical thing I knew to do. I blamed Braeya. I figured she stole it and I'd have to turn over all the furniture to find it.

And then today I got an email from my letter friend. She thanked me for the kind words and inquired about the check enclosed in the envelope.

Way to go, Bekah.

Eyeroll.

Top Nine

I don't want to disappoint Deb, so I'll make sure I get my post out here pronto!

I told Phats early on this season that I thought they were over-pushing the whole "best season ever" thoughts, but I do have to say that even with nine still to go, I do have more favorites than I've ever had before. Maybe they were right!

* Brooke. I just love everything about her. I loved her country sound...I thought she did a good job connecting with the song and the audience. She looked beautiful. And Paula's right - she does a great job of being consistent. I think in this competition that could be a risk to take, because if everyone else changes things up all the time, she could get the boring reputation, but I think she's amazing and I want her to do well no matter what week is her last.

* David C. I just love him. (Seeing a pattern here?) Phats, were you at all happy about the haircut? I know his hair bugs you. I loved his song...I loved the falsetto...I loved the arrangement...and I loved knowing he did it himself. I think he's a lot like Chris Daughtry in that he knows what he wants, he isn't afraid to tackle it himself, and no matter when he exits, he'll become someone big in music.

* Ramiele - I have to admit I enjoyed the sound of the song, but I didn't enjoy watching her. A couple of times I looked away and when I wasn't distracted by the awkwardness, I enjoyed the sound. Maybe it is her age, but she just doesn't seem to have the command that so many of the others have. Maybe in another season she would have stood out more?

* Jason - Quirky is his thing and it works for him. He's kind of a happy go lucky little singer, but it works for him in ways it wouldn't for anyone else. I liked it, but a couple of times, when the camera wasn't zoomed in and I watched him standing there with his guitar, he reminded me of the free credit report dot com guy - selling fish or iced tea or whatever it is to tourists in t-shirts.

* Carly - Brace yourselves. I actually liked her tonight. I like her much better when she's got a softer image about her. When her hair is softer...her voice is softer...I like that side of her. I TOTALLY agreed with Simon about her wardrobe. I'm still distracted by the massive tattoos - and the whole workout looking pants with a dressy shirt...wasn't helping.

* David Archuleta - What a sweetie! I know he is actually younger than Ramiele, but he has a much better grip on things, I think. I loved his song, I loved his voice - and I hope whatever it is that his Dad does that drives everyone so crazy won't end up hurting him in the long run. He's got really good star potential.

* Kristy Lee - I know country is her thing and I know it was a good week for her - but I still didn't get that into it. I am just not a fan. I thought she looked beautiful. Oh and I absolutely could have done without the comment she made to Simon at the end. I know he always says she's forgettable (uh, probably because she is???) but there's no need to be rude to the judges.

* Syesha - Okay this was the one song from this week that I knew, but even though I know it and I know Whitney sang it, I don't have that "only Whitney can sing this song" mentality, so I thought she did a FANTASTIC job. FANTASTIC. Especially sitting down! However, I do respect the power of a song. I don't appreciate it when people try to sing David Phelps and don't do a David Phelps job. So I can see how people loyal to the Whitney version wouldn't like it if she didn't live up to that particular way.

* Michael - He's just so good. At first I didn't think I was going to like the song, but he won me over. I hated it for him that they were out of time and had to rush through it all because he deserved more time to enjoy the praise for that one.

So my bottom 3? Well I'd say Ramiele and Kristy Lee (country fans at least can spread the love this week since they got a dose of everyone trying it?) are my two shoo-ins. My third vote is torn between Jason, Brooke, and Syesha. I don't want any of them to be there, but since Jason was there last week, I question the strength of his fan base...Brooke might be in danger if people were wanting something less safe, and if the Whitney thing gets the best of Syesha, she could be in trouble.

I'd say Ramiele or Kristy Lee should be the one to go, though.

Bits for Sunday, March 30, 2008

I took a look at the content of my posts this week and my only topics were American Idol and the quality of the ply of toilet paper at my work. Needless to say, I don’t think I have much of anything deep or meaningful running through my brain right now. I could, however, use a laugh, so I dug into the annals of both my life and writing and found this, which I thought you might find humorous. I know this is a bit longer than I normally write to you…but hopefully you’ll find it worth the extra time…and certainly of more entertainment value than toilet paper. I wrote this my senior year of college and it was requested by my peers to be the paper I read at the senior reading. I’m not sure what that said about the overall quality of my work…but with a unanimous vote (and a very red face in parts) I read it anyway.

I’ve never cared much for doctors. When I was little, I didn’t like them because I got strep throat every winter, and the doctors always stuck those giant Q-Tips down my throat to get a culture. When I was in kindergarten, my strep throat infection spread so much they had to admit me to the hospital. And while there, I had my finger pricked for blood tests so often that I had no desire to ever repeat the experience. The last time I went to an actual doctor was in sixth grade when I fell off my bike and broke my leg. I decided at that moment in life I would avoid doctors at all costs in the future. And I have, for the most part…until last summer.

I came down with a minor sore throat while on vacation. I took aspirin and ignored it. That usually works. But on the eight-hour ride home, it got worse. It didn’t hurt to talk, but my throat closed so much that I could barely swallow. In fact, for the next two days I lived on ice cream, because it was the only thing I could swallow. My roommate at the time hadn’t been feeling well either, and one day she announced that she had been to the clinic, and she had strep. I cringed. I could see that whole kindergarten hospital experience about to be repeated.

“Did they weigh you at the clinic?” I asked her. I hate that about doctors.

“No.”

“Did they stick a giant Q-Tip down your throat?”

“No.”

“What exactly did they do?”

“They looked at my throat with the flashlight, said I had strep, gave me drugs, and sent me home.”

This was my kind of doctor’s appointment, I decided. No scales. No Q-Tip. Medicine. I was all for it. The next morning, I called my friend Cathy and asked her to drive me to the clinic. She called ahead and found out they had a long waiting list, so she called another clinic and made an appointment for me there. I figured one clinic was as good as the next, so I agreed to go. Big mistake.

I spent about fifteen minutes filling out paperwork when I got there. While I wrote, I watched the receptionist fill black and dark purple balloons with helium and decorate the back room of the clinic. I sincerely hoped she was decorating for an over-the-hill party and not a funeral.

At last a nurse came to get me. She was armed with a file newly created just for me. I didn’t want a file. I wanted medicine, and I wanted to go to bed. I was headed straight for the room on the right when that nurse said to me, “Stop here, hon.”

I hate it when strangers call me “hon.” I looked over to where she was pointing. Scales. I stopped right in front of them, just like she said. She never said to get on the scales, but apparently, from the look on her face, that was precisely what she wanted me to do. I got on, and while she fidgeted with the weight measurements with one hand, she pulled up the height measurement with the other.

“You’re 5’4”,” she announced. I panicked. I’ve been 5’6” for about four years now, and anyone who cannot accurately measure height should not have access to my medical records.

The nurse put me in the examining room and did all the temperature and blood pressure things. She told me to wait for the nurse practitioner, so I did as I was told. Pretty soon, the nurse practitioner walked in. She was wearing a sleeveless red dress and black heels. I thought, Correct me if I’m wrong, but shouldn’t you have a white coat or a badge or something that lets me know you have the authority to do what you are about to do? The woman opened up the file and began at the beginning.

“You have a sore throat today?”

“Uh-huh. And a little bit of an ear ache. My roommate just came home with strep.” I know you’re not supposed to suggest a diagnosis to doctors, but I just wanted to get this whole visit over and go to bed.

“So when was your last visit to the gynecologist?”

“Excuse me?”

“The gynecologist. I see that you’re twenty-one. You should go to the gynecologist when you’re eighteen and every two years after that until you’re thirty and then every year after that.”

“Oops.” What was I supposed to say? I’ll worry about that later. Now I have a sore throat. I’m not an anatomy expert, but I think she was worried about the wrong end of the body.

“It’s real easy, hon. We just take a tool and…” I quit listening. I didn’t even want to think about that right now. “…and we do offer that here. You need to think about having that done.”

She moved on. I was so glad.

“Are you sexually active?”

I almost got up and walked out at that point. What did it matter? I had a sore throat, and that was all I cared about. Instead of saying all that flooded into my mind at that moment, I simply replied, “No.”

“I see here that you drink caffeine. Do you drink a lot?” She gave me that squinty I-hope-you-won’t-say-yes-but-I-think-you-will-look.

“Depends,” I answered. I was thinking, Lady, if you were going into your senior year of college with no clue about what you want to do when you grow up, working a full time job, and trying to keep good grades, you’d take in as much caffeine as is required each day to make your life bearable.
“Well,” she said, “you really shouldn’t have more than two glasses of caffeinated beverages a day, okaaaaaaay?” She talked to me like English was not my native language. I nodded. She never said what size glasses those two should be. I could drink two sixty-four ounce Mountain Dews and still be in her limit.

“So what did your grandparents die of?” I know I gave her a look on that one. I didn’t know I was going to have a full interview. She hadn’t even looked at my throat. I tried to think.

“I don’t know…cancer?”

“Mmmmm.” I figured I was due for a lecture on cancer exams now. “Which ones died of cancer?”

“I think my Dad’s Dad did. I don’t know. It was before my time. I think Dad’s Mom did, too.”

“Cancer of the what?”

“Colon?” At this point I was thinking, Pick a body part, any body part, hope it’s feasible to get cancer there, and be sure to avoid the throat. Well, she liked my answer so much, she wrote it down.

“And how about your Mom’s parents?”

“I think Grandpa died of…you know, I have no idea what he died of. He had a lot of things wrong with him. And Grandma had some strange disease that eventually made her heart stop beating.” After all, isn’t that what ultimately kills everyone?
“How are your parents?”

“Oh they’re fine.” In perfect health, I wanted to add. That is why I am here with a sore throat and they are at home with fine throats.
The lady finally got around to looking at my ears and throat. She called for a throat culture. I said with fear in my voice, “Is that, by chance, the giant Q-Tip?” She nodded.

The incompetent nurse returned to do the culture. “I’ll throw up,” I threatened.

“No you won’t.”

“I’m pretty sure I will.” I distinctly remember when I was in the hospital that time in kindergarten and I made such a threat, the nurses held my hand. They also talked loudly and tried to distract me so I’d forget the giant Q-Tip was playing Twister with my tonsils.
This lady apparently did not graduate from the same friendly institution. She just stuck a puke pan under my chin and said, “Here. In case you throw up.”

She did the throat culture, and I was so mad at her that I refused to throw up. She left for a while, and while she was gone, I made a solemn vow to never recommend this place to anyone, no matter how much I disliked them. The nurse came back a few minutes later and stuck a Polaroid camera in my face. “We take a picture of all our new patients on their first visits.”

You have to understand that I looked horrible. I had not brushed my hair. I was wearing no makeup. Not even zit concealer. My clothes were dirty because they were the only ones I could find that morning. This was not how I wanted to be remembered every time someone opened my file. She didn’t care. She took the picture anyway.

My favorite nurse left again and returned a few moments later. She handed me a giant sticker that showed a cartoon turtle with a thermometer in his mouth. It said, “I need some T.L.C.” I was slightly offended, so I said to her, “My boyfriend is 500 miles away from here right now. This is not going to help me.”

As a consolation prize, she stuck out three Dum-Dum suckers and said, “Pick a flavor!” I was thinking, What! I am twenty-one years old and you are giving me a sticker and a sucker?
The nurse practitioner returned in her red dress and black heels with five days of complimentary antibiotics and a prescription for the other five days. I took one look at those pills…they were the size of three aspirins put together! I could barely swallow water at that point, and she expected me to swallow those horse pills? I politely thanked her and left that examining area as fast as I could.

I left that clinic as fast as I could. I still have no idea why the nurse practitioner wore a sleeveless red dress and black heels instead of the traditional white coat. I don’t know why they were decorating the back room with black and purple balloons. But there is one thing I do know: next time I’m going to a real doctor!

One More Thing About the TP

What a week! Our busy season is officially upon us at work and the loss of my entire mind and sanity...extremely probable.

Because of this, the level of deep thoughts from my mind...minimal. The level of totally chaotic ramblings....well, expect it.

So today I had another toilet paper observation to tack onto the previous discussions found somewhere in a post below that I'm entirely too tired to link at this moment.

I think Kristin was the one who left a comment about how the work bathrooms sometimes put in the TP so it comes out the wrong way. And today I made the following additional observation about work TP. The size of a full roll of work TP is similar to that of a car's tire. I guess they don't want to change it except every six months or so? I'm not sure. Anyway, the problem is that when the roll is full and you pull on it, it breaks off, leaving you with about an inch of TP...so you try again...and again...and again...and after while, you realize you have this fist full of TP shreds and the tire is still firmly affixed to the wall....because the TP is half-ply! It can't support its own weight until it's time to change the roll!

It is a very sad point, I do realize, that after an entire week of having said nothing other than chatter of Idol travesties...all I have to talk about now is toilet paper.

To that I just say, TGIF.

Top Ten

Hey Phats, guess what! I knew TWO songs tonight on Idol! That's more than in the last two weeks COMBINED!!! :) I thought you'd be proud.

* Ramiele - I actually liked the background vocals better than I liked her. Not sure that's a good thing for her, but way to go for them! I agreed with Randy (often, tonight, actually) that she was way off pitch several times.

* Jason - I spent the first half of the song getting over those EYES in that baby picture! I kind of lose the eyes in the dreds now, but when he was a baby and he was bald, you couldn't notice anything else! The second half of the song I spent wondering if he had an aversion to singing a whole song through in English...and alternately laughing because right before I watched Idol, I watched an episode of Friends where Phoebe and Monica were making fun of the way someone said "mo-bile" (in reference to a phone) and his "fragile" reminded me of that. So I'm actually not sure I paid enough attention to the song to know how well he really did.

* Syesha - You go, girl! That was just amazing. I still love her because I think she is one of only two or three in the whole thing who can already pull off the entire star quality factor. I thought she did a super job.

* Chikeze - I know his choice was not popular with the judges, but I actually liked the slower song. I do wish he and Simon would stop trying to outlast each other on arguments. That part gets old after while.

* Brooke - I loved it that she stopped and restarted because I think it made her real. I also love it when she plays the piano. It was 100 times better than last week, and I think she is definitely making a place for herself in music, whether or not she wins this.

* Michael - I really really loved it - and this was one of the two songs I knew. Song totally gets on my nerves, but I thought he did a great job with it and I loved watching the audience really get into it. I agreed with the judges that it was his best night ever.

* Carly - I liked the beginning, but I did NOT love the part where she tried to be a rocker. I was glad Simon agreed with that.

* David A. - I'm still a fan, but I really thought that it sounded like a high school talent show tonight. I was waiting for Simon to say that (since that's one of his commonly used descriptors) but he went the theme park route instead.

* Kristy Lee - Okay first let me say that I do think the song is an amazing song and I appreciate the respect it gives to our country. BUT. It's been played so much that I was not excited that she chose it. I would agree that it was her best, but not the best (by a long shot) that song has ever been performed. But since she'll get all the country music lovers' votes, it was good enough, I'm sure.

* David C. - I want this guy to win it. He's amazing and I loved what he did. Loved it. My favorite of the night.

Bottom 3? You know I never get this right. Um, Ramiele, Chikeze, Carly?

Game Night and Easter

Well, Cara and Phats beat the snot out of me in Dutch Blitz, but this is one of two rounds I did manage to win. I'm pointing to my empty card pile...I was so proud of that because you have no idea how good those two are at this game!

We played a new (to us anyway) game this time called Three for All. It was pretty fun, and Phats won the first round - so Cara posed as the loser.


And this was the Easter dress. I especially appreciate how you can STILL see my tan line (at the sock level) from last year. Good grief.

And Then Sometimes It Is

Okay so if you read about yesterday, this is the conclusion of the photo lab story. I wrestled with whether or not to say anything when I picked up my pictures today. The consumer part of me wanted to ask for some sort of compensation for stuff not being ready when they said it would be. The works-in-customer-service part of me didn't want to become that customer that creates the need for exceptions and checking with the manager and all that.

I was definitely not the poster child for filing a complaint. This is how it went. I approached the counter where a very nice and coherent-looking woman that I've never seen before was working. I said (while twisting my purse handle and looking down) "Um, I know that maybe there's nothing you can do about this, but for what it's worth, I came to get these last night when they were supposed to be ready well before closing time and they weren't done and while that might not be a big deal in the grand scheme, I didn't even get an apology or anything...and..." (at this pointed I decided to just stop rambling.

She said, "Well I heard they had paper jam problems last night. Do you want to check your pictures to see if they're okay?"

I said, "Well, I'm sure they're fine. It's just that I intended to send them out to someone and then I couldn't and..."

And then came the famous, "Let me check with the manager." Rats. I became that person.

But it worked out. The manager gave them to me for half price.

And to top it all off - front row parking. AND I managed to locate my OWN car this time.

Sometimes it Just isn't Your Day

This morning I was actually RELIEVED for the alarm to sound. That's never good on a Monday. I'm not sure what I ate or drank (or didn't eat or drink) before bedtime last night that led to this, but I had entire night packed full of the most awful dreams. I kept waking up and I would go back to sleep thinking that waking up would solve the problem...but no. I'd have more dreams.

I went to the shower to discover that the shower head which has been working fine since I fixed it on Saturday...has in fact, unfixed itself. I didn't have time to mess with it, so I tossed all my showering stuff in a towel and carted it to the other bathroom. It's been a while since I used that shower and it turns out that the water actually pelts you as it comes out of the shower head. I did not appreciate the pelting of hot water after so little sleep.

The day at work actually went fairly well - another scary thing. Whenever you have a Monday (when you're down two people at work, no less) that is actually GOOD during office hours and BAD off the clock? That's not a good sign.

Anyway, so I came home, decided for once in my life to exercise early instead of after I'd completely run out of energy, changed into my workout clothes, climbed onto the elliptical...

Batteries are dead.

Fortunately I remembered that I also had pictures to drop off to the photo lab, so I changed back into the non-workout clothes, drove to Wal mart, dropped off the pictures with 40 minutes to spare before they stopped processing for the night and came home. I figured I would go back in an hour, pick up the pictures along with the batteries, come home, exercise, and still be done early. While I waited, I redid a scrapbook page (finished it over the weekend...a baby page...and today I got the birth announcement in the mail, so of course I had to include that), and then back in the car I went.

I arrived at the photo lab to find the "Here's the envelopes if you want to drop off pictures" display out and the lab guy cleaning equipment at the back. I've played this game before. I re-read the posted hours which said "lab open until 9 pm, last drop off of pictures one hour before closing." So I stood there. I'm fairly certain he saw me a couple of times before he actually acknowledged me. He hunted around for my pictures, couldn't find them, hunted some more...finally discovered my request ticket on the printer. With no apology, he told me that they hadn't "come through" until he'd shut down the equipment for the night. When had I come in? I said, "An hour ago...and I omitted the part where he watched me put in my order at the little computer.

I guess I'll see what kind of fighting mood I'm in tomorrow. I have my "this is not a receipt" that clearly states my photos will be ready for pickup at 8:21 pm TODAY. So, Cara, if you're reading this, THIS is why you don't have an email full of pictures from game night. They're not DONE YET.

At this point, I had to wonder...why do I continue to put myself through the Wal Mart hassle?

I used to take all my pictures to CVS, but I began to have problems with them chopping off random (and sometimes necessary) parts of my pictures, so I stopped.

Then I went to Wal-Greens, but the last straw there was at Christmas when they printed all 125 of my Christmas card pictures in some really bad quality and then gave me a bit of hassle over fixing them at no charge.

So for all of this, I have concluded that I will welcome the arrival of Meijer in town...perhaps I will enjoy their photo lab?

And just as a bit of polish on my evening...I walked out into the parking lot, still rather steamed over my picture fiasco, strolled confidently toward my car, and as I nearly approached the driver's door, I hit the remote lock...and definitely heard the car BEHIND me unlock. Woops. I was headed straight for my car's twin. I did an embarrassing about-face and slid into my car before anyone (that I could see) saw me.

Perhaps tomorrow will be better?

Easter Pageant Pictures

My Sunday post is two posts down...but since I talked about the Easter Pageant, I thought I would post a few pictures I have.

This was the part that was happening on stage when I was sneaking out the side during the Hallelujah chorus (that will make sense if you read the post below) - so I didn't see it for many years. Once I switched roles, I got to sneak a peek (supposed to be "sleeping" while this happened) and watch it. The tomb always fascinated me because there was some sort of screen over the entrance, so the person inside always looked...not like a person. It gave that "angel" thing more of a real feeling.

Oh Mom would not be amused to know I have posted this, so don't tell her, okay? This was a picture...probably from when I was about a fifth grader (judging from the hair) of our "Pilgrim Family 3." The Pageant took place in a coliseum and the whole basketball floor was the "stage" - along with an actual stage at the end of it. Because we were so far away from the crowd (who sat in the bleachers), we had to wear heavy makeup so we didn't look washed out. After the Pageant on Sunday morning, we would rush home and have to scrub all the makeup off our faces, hands, and legs (anything that showed had to be made up) and then start over getting ready for church. I was usually finding traces of makeup even after several showers. That stuff stayed around forever!

More Memories

This picture shows the cymbal girls dancing through the lines of harpists. I always loved this part of the pageant, because it was so fun to watch the crowd. I would sit just to the right of all the guys in the lower part of the picture, and I would always turn my attention to the people in the bleachers across from me. Those who hadn't seen the production before had no idea how loud those cymbals were going to be when they crashed...and they'd all jump and then try to look around as though it hadn't startled them. Very funny. I sat right in front of the orchestra during that part, so I got the full ear-brunt of the cymbal crash. The cymbals they used for this song were enormous and for many years, the lady who played them was this itty bitty petite lady...actually about the same size as the cymbals. I had no idea how she could manage them, but did she ever!

I'm actually in this one...that's me there on the step in the pink costume and white head piece. This was the part where the Christus (that was what they called the man who played Jesus in the Pageant) blessed the children. I don't remember much about this part because pretty much by the time I was old enough to have Pageant memories, I was too tall to be in the blessing scene.


I was probably about 22 or so the first time I ever saw this scene, and it mesmerized me once I saw it in full costume and makeup. For the first 20 or so years I was in the Pageant, the role I played was offstage during the Last Supper scene, so I never saw it. But in college, I switched roles and got to stay out on the floor the entire time, so I was laying down on the floor with a perfect shot of this amazing scene. The curtain went up and the Christus and all the disciples were perfectly still in the pose of the famous painting. They'd break the pose to do the Last Supper and then go back into the pose as the curtain went down.

Back in the "good" days of the Pageant, this cross-bearing scene was always really powerful because the director would ask the crowd to get all riled up and fight against the line of soldiers holding them back. When the lady who directed for many years had to stop and someone else took her place, this part never had quite as much power behind it.

This is actually a postcard that they made one year...and our family is on it! It is obviously quite an old picture, because I'm that little girl in pink being held by her father right next to the soldier. Mom is the one in yellow beside us. I was always most nervous during this part because the whole room was dark except for the lights right over the stage - and it would get so hot up there. I always figured if I'd ever be likely to pass out, it would happen right at this moment.

Bits for Sunday, March 23, 2008

Happy Easter! I noticed just a moment ago that giant snowflakes are flitting about outside…seems inappropriate for Easter Sunday, but I’m just thankful they waited until nightfall and that the day itself was filled with beautiful sunshine, even if the temps were a bit on the frigid side.

I know I’ve written something to this effect before (probably every year) but Easter still just doesn’t feel the same to me since the Easter Pageant ceased to exist a few years ago. This morning’s newspaper had an editorial that said in closing, “Perhaps the performance has gone through its own Good Friday and its resurrection waits.” I’ll admit, I’m skeptical. I doubt it will ever return, and if it does, and it’s altered (a.k.a. scaled down) in any way from the way I knew it for twenty-something years, it will be tough to see. But that just comes from a girl who resists change.

Last night, as I sat propped up in bed, bawling my fool head off over my week-old Biggest Loser tape, I glanced at the clock, which glared a red 1:45 a.m. and found myself very thankful that I didn’t have to be out of bed in an hour and fifteen minutes to head for a rousing round of freezing makeup. That was always my least favorite part…the forcing myself to go to bed at 9 or 10 the night before Easter and then tossing and turning while I watched the clock propel forward…and then that nasty alarm sounding, and I could only hope to stay awake enough to drive coherently.

But even with the sunrise service and its cold, cold four a.m. makeup call, I loved the Pageant, and I miss it. I thought about watching the DVD of it last night just for posterity’s sake, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I like to watch it…but somehow watching it this weekend…the weekend that it should have been…I just couldn’t do it.

This morning when I finally responded to the blaring of the alarm (I always know it’s time to actually pay attention to it when the cats become annoyed at the snoozing and stand over my head to wake me up), I was so excited to see the sunshine peeking around the edges of the blinds. I knew it would be ten times colder than it looked…and I shivered just thinking about the sleeveless dress and strappy sandals…but hey. Not my fault Easter showed up so early this year!

Easter Sunday at church is always fun…the one time a year that even those who vehemently resist dressing up might actually surprise everyone. And then there’s all these boys – from the month old baby to the 10 year old – sporting ties and vests, and probably hating every minute of it. During donut time, I was holding Liam (who is almost two) and he proceeded to pitch a tiny fit, which his father and I tried to quickly stop…and once he stopped kicking, I noticed his poor tie had started to come undone all around his collar. So while he half-glared at me for spoiling his fun, I was trying to poke the edges of the tie back into his collar…thinking that for all the annoyances of dresses and heels, sometimes guys have it so much worse. Even 2 year olds.

I spent too long hovering in the donut room with Liam and slid into church just as service was beginning. Bad mistake to make on Easter Sunday. One of two Sundays a year that the sanctuary is always packed, and I pick that Sunday to show up late. Of course the first couple of rows had seats to spare, but I prefer the back, so I spotted the first open aisle and sat down. In someone’s family pew. Woops. During the prayer, I scooted across the aisle to sit with some friends who had saved me a seat (but I didn’t see them), and that was when my little “Easter Pageant moment” hit.

I’d noticed that the sanctuary was quite dark when I came in. (Hunting seats goes much easier in the light.) The lights were dimmed and the windows were covered…mysterious, but certainly it lent itself to atmosphere. After I slid into the pew across the way during prayer, I noticed it seemed lighter. While it was a relief to have someone to sit with on Easter – I doubted it would actually create that much of a lighter feeling in my mind. So I peeked. The lights in the sanctuary were on, the cross at the front was lit up, and the last covering on the outside window was being removed…and suddenly it really felt like Easter.

And that was what brought me back to the Pageant days. Because for as exhausting as it was to get up at 3 for makeup at 4, it was always so nice to sneak out the side door of the building (to beat the crowds) as the Hallelujah chorus played – loudly – and walk out into full-fledged sunlight. That made it Easter.

So even though the day was different from the Easters I knew and loved, it was still a good day. And someday, I’m just sure of it, I’ll find a new tradition. It can’t replace the original one, but it can definitely fill a void.

The Commercial Wal-Mart

Today was my "no" day. I have one of those every month. I don't make plans with anyone...I don't schedule any appointments...I don't even have to do my hair if I don't feel like it. It's just a day to rest up and do whatever I want...or not do anything and not feel guilty about it.

So today I read half a book...did a couple of scrapbook pages...made some little bird nest things (from chocolate and chow mein noodles) for the family Easter lunch tomorrow...talked on the phone...watched some TV...exercised...fixed the shower head so it would work better...sorted pictures...

And somewhere in the middle of all that, I saw the Wal-Mart commercial. Three times. A happy little tune played while all these chipper looking checkout people happily scanned items and bagged them and smiled lovingly at one another across the cash registers. The lines were refreshingly short and just as they started to get too long (too long being over two carts waiting), more eager employees rushed to open new lanes, sporting big smiles as they welcomed weary shoppers to their aisle.

WHERE IS THIS WAL MART? I want to shop there.

Good Old 14A

Lori, I did that just for you. :)

I cannot tell you how HAPPY I am to see the sun peeking up over the side of the building outside my window! I was getting pretty weary of rain and had hoped for this beautiful first day of spring, we'd get to see the sun even for a second. Not being one who watches weather forecasts, I have no idea if it plans to stay for the entire day, but I'm glad it showed up for the occasion.

So happy first day of spring...and for those of you who are confused about the Good Old 14A title, that's a line from an Andy Griffith show. The choir was singing the song "Welcome Sweet Springtime" - and Barney couldn't sing on key. But he was so excited to be in the choir that he wanted to keep practicing the song, which was number "Good Old 14A."

Lori and I are Andy fans...and once upon a time faced off in an Andy Trivia game.

I lost.

Badly.

Top Eleven

Jaye, I hope you got to see the show tonight so you can tell me what you thought - maybe we agreed?

* Amanda - This week I gave up and turned on the captions early. It's a good thing I did because once again I understood only about 20% of what she said. Having said that, I think it was the best SHE has ever done, and I liked the presence of energy that has been lacking before. I thought she connected with the audience better this time than ever before.

* Kristy Lee - Well, her low notes sounded really off key to me. I'm not the greatest detector of pitch, but several times I wondered if she was way off or if it was supposed to sound like that. I agreed with the judges that she just tried to play it way safe. And I'm still laughing about her comment to Simon.

* David A. - Phats, I'm sorry, I know that he annoys you, but I just loved him. I was so happy for him that he remembered all his words and redeemed himself from last week. I thought it was beautiful and it was probably my favorite of the night.

* Michael - I didn't know the song, but I was scared for him when he started singing after I heard him say he'd picked a long song and tried to pick out the best parts. That can't be good. I thought he was off pitch a few times too. It was really funny that Paula made the big deal about the monitors and then he wasn't wearing any!

* Brooke - Oh bless her heart; I still just love her to pieces but she seemed so NERVOUS! I hated that for her. It wasn't nearly as good as she can do, but I still love her and I do appreciate her choice to at least try something different.

* David C. - I just love him (sorry Phats, I know his hair bugs you). The voice box thing (or whatever they called it) was fun, I thought, and I love it when he uses the guitar too. I like it that he's trying to show people (much as Amanda said she was doing) what they would get if they came to one of his concerts.

* Carly - Well, I tried. I really tried again to like her. This week I determined that if I had closed my eyes, I probably would have loved the song, because her voice sounded great. But once again, bottom line, she scares me. Watching her scares me.

* Jason - Oh so corny. He was a charming cutie (Jaye) but so corny. I thought half the time he had almost an apologetic look on his face...like he was sorry we had to watch/listen to that. I agreed that it was awkward.

* Syesha - She's BAAAAAACK! I loved it. I really hope that she doesn't follow in the Haley/Katharine footsteps of relying on looks to step up votes, because she is way better than that. But I loved her song.

* Chikeze - CONFUSED ME. I agreed with the judges that he had multiple singing personalities up there. I would just get used to one style and he'd switch. That's a lot of change for a minute thirty of music. I was with Simon about the harmonica, too.

* Ramiele - Way better than last week. Definitely more fun. But not my favorite of the night.

Bottom 3? I would say Kristy Lee, Michael, Brooke, Chikeze, and Ramiele could all be in danger of the bottom 3. If I were picking, I'd put Kristy Lee and Chikeze in for sure, and I can't decide between Michael and Brooke for the third spot. (Both Michael and Brooke deserve to stay, ultimately.) My pick for elimination would be Kristy Lee.

Bits for Sunday, March 16, 2008

This week I went to a poetry reading. Yes, you read that right. Poetry. For those of you who attend my church and were present on the famous “bachelorette” night – you will recall that I said out loud that I am not a poet. Can’t write it, can barely understand it, and retained my honor scholarship despite that class in college only through the immense grace and mercy of my professor.

Nevertheless, I went to a poetry reading this week. The poet, Susanna Childress, was in college with me – actually a year behind me in school. She was one of those writers that made all the English and writing professors tingle with joy because she was so good. To say she has a gift is an understatement. She knows how to properly use words that I’m still sounding out. She can do things with her writing craft (probably with little effort) that I couldn’t even begin to understand after having a four year degree in the subject.

Yet the thing I loved about Susanna was that she was a real and fun friend. There were many writers in my classes who intimidated me profusely when we had to participate in the dreaded peer-editing exercises. They handed me the next great American literature fresh off their printer, and I handed them what felt like the next draft of a Berenstein Bear book. And Susanna was the one that intimidated me most because I was so afraid that she would be bored with what I wrote…and I would be too stupid to understand what she wrote. But those fears were in my mind only, and she was always so much fun in and out of class. Full of life and personality, she had a way of easing my fear of her intelligence and ability.

Well, Susanna has since graduated…and graduated again with a master’s degree…and graduated again with a doctorate…and gotten married…and published a book of poetry…and currently she’s a guest professor at a college in Michigan.

So you can well imagine why, as I drove the few blocks from my house to the reading, I was secretly hoping she might not remember me and if she did remember me, I fervently hoped she wouldn’t ask what I was doing these days. So little has changed for me since I knew her before that I had to make sure I wore something to the reading that I didn’t own in college…I at least wanted her to know I’d purchased a new outfit here and there!

I arrived at the reading, which was filled with college students who were required to go to such things…and I remembered those days for me. Oh how I love being out of school! I walked in and amazingly enough, she spotted me before I even saw her! She ran right up and gave me a hug…so much for remaining anonymous.

The evening began, and she took her place behind the microphone and began reading from her book, and I began trying to decipher such words as convivial, fricatives, parsimonious, and stratagem. She promised during one poem that I would be able to catch a glimpse of some sort of rhyme…but truly, the only rhyme I’m smart enough to follow is in the style of Dr. Seuss. And Susanna doesn’t write about green eggs and ham, or Horton hearing a Who.

The reading ended and I had a minute or two to catch up with my friend…during which time she asked me the dreaded question of “So what have you been up to since college?” I took a deep breath and zoned in on the main accomplishment I could find – getting a house. She looked straight at me and said “Ohhhhhh I’m so jealous of that! I’m going to spend the next two years commuting every week between two states and teaching at two colleges. I would just love to have a house and settle down.”

Another one of those moments when I’m sure God was sitting there nodding and saying “See?? I try to tell you and you just don’t pay attention to Me.” Yes, yes. There I was, face to face with the published, doctorate-holding, happily-married friend of mine, and still there was something about life in Bekah-land that could hold some merit in her mind.

So I can’t write poetry. It’s okay. I made peace with that a long time ago. I’m perfectly satisfied to be able write the way I write. So I don’t have my doctorate. It’s okay. I probably have more gray hair than she does, but at least I came about it without the stress of writing a dissertation.

Before I left the reading, I purchased her book. She gets eleven cents a copy and I wanted to help the cause. I read through a few of the poems. I would have to do some serious studying to grasp even a fraction of their well-honed craft. But I am excited for her that she was able to publish this book and I’m glad to own a copy. And while she pursues teaching and publishing book number two, I’m going to enjoy my settled life in my (currently unsettled from cooking-clutter) house.

In the Footsteps of Jesus...

Back on January 1, I posted about the first of fifty "must read" (in my opinion) books. If I choose a new book every 2 1/2 months, at the end of a decade, I'll have a list of fifty books that I think everyone should read at some point in life. Today I bring you book #2. It's called In the Footsteps of Jesus: One Man's Journey Through the Life of Christ.

I happened upon this book in December 2007 during an impulsive shopping trip to a Christian discount bookstore. My hands were already tired of holding a very heavy shopping basket, but the store was going out of business and I just couldn’t pass up the deals as I walked the aisles. This was the very last book I tossed in – I found it hidden among other books of subject matter that didn’t interest me. I purchased it more out of curiosity than anything else, but I now count it as one of the most soul-changing purchases I ever made.

In 1993, a man named Regardt Van Den Bergh began filming a four-hour, word-for-word depiction of the Gospel of Matthew. Bruce Marchiano portrayed Jesus in Regardt’s film, and this book is his testimony of how that role forever changed not only his life, but the way he related to his Savior.

The closing words of the preface to the book, written by Bruce himself, say this: Lord Jesus, thank You that You know us so well, so specifically. Thank You that You know every heart, every dream, every hope, desire, and circumstance. O mighty God Jehovah, let not one of us walk away without a fresh look at You, a fresh touch from You, a fresh understanding of You. Father, I submit us all to be loved, to be held, to be embraced by You. To be filled with Your joy. To hear Your heart and taste the warmth of Your smile. In your precious name. Amen. (p. xii)
I experienced a bit of each part of that prayer as I read through Bruce’s book and underwent a transformation in the way I knew and related to Jesus. I’ve known Jesus all my life, and even though I had experienced His love and direct involvement in my life, there was still a side of me that related to Him as Someone Who was a bit unapproachable. But after reading Bruce’s interpretation of Jesus as He interacted with those whose lives He touched, I now approach my time with God in an entirely different way. A real way.

This book is filled with excerpts from Bruce’s journal, stories of specific scenes that touched his heart, the support of the cast and crew who enabled him (through prayer, encouragement, and Scripture reading) to complete this enormous task of quoting Jesus’ words in the book of Matthew verbatim. He shares the experiences of his life that shaped him to play this role and how those same experiences shaped him as a Christian; he also offers glimpses into the lives of the extras who thought they were just playing a filler-role in a movie, but ended up changed forever by their brush with the real Jesus through the filming of a Gospel. There are also pictures from the set to help explain the emotion in ways that even words cannot grasp.

Since this book was such a recent purchase, I’ve only read it through completely one time, but I am convinced that God’s blessing rests heavily on these pages. At the time I read it, I was also reading another book that started digging through my heart and revealing difficult things about me. Each night, I would read the tough book first and then I would reach for this one to find a bit of joy and comfort so that I would be able to sleep when I went to bed. And each time, the love and mercy of God that I so needed to find were waiting within the pages of Bruce’s story.

Here are some quotes from throughout the 218 page book:

He had no problem fully being who He fully was and fully living what He fully felt, every full moment of every full day…as hard as He laughed and as big as He smiled, that’s how hard He wept and how deeply His heart broke. (p. 78)

His every move, every word, every healing, every rebuke, every drop of blood – an act of love! From the moment He lay in the manger to the day He disappeared behind the clouds – all acts of love. (p. 92)

For the first time in my life, I understood what the word “compassion” means when it comes to Jesus Christ. I understood that it isn’t just feeling sorry for people; it’s a heartbreak so intense, so deep it’s like your gut is ripped open. It is a heartbreak that screams in utter agony for the needless, pointless pain of people – people who need only turn to Him. What I felt that day was so incredibly tragic. And there can be no doubt what I tasted was just a drop of water in the oceans of the universe compared to what it truly feels like for Him. (p. 116)

It’s a picture of Jesus we seldom think about: perspiring in the sun from dawn to dusk, hoisting timbers, carving, shaping, sawing, sanding. Panting in the afternoon heat, hair matted with dirt and dust and workshop grime. Working endless hours into the night, pushing to meet deadlines over the days, weeks, years. Singing psalms at the top of His lungs while planning doors, carving plows, and fitting ox yokes. (p. 125)

Every believer should wear a crown of thorns and hang on a cross for ten seconds – they would never be the same. And I can’t help but feel that every non-believer would accept Christ on the spot if he did the same. I have never felt so alone, so naked, so ugly, so emotionally bare – and I was just play-acting, dipping my toe into the experience of the cross. What He did for us! He chose it! (p. 177)
I realize that some people may be wary of a book like this because for a person to take on the role of playing Jesus could bring about the writing of opinions that could be considered out of line. But I found nothing offensive in the book. Bruce never claims to be Jesus. He simply shares from his heart the experience he had playing the role, and multiple times, he reminds his readers that he experienced only a brief taste of what Jesus would have known. But to read this book is to see into a deeply emotion-filled, hands-on Savior who simply lived each day to love, not threaten or intimidate, His children into eternity.

Toilet Paper Discussions

Perhaps my strangest post ever...

If you visit Malott's blog, you'll see where this discussion began along with a variety of opinions about the proper rolling pattern of the TP.

So, Chris, here you go. I never did win the fight with my camera/computer, so I had to develop these...and have I mentioned that the photo lab people don't even ask my name anymore...they just get my pictures for me? I'm sure they wonder about this one...

OH! And by the way, halfway through my picture taking, I realized my black/white setting was on, so that's the reason for the lack of color. I wasn't trying to be artistic.

Okay here's the bathroom with the freestanding TP holder. As you can see, I have it rolled over the top as we all know it should be rolled. I also opened the dryer door just a little tiny bit so you can see why I have the need to ever move the holder at all...to open the door all the way, I have to swing the arm of the holder around....
...which then makes the TP roll from the underside...which we established, is NOT the correct way to go. Yes, I realize I could just pick the whole thing up and move it, but it's actually kind of heavy. You wouldn't think so, but it is. I'm afraid one day it's going to come apart if I pick it up by the top too much. Oh - and you can see Braeya being a helper girl in this picture too. Never can she leave any event un-participated-in. Not even a toilet photo shoot.

But as I mentioned in my comment to you, this is what I often come home to....

And no. I didn't unroll it to make my point. I came home to it just like this the time I took the pictures.
Sigh. Two year olds.

So close...

Well for being terrible at predictions (no comment, Phats), I was very happy to see that I had at least two of the bottom three right. And this week's performances aside, Syesha had no business in that bottom three. She had a bad night, yes, but she did not deserve to be close to being out this early.

I still hoped it would be Kristy Lee going home, but I was fine with David going instead. By the time they got to the final two, I really didn't care...I was just so relieved Syesha was safe.

But in other news...I forgot to check the TV guide and thought that Idol came on at 8. I was mid-hair-dye at the time, so I didn't change the channel and watched Moment of Truth since it came on. I have seen it a couple of times before but WOW. Last night was ruthless! I think the guy was wise to stop before his wife had a complete mental breakdown. I think they asked way too many marriage questions. Does he have no other facet of life they could probe instead? I'm still not sure how I feel about that show. Yeah the money's great - but so is a sense of privacy!

Kaegan, Idol, and DST

I hate to admit it. Two DAYS into daylight savings and I've already overslept an hour. I'm in big trouble.

But I tried very hard to wake up and participate in the day because it was a way busy day at work, AND...

Kaegan turned seven today. That itty bitty kitty from days gone by is now a well-fed (more so than I realized!) big cat who loves nothing more than a nice, uninterrupted nap on the edge of my bed. Unfortunately his sister rarely affords him that luxury.

I took some pictures today, but my computer and I are at odds over posting them prior to scanning, so until they're developed, here's a couple of pictures from seven years ago...the day after I got the little guy. I don't remember posting them before and I'm too lazy to look...so if they're repeats...sorry.
Kaegan was a gift from one of my college roommates, Christi. The day after I got him was a work day and she missed him so much that she asked me to drop him by her apartment so she could play with him while I worked. He'd never spring for that now. Car rides can only mean one thing: THE VET. Anyway, my buddies at work wanted to see him, so she put him in this little basket and brought him to the office for show and tell.


Yeah, about the hair...it was a rough phase. It has passed. I do miss the tan though. I had just been in a wedding...and so I'd tanned in preparation.
In other news...Idol's top twelve started tonight, and I was surprised. I think this season has more talent than I realized.
* Syesha - I love Syesha, but I was disappointed tonight. She can do so much better than she did...and I hope she has enough fans to get her another chance...I think odds are favorable.
* Chikeze - Shockingly, I loved his performance tonight. Phats, have you forgiven him yet for the comment to Simon? I thought tonight he proved he deserves to stay.
* Ramiele - I agreed with the judges that it was boring. It was kind of depressing, actually. Not because the song was slow, but because she seemed more focused on what/who she had lost in the weeks past (Danny?) than what is ahead of her.
* Jason - Jaye, I'll admit I am now able to see past the dreds and I really like him! I liked him better tonight than any week so far. I hope he stays.
* Carly - I tried valiantly to like her but it did not work for me. I am still so distracted by that massive tattoo against the shiny dress and curly hair that I can't listen to the songs!
* David C. - I just love him. He is like Daughtry for me...the only two who have ever really made me want to sit and listen to rock. He's just great!
* Brooke - I agreed with Paula - she has incredible passion and it comes across...and I feel that she has the courage and passion (not to mention talent) to make it as a singer. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to sit through a whole concert with just one of them, and she is one of the few that I think I would really enjoy listening to song after song...and I think she has enough character to make the talking-in-between-songs time interesting too.
* David A. - I agreed with Simon - very weak. I know he has a more powerful voice than he showed tonight. I didn't care for it.
* Amanda - I really appreciated that she showed some emotion...some life...tonight. Much improved over last week in that respect. But I couldn't understand half of what she said. I didn't know any of tonight's songs, but at least when everyone else sang, I could understand the words. With her, I almost turned on the captions because I was lost.
* Michael - I really like Michael, but like Syesha, I didn't think he did very well tonight. I was kinda bored.
* Kristy Lee - I didn't care for it at all. Because I didn't know the song, I couldn't quite fit in on the controversy of turning it country, but I didn't care for it.
* David A. - Poor lil David. He forgot his words! He has enough fans to sail him through to the next round, I 'm sure.
Based on all that, I would say that the bottom three should be Ramiele, David H. and Kristy Lee, with Kristy Lee going home.

Bits for Sunday, March 9, 2008

Well…I might end up asleep in the keyboard before this is written (HA!), but if I don’t…then I’ll have successfully survived the first day of Daylight Savings Time.

I’ve immensely enjoyed the last five or so months of “real time” as I call it, and for the last week, I’ve been trying to mentally prepare myself for this day and the next seven or so months of “wrong time.”

Actually, I’ve learned to enjoy a couple of things about DST. One thing is that I get to eat an hour earlier every meal…and that’s good. I also get off work at four now (in “real time”) – and I try not to think about how that means I go in at seven. Probably my favorite thing of all, truly, is the ability to have a less rushed evening in the summer. I enjoy being able to walk outside for my exercise and do my yard work and still eat dinner in the daylight. That part is so very nice.

But the adjustment into this really doesn’t go smoothly for me. I tried to explain it to someone at work…someone who grew up in a state that always changed time. She valiantly argued (and probably rightfully so) that it’s just not a big deal and you just start going to bed an hour earlier. Well I sure can do that…but I will just lay there and stare at the ceiling for that hour and then I’ll fall asleep at the time my body is used to conking out. It gets incredibly frustrating. I’ve tried to trick myself…train myself…nothing works.

I hear, though, that it takes a person three years to get used to it, so this is my year. This is the third time Indiana has switched over, so this must be the year. I am making a goal to make it all the way to the end without giving up and allowing my internal clock to revert to “real time.”

Last night I went around the house and changed all the clocks well before my bedtime. I kept telling myself it was later than it really was. I tried to go to bed earlier than I normally would, and I tried to convince myself I was actually tired. I think that whole plan would have gone much more smoothly had I not slept in so late yesterday morning.

This afternoon, when I would have so dearly loved to curl up in the fat chair and be dead to the world for a couple of hours…I forced myself to stand up at the table and scrapbook. When I thought about squeezing in just the tiniest little catnap before church…I made myself go to the kitchen and cook mac ‘n cheese and go to the church dinner.

So I have high hopes that I’ll be exhausted here in a bit and will fall right to sleep…and with one good night under my belt, I won’t even notice the time change.

Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight.

But for the faithful few in my corner of “why mess with the time?” – I found a few pieces of ammunition. I will share them with you at this time.

I heard on the radio this week that the number of vehicle accidents increases the week after a time change (the spring time change…not the fall one where everyone is extra rested). So as you drive to and from work this week…watch out for those of us who haven’t adapted yet.

And I saw on a Yahoo news article this week that DST actually increases utility bills. You can read the whole article here if you want, but to summarize…it said that while light bills go down, heating/cooling bills go up. This happens because in the spring and fall, people are cold in the mornings when they get up for work, so they have to run extra heat. And in the summer, they are home during the heat of the day when they otherwise would be at work, so they have to crank up the air. Granted, the article said the average consumer only pays $3.19 extra per year, but if you add up all the people in Indiana alone, that comes to a grand total of over 8 million dollars per year. And 8 million or not, as a consumer, I can tell you that $3.19 is almost five Polar Teas…almost a Whopper Junior value meal, and almost a caramel frappe with whipped cream and caramel drizzle. It’s also about seventeen pictures at the Wal-Mart photo booth or three hot fudge sundaes at McDonald’s.

So next time someone shoots a list of merits of the DST to you…you’ll have a list of your own to shoot right back.

Well, the hour is getting late…or so I tell myself. So I better post this and head toward bed in hopes of tricking myself further into thinking it is time to sleep.