Bits from Bekah's Life

**see post below for pictures**

Every year, my friend Marie and I head to the lake. It started three or four years ago when her church held a women’s retreat at a conference center on Lake Wawasee. That weekend moved both of us so much that when we went to the retreat the following year, we drove up on our own so we could go early and spend extra time by the lake awaiting another “God-moment.” Though the church stopped having retreats, we continued to drive up for our own day on the pier. God did a lot of speaking to each of us by the side of that lake.

This year we marked off our Saturday and made plans to pack the car with Bibles and journals and sit by the water one more time. Thursday, Marie sent me a text message that said when she’d gone to the conference center’s website to get their phone number, the page said they’d closed permanently and the property was for sale.

I was desperate to still have a Saturday by the water. For the last two weeks I’d been home on my couch trying to feel better. Two sunny Saturdays down the drain because of sickness. I couldn’t bear to lose a third one. And both of us had been so looking forward to a day by the water.

After doing some checking online, I found a backup plan. Another “W” lake – also north of us. Obviously it wouldn’t be the same, but maybe it would be a good day anyway. Yesterday morning we hopped in the car and headed down the path the directions said to take, hoping for a good day.

And a good day it was. We exchanged sitting on the pier’s bench for dipping our bare feet in the slightly chilly waters of a very tiny beach. Instead of journaling, we squished our toes in the sand and hunted for shells (Marie) and ran from fish (me). Rather than hours of sitting, reading, journaling, and pondering…we walked up and down the sidewalks, checking out the shops, giggling at the strange man trying knock out a bee with a pair of scissors, and taking pictures of everything from cute puppies to sidewalk chalk art.

We came home, and though I’d had a very fun day, I wasn’t sure it had accomplished all that this sort of day should have accomplished in my heart. Lake days were supposed to be about revelation and goose bumps and renewed spirit. Not just walking the beach and shopping.

I came home and picked up a book I’d long ago laid aside for no particular reason. I was about halfway done with it and became distracted by other books, but yesterday it seemed important that I pick it up. The book is called Loving God with All Your Mind, and it was written by one of my favorite authors – Elizabeth George. The chapter ready for me talked about focusing forward, and these words awaited me:

My husband told me about a woman who lived in her dream home on a lake in middle America, thoroughly enjoying the quiet setting and leisurely pace of country living. Her husband had a once-in-a-lifetime career opportunity that required that they move to Los Angeles. She, however, had no desire to relocate, especially to Los Angeles! So she stayed by her lake…and her husband passed on his golden opportunity.

Don’t you wonder if perhaps this woman and wife mistakenly thinks “the prize” is to reside on waterfront property instead of attaining the spiritual maturity that comes with forgetting the past, reaching forward, and pressing ahead toward “the upward call of God in Christ Jesus?” Leaving her lake meant taking a risk, making a move, and growing her faith through new changes and challenges. In this woman’s case, her comfort may actually cause her faith to stop growing and her pursuit of excellence to wane.

I just shook my head. Here I was, all worried that the day had been a heart-loss because I’d not been able to sit in my familiar seat by the familiar water and hear new words. And yet God was reminding me that sometimes I have to take a risk, leave my lake, make a move, and see what He can do by fresh water.

Yesterday I didn’t take my journal. I didn’t even write in the sand on the beach. The closest I got to writing was when I scribbled “It’s a happy day” in sidewalk chalk outside one of the shops. But even without my trusty pen in hand, God was able to do something. He was able to work in my heart and refresh my spirit and make me excited about moving forward.

And just in case we go back next year – I’ve scoped out the perfect places to sit with a journal and a pen. Just in case.

Lake Time!

Every fall, my friend Marie and I go to the lake. Normally this is kind of a one day "connect with God" sort of outing for us. For the last four (I think) years, we've gone up to Lake Wawasee and spent time on the grounds of the Oakwood Inn. There is a pier there that has become special to each of us, because God has spoken to us in pretty powerful ways in that spot.

So, several weeks ago, we reserved this day for our annual pilgrimage. Thursday Marie checked their website to get their phone number and found a message that said the entire campus was closed and the property was for sale. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!

I did some scrambling and found a plan B for us. It was very different from what we normally do, but we had so much fun anyway - and it was my first Saturday out of bed in three weeks because of this stupid flu/cold thing I had. So I was just thrilled to be on the OUTSIDE of my house!

We decided to go up to Winona Lake. Neither of us had been there before, so armed with Mapquest directions, coffee, and a full tank of gas, we started our adventure. I sometimes wonder how Mapquest arrives at its paths...we certainly had a scenic route there! We passed a double wide log cabin, a home with a periwinkle garage door, and a home with a coral garage door! How colorful!

Our first order of business was to find a place where we could see the lake. We found a little park that had a very tiny beach. Given that it's the last weekend in September, the beach was empty. So we were able to sit and enjoy the late morning view:

Marie and me. We were in the lifeguard tower, actually.


No lifeguards on duty today, so we took the opportunity to have a photo shoot. It was a pretty fun place to sit and overlook the lake.

After we spent some time at the lake, we went to eat lunch (my pictures got out of order here - oops!) and then we went shopping. The Village at Winona is this little area just across from the campus of Grace College - kind of a Brown County sort of feel. Little artisan shops everywhere. One of the last shops we visited had a big bucket of bubbles with this huge handmade bubble wand in it - just sitting out - so anyone could use it. They also had a bucket of sidewalk chalk. Marie blew bubbles and I added to the art others had begun.

After we'd shopped for a while, we discovered this cute little island park. I'm not sure if it was part of Grace's campus or if it was part of the Village area - but it had this little pond (with a fountain!) and an island in the center. We walked over the bridge and sat in the chairs overlooking the fountain. It was such a perfect day - warm and sunny.

At the end of the day, we went back to the "beach." It was pretty hot by this time, so we went wading. Marie was much braver than I. As soon as the fish started nibbling at my toes, I went running for the edge of the water. I'm not so much into the fish actually TOUCHING me. There was a cute little kid splashing around in the water trying to catch a fish with his sand bucket. Marie tried to help him. I just walked up and down the edge of the water, squishing my toes in the sand.


HERE'S lunch! Not sure how I got this one so out of order. Anyway, there were some little cafes/bakeries in the village, so we just picked one and ate there. This one was kind of on the organic side. I had a grilled chicken Caesar salad - and a bottle of "good for you" cola. I forget the name brand. Anyway, it definitely didn't taste like Coke, but it was so much fun to drink because a., I still stay away from carbonation as a general rule, so it was a treat and 2., it was in a glass bottle! MEMORIES. :) We found another cafe later and got a snack - I, of course, had iced coffee. :)

I think we'll probably go back again - it was a very fun place. And our trip home was 100% different than our trip there. (Again - how do you just reverse your destination in Mapquest and go home by a completely different route?????) We didn't really get to sit and ponder the God-things of life, but we did have a great day!

Mama's Birthday

I'm behind...what can I say?!?

Here are my pictures from when Mom and I celebrated her birthday. I'll stay in her good graces and not tell you her age. :)

What do you buy the Mom that has everything? A wreath for fall, I guess.

After she opened her present at my house, I took her to the Gaither store/cafe for lunch and shopping. We both love to go there. And I loved an afternoon off work! :)


Here I am with a most yummy chicken quesadilla. I have a picture of Mom with her lunch, but she was being silly and would probably appreciate NOT having it shared with the world.

Mom rolled her eyes because I made the lady retake this shot. But in the first one, she looked like a total dork and I looked like a total cow. We couldn't have that immortalized in the scrapbook. But while I fussed about it, Mom proceeded to tell the lady how I'd made her take over 40 pictures before I found the acceptable one for my Christmas card last year. Sigh.

Make-At-Home Frappes

Did you think I forgot about food? I didn't. It's just that since I've been sick so much in the past couple of weeks, the only thing that has sounded good has been ice cream. I've been through a LOT of ice cream. No cooking = no pictures. But I did make a few of these, so I thought I'd make this the official second recipe. :) ** Beverly, if you're reading, Dad did pass along the message to me that you wanted to know about the peanut butter fudge. I promise that one will appear soon! **

I l-o-v-e coffee drinks. The floofier the better, in my opinion. Two problems: too expensive and too fattening. I used to purchase 2-3 of these a week from any given coffee shop. I now get about one or two a month from a real coffee shop and instead make my own version at home (almost every day, but who's counting?). This way I can monitor the sugar and fat that goes into it, and I can save about ten bucks a week! No, these are not as good as what you get at the coffee shop, but they are pretty yummy, and I'm all about saving a buck, so that makes it worth it for me! You can switch up the flavoring however you like and make as much or as little as you want. If you want to add a little extra richness (and a few calories) - you could add a scoop of vanilla ice cream to the mix before you blend.

The Recipe:

7 ice cubes
1 1/2 cups milk
1 teaspoon instant coffee
1 1/2 Tablespoons caramel flavoring
whipped topping
caramel sundae topping

Combine ice cubes, milk, instant coffee, and caramel flavoring in blender and blend until smooth. Pour into glass and top with whipped topping and caramel sundae topping.

Here's the visual version...

Yes, I'm still using ice cubes in little trays. I use 7 cubes, but if you are using smaller cubes from an ice maker or if you use crushed ice, you can play around with the amount. It should probably fill your blender somewhere between the 1 cup mark and the 1 1/2 cup mark. I also don't really measure the milk. The ice and milk together come out around the 2 cup mark on the blender's measuring marks. I use decaf instant coffee, because I don't usually drink this until it's way too close to bed to be messing around with additional caffeine. The flavoring can be found in the coffee aisle and if you don't like caramel, you can find other flavors.


I put the instant coffee in last so it doesn't get all stuck in the bottom of the blender. Play around with the amounts of milk and ice until you get it just right for you.


Hold the lid on tight - you do NOT want to be cleaning this up from all over creation! :) I use the "ice crush" option on my blender and it makes short work of this.

Here it is pre-doctoring up with the whipped cream and caramel topping.

Mmmmmm. Perfect. And so much cheaper than a coffee shop.

Bits for Sunday, September 21, 2008

Well, I wish I had something pivotal for you today. I even wish I had some of last week’s sarcasm, for that matter. Instead I have a true potpourri of nothing.

I write to you from my perch on the coffee table. Wasn’t I taught to sit on chairs and not on tables, you ask? Why yes, I was. Unfortunately, my desk chair broke yesterday. AGAIN. Remember a year or so ago when I was writing away on the little wooden folding chair? It just collapsed into about five pieces underneath me? It happened again yesterday. I’d replaced the wooden disaster with a little white office chair from the mission. And yesterday I heard a thud…and then the seat began to teeter…and when I stood up, the whole seat fell onto the floor. You know – I’m starting to get a complex! But complex or no, until I get a new chair, I’m pulling up the coffee table and HOPING it holds.

Last Friday (as in a week ago), I came down with fluish symptoms. I cancelled all my weekend plans, ate a lot of chicken noodle soup, and thought I was all better. WRONG!! Thursday I developed the “can’t breathe” beginnings of a cold. Friday was horrible. Aching, chilling, sweating, NOT GOOD. I couldn’t miss work – my single busiest day of the year – so I went and sat in the dark in my office, eating lots of Breezers and praying my way through the rosters I had to complete. And at 3:30, I did the Bekah-unthinkable. I asked to go home. GASP.

After swinging by WalGreens for cold meds and more Breezers, I came home, put on mismatched scrubbies, and sacked out in the fat chair. One of my friends stopped by with something I’d not seen before, but it proved to be one of the best inventions I’ve found lately – Puffs with Vicks. Did you know about those? I’d complained because the tissues I had at home were sub-par. I rarely purchase a box that is not Puffs Plus with Aloe, but the last time I made a purchase, I was cheap. It did not pay to get a cold with cheap tissues. They don’t hold up in the face (ha!) of severe colds. But these not only had staying power – they had healing power. My nose is SO much better today.

I took a break from HGTV to read for a bit. Found this quote that really hit me, and I figure maybe someone else could stand to hear it too. Author Judith Pella said this: “Even side journeys can be important instruments of growth. All the detours I’ve taken have only made my life that much richer with life experiences.” I think it’s a good reminder, given that I have a tendency to look at any deviation from “the plan” as a moment of failure. But then again – is “the plan” mine or God’s?

And finally, in my night of nothingness – I have this to share with you. Two years ago (almost exactly) – I did a 30 day concentration on 1 Corinthians 13. I pulled it back out over the weekend just to see what I’d learned (and learned that I needed to relearn a lot of it). This part struck me, so I share them with you in case it can bring a moment of “hmmm” to your week.

I thought of the father I’d spoken to earlier that day that thanked me profusely before hanging up the phone. Over and over he told me that I’d been so helpful and he so appreciated my time. He understood so much better after talking to me. I could have answered him in my sleep. I’m on auto-pilot when it comes to questions like that. But then I stopped to think about things in life that I know little about. Hadn’t my former roommate come over just the night before to assemble a file cabinet for me because tools and I are not friends? To her it was just a couple hours out of her life to be paid for with a plate of chocolate chip cookies warm out of the oven. To me it was a pile of wood I no longer had to stare at in the corner of my office. A frustration of my limitations no longer in front of me. A stack of file folders that could finally move off my guest room futon and into a permanent home.

I’ll try to get well this week. To not break any more chairs. To have something deep and meaningful for you next week!

Twenty Years

Today is my nephew's twentieth birthday. All day I tried to think of what to say that would be appropriate...but I don't think I've ever said it better than this that I wrote when he was sixteen...before I started blogging. So today I'll just change the age and add it here. Lori...I'm sending you a big hug. Wish I were there to deliver it in person.

Twenty years ago yesterday, I became an aunt for the first time. I was ten. Ten years old, with a long list of plans for my time with this baby my sister was about to give birth to. I had a bag packed and by the front door ready to go to the hospital when “the call” came. My bag probably had more junk in it than my sister’s bag did. I always was a packrat.

Mom woke me up at some horribly early hour and I didn’t even brush my hair…I just threw on a pink and white shirt and a denim skirt and grabbed the keep-me-entertained-for-a-trip-around-the-world bag on my way out the door. And off to the hospital we went. I sat in the waiting room with the others and continued my mental list making. I’d get to babysit and get to play junior mom. This would be like having the little brother or sister I’d always wanted but never had.

But even the best laid plans don’t always happen the way we dream them. They didn’t that day. There were no shouts of “It’s a girl!” or “It’s a boy!” There was just a very sad doctor’s face. How do you even tell a man who just left his wife and unborn child in your safe care that you took care of her, but about the baby…there was just nothing you could do? But he had to somehow figure out how to say that to my brother-in-law, and to the rest of the very shocked family members gathered around. How does a husband go explain to his wife that yes, when she went under the anesthetic…yes the baby was fine, but now…there won’t be a baby to take home and dress up and play with? How does a wife go to sleep knowing her baby is okay and wake up to find out her baby has died? And she never even got to meet him?

How does a ten year old grasp a sentence like “We lost the baby”? I was ready to pack up my bag and go find him. It was time to rethink all those plans I’d been making…but I couldn’t make enough sense of the situation to do that. That whole week was full of trying to make sense of situations that just didn’t. How do I explain to my friends at school that the baby came…but there is no baby? How do I sit through a funeral and listen to people sing about being near to the heart of God when I want that baby to be here…near to my heart?

Well, somehow I did it. Somehow we all did it…just like all of us do all the hard things that we have to do when they happen. I’m not ten anymore. I understand that babies die…children die…adults die…and not always at the “right” time. That there really never is a “right” time to die in the eyes of those who are left to sort out the questions and the emotions. But even at 30, I don’t understand why it had to be him. Why right now I can’t pop online and have both a nephew and a niece on my instant messenger list. Why I couldn’t make two trips to Kansas for eighth-grade graduations and then high school graduations. Why I didn’t have to learn about football and sports cars and guitars besides makeup and volleyball and lists of cute boys.

Kirk…I miss you. If I’d had it my way, you’d be here. I might be lecturing you about a speeding ticket or hinting to you to buy roses for your girlfriend because she’d like that. I might be trying to convince you to come to college where I work so I could see you more. I’d have saved a place for you in the groomsman line for when I get married. But I can’t do any of those things. Well…except miss you. Which I do. I can’t believe you’d be twenty. Way to make me feel old, Kiddo. So I know that you’re in Heaven and I know that you’d be nuts to rather be here than there…so I won’t wish you back too often. But I just hope that you can know that you are still loved. Always loved. I only got to hold you one time…and I know that at twenty it wouldn’t even be cool to, you know, do the whole hugging thing…but someday I hope I get to hold you one more time and tell you things that I should have told you that day, but I was only ten and it was early in the morning and I kind of didn’t know I’d regret that later, so I just stood there instead of saying anything. So I’m saying them now. On your birthday, I just want to say thanks for making me an aunt…and thanks for teaching me that it’s okay to not understand and to ask questions. I’m waiting for the day when I can see you again.

-- Aunt Bekah

Water Cooler Talk

I am feeling better - for the most part. While I don't feel like all this is turning into a cold, I have developed some strange throat issue that leaves me sounding like Roz from Monsters Inc. It's attractive.

Tis the season for new TV shows - and I'm going to try VERY hard to not add any new ones to my list this year. I don't want to become a complete couch potato, especially since I'm trying to work hard at the research for my Bible study.

But the Biggest Loser started tonight and I am definitely going to watch that. Last season was the first one I'd watched, and I found it pretty interesting - and inspiring.

Anyone else watching Biggest Loser this round?

Bits for Sunday, September 14, 2008

I almost didn't post this one this week because I truly don't want it to offend anyone. Normally I don't even remotely joke about things like this, but hopefully you'll take it in the spirit in which I wrote it...

I’m not sure what things are like where you work, but in my office, we hear a lot about appeals. Exceptions to the normal boundaries of our rules. I will admit to you that this exposure to appeals has greatly affected the way I interact with businesses when I might be inclined to appeal one of their rules.

I remember the first time I was ever late with a credit card payment. You must understand that I am ridiculously organized about things like paying bills, because my parents raised me well to pay in full and pay on time. Period. End of discussion. This unfortunate late payment occurred during the worst Thanksgiving of my life (I’m sure I wrote about it back in the day) and it was literally the last straw of that weekend. In shuffling the papers on my desk, I found that unpaid bill staring at me…and I cried all the way to the store, where I paid it…and I cried some more the next month when I received the new bill with the late fee attached. I thought about calling the company to appeal…it was the first (and as far as I was concerned, also the last) time I’d ever been late and surely there would be some grace for just such a thing. But I didn’t call. Because the truth was…I didn’t pay my bill on time. Perhaps a hefty late fee would be just the consequence I needed to not let it happen again.

This morning in church, my Dad preached about the Ten Commandments – which, he pointed out – are not the Ten Suggestions. Makes me wonder about the appeal-happy people of the world. I wonder if, on Judgment Day, they’ll arrive at the Pearly Gates with a neatly typed (single-spaced) appeal letter outlining the reasons they didn’t precisely follow the Ten Commandments as stated. For example:

Dear God:

I understand I am about to be held accountable for my actions over the past…lifetime…and I wanted write this letter to ask for some exceptions to be made based on extenuating circumstances.

1. I do understand I was not to have any other god besides You, and really, if You look at it technically, I followed this one. I know that it looks like work came first because I stayed there for twelve hours a day (fourteen in busy season…just so I’m not lying), but You know…I was working as unto You! If I’m not mistaken, that is Scriptural. I also believe the Bible says that we’re to submit to authority, and my boss is the authority! He’s the one that asked for all the extra hours. I know I got a little emotionally attached to it, but I just wanted to make this explanation, so it didn’t look to You like I was really doing that on purpose with the intent to put You second in my life.


2. About the Sabbath. Scripture says to “remember” it – and I sure did. Many weeks I remembered it from the office, but I did remember it, and that was part of the command. And even though I was at work and not at church, I was resting. I could have been up on the roof repairing those shingles like my neighbor did sometimes (just thought I’d mention that in case You didn’t see it) but I was very much resting in the chair behind the desk, typing very slowly so as not to aggravate my carpal tunnel.


3. I never stole anything that created an alarm to sound when exiting a store’s premises, so I should be covered there. The long distance phone calls I made from work were really on an emergency basis, because they normally had to do with babysitting arrangements or dinner reservations, both of which, had I not done, would have led my spouse to kill me – which would be breaking commandment number six. I was really just trying to avoid that.


4. I definitely haven’t given any false testimony against my neighbor. Every blessed word I ever said about that cheating snake was absolutely true. I just wanted to warn others so that they weren’t dragged down by her conniving ways. Really, if You think about it, I was doing a public service.


5. And lastly, I would also like to point out that any thoughts that could be considered covetous were strictly the result of undue temptation sent my way by Satan – which really makes me kind of like Job. So those things were really not my fault and I think I should be given some leeway in those areas, especially since most of the time I kept them to thoughts only and never actually acted on any of them.

Thank You very much for Your consideration of these issues and I look forward to Your speedy (and in total agreement with me) reply.

Love,

Me

Okay so maybe it’s a bit exaggerated. But think about it. God does have grace and compassion, yes. But the buck does stop. And no amount of appealing is going to help when that happens.

I'm Sick

I hate being sick. Largely because it annoys me when my carefully crafted plans have to take a back seat to my unplanned illness. And then on a smaller scale...because it's no fun to be sick when you have to fend for yourself. I should throw in a disclaimer that two people did offer to come over. One was my Mom, and I know she has long looked forward to this day at home, so I did not want to interrupt her. The other would have had to drive an hour and a half to get here and I'm not THAT sick. Not with gas prices where they are currently located.

I could feel it coming on yesterday. The aching all over, the scratchy throat - the off and on fever - the thought that hibernation would just be the greatest.

So, ditching my plans to exercise and scrap last night, I came home, made chicken noodle soup (from scratch, thankyouverymuch), changed into my scrubbies, and curled up on the love seat. Two episodes of Friends, two episodes of Andy Griffith, two episodes of Cosby, half of Pretty Woman, and two episodes of Say Yes to the Dress later, I gave up and went to bed. I didn't journal, I didn't wish the cats a lovely evening. I didn't even care.

Today I was supposed to go to the zoo with friends. Instead I've been curled up on the couch reading a recipe book, channel surfing, and eating more chicken noodle soup (and a grilled cheese).

I'll have to exit the house at some point today - the gas tank in the car is on empty and there is church in the morning. Dad is preaching, so missing the service is not an option. :)

Hopefully by then I'll feel better anyway; missing work next week is also not an option.

Growing Up in a Day

I'll admit - I'm one of those who still does a lot of reflecting on this day. 9/11 did a little bit of something different to everyone - and for me it involved growing up more quickly in that one day than any big block of time around it.

Of course everyone has the "I remember where I was when I heard..." story about this day.

I'll admit to you (with a decent amount of humiliation) that I did not even know we had twin towers in New York. I certainly didn't know they were called The World Trade Center. And, not being a watcher of news, I had no clue that anything was happening that day. I was at work, and back in those days, our division (made up of multiple offices) had monthly division meetings. September 11th was a meeting day. I remember filing into the conference room that overlooks the gym and hearing this rumbling in conversation around me, but I had no idea what anyone was talking about. I remember someone from the Admissions Office coming into the meeting and telling us that the second plane had hit - but I was still clueless.

Later that morning, I went with one of my friends to her doctor's appointment. I was supposed to be going as moral support, but I'm afraid I was too glued to the TV in the waiting room to be of much comforting service. I just sat for however many minutes she was in the office...watching in disbelief.

That afternoon, I had a dentist appointment, and I sat in the chair, letting the ladies rip my mouth apart. For the first time, I didn't even notice. I was completely engrossed in the TV coverage. I was in the dentist's chair when the news came that gas had gone up to - well - pretty much what we pay every day, now! THAT was when I started to really get scared.

Of all the lousy times to pick...my parents had gone on vacation and were in Michigan at the time. My ex-boyfriend (who was still a good friend) was gone for work, and the longer the day went on, the more I wished that one of the two would come home. I did not like feeling alone.

Back in those days, I was a consultant for a rubber stamp company, and I already had a show booked for that night. I remember calling the hostess to see if she wanted to go on, and she said she thought it would be okay. I remember calling Mom to see if she thought it would be safe to go. She said probably.

So I went. I pulled myself away from the TV long enough to go about life and try to experience some normalcy. On the way home from the show that night, I remember stopping at an unfamiliar gas station to pay the $4 a gallon to try to cushion the tank a bit. I remember glancing all around as I pumped the gas, wondering if the next attack was going to hit Indiana. Crazy - but true.

And that was the day I grew up pretty quickly. That was the day I realized the world could completely fall apart and my parents might not be there. And there might not be a man in the picture to rush to the rescue. And yet somehow I'd have to make it work. I'd have to just pick up and keep going.

What I experienced is not even comparable to what those directly involved experienced. I've been watching some of the History channel documentaries this evening - and I just can't imagine being some of these people and trying to pick up and go after being right there in all of it. No matter how much I watch...I can't grasp it.

Bits for Sunday, September 7, 2008

If you were to visit my home, you’d find that my TV is usually parked on one of two channels – HGTV or the Food Network. If I could get a TV package that allowed for only ten channels, I’d be perfectly content – as long as those two were at the top of that list. This would explain why I’m always dreaming up new décor…and why I spend so much time in the kitchen.

I absolutely love to cook. It may be one of the smallest rooms in my house, but my kitchen is the place that gets a ton of attention from me. Mom says I’m far too ambitious to begin cooking projects very late in the evening…but it’s what I love to do. It’s the perfect wind-down project before bed.

Last week I told you that I used to think I wanted to teach and then I veered far from that plan. But if I’d actually gone in that direction, and if it were still a topic that got very much attention in schools, I think teaching Home Economics (or whatever politically correct term those classes are now named) would have been my calling.

I took pretty much all those classes when I was in high school – mostly to avoid taking health. (That shouldn’t shock anyone.) We had some sort of exchange plan that allowed us to take one semester of health or four semesters of home ec. I took the long way around, but I loved every minute of it. I learned to pack brown sugar down in a measuring cup until I’d probably doubled the amount that was supposed to be in it. I learned the water displacement method for measuring shortening (thank goodness Crisco invented shortening sticks after that, because I hated all methods of measuring shortening). I learned the proper way to set a table, and so many more things.

When I was in college, I began to realize that this cooking thing was really fun. I think three years of dining hall food, no matter how good it was, finally took its toll, and I became very interested in learning to make my own cuisine. I subscribed to my first cooking magazine and received my first cooking utensils – which I still have and use.

And now, all grown up, I cook all the time. I’ve heard a lot of people say that if they didn’t “have” to cook, they wouldn’t. But for me, cooking is what makes this feel more like home. There’s nothing wrong with a bowl of cereal for dinner or a trusty cup of Ramen on the go…but there’s also nothing like a real meal on a real plate at a normal meal time. (And an ever-ready stock of cookies or brownies stashed away somewhere, of course!) Today I sat in church listening to my stomach growl, knowing that waiting at home in the slow cooker was a ham…and that a freshly assembled pan of Paula Deen’s macaroni and cheese waited to be baked, and just to honor the teaching of the Home Ec gang, there would even be a serving of peas to complete the meal.

Am I a perfect cook? Absolutely not. Angela could tell you about the angel food cake disaster (I’ve not made another one since). There was the night when I learned that chicken still on the bone takes much longer to cook than boneless. The brownies that my dad renamed “burnies.” And I’m sure there are other things I’ve blocked out entirely. But for all the mistakes, I’ve turned out to be a pretty decent cook.

And I love to share the world of food, because I agree with the fine folks on Food Network – there’s something very personal and comforting about food. (And not just the overindulgence of it.)

One of my goals for this decade was to put together a collection of my favorite and best recipes…and not just the list of ingredients and the instructions. The tips that go with them…the stories of why I love those foods and the memories they have already created for me.

So I’ve decided to share some of my favorites here so you can try them too if you’re so inclined. Below, you'll find the very first one – my favorite pancake recipe. I even added pictures in case you’re a visual learner. I’ll post new recipes from time to time and if you’re looking for something new to add to your repertoire – I invite you to check them out and even better…try them!

Ultimate Melt-In-Your-Mouth Pancakes

** I've decided that tomorrow when I write the official "weekly bits" - I'm going to write about my love of cooking. And then from time to time, I'll post some of my favorite things to make - just in case you're looking for something new. So you can check back tomorrow for the official explanation of this project, but for now, here's recipe #1. **


I think it has been well established that I am not a fan of mornings. Therefore, my work day breakfasts are usually peanut butter and jelly toast...sometimes carted to work on a paper plate if I run out of time to eat at home. But Saturdays...those lovely leisurely Saturdays...I enjoy nothing better than sleeping in until my eyes just pop open...and then sauntering into the kitchen to whip up a batch of pancakes. It's one of my cooking traditions that I hope to continue after I'm married, unless I marry someone with an aversion to pancakes. I don't get to do this every weekend, because sometimes my Saturdays fill up and turn into breakfast-on-toast-on-the-go days too, but I dearly love the lazy weekends when I have the time to make these.

For many years, I tried to make pancakes from the boxes of pancake mix. But they always tasted odd to me. Perhaps they tasted like they were from a box of pancake mix. So I determined to find a good actual recipe for pancakes that was both easy and tasty. I stumbled upon this one in a church cookbook that was given to me several years ago as a birthday gift. (By the way - I love church cookbooks. They are written proof of why church potlucks are still the best thing in culinary life.)

The Recipe:

2 cups Bisquick
1 cup milk
1 Tablespoon sugar
2 Tablespoons lemon juice
2 teaspoons baking powder
2 eggs

Stir all ingredients until blended. Cook on hot griddle until edges are dry. Turn and cook until golden.

And now...for you visual learners.

I prefer the generic versions of pretty much everything:


Mom taught me to keep my Bisquick in the freezer between uses to keep it from being overrun by ants or other bugs. I just store it in a gallon size Ziploc bag. Sometimes, though, it gets lumpy, so before I add any of the other ingredients, I press the lumps out with a spoon. No one wants to bite into a lump of Bisquick.


After all the ingredients are added, it should look like this - kind of runny:

Rachael Ray has her garbage bowl...I have my paper towel trick. I measure all my dry ingredients over a paper towel, so if they spill over, cleanup is easy. I also put my egg shells on the paper towel. When I'm totally done assembling, I just gather up the paper towel, toss it, and the kitchen is halfway cleaned.

The full recipe, as it is listed above, probably makes about a dozen pancakes. Because I only eat about three at a time, I cut the recipe in half (which works out very nicely - you don't need half an egg or anything impossible like that) and then I use half the batter on Saturday and half on Sunday. The batter doesn't keep longer than a day, but it will be okay just overnight in the refrigerator. I pour it into a storage container for the next day. This makes it nice on Sundays, too, because I can have a real breakfast before church, but I don't have to get up early enough to mix up a new batch of batter.

Even though I have a non-stick skillet, I still spray it with cooking spray because these do tend to really stick. I let them cook until they're super bubbly on top and the edges are dry enough to slip a spatula underneath to flip them. I cook mine on medium-high heat.


Yeah even after all this time, I'm still not a pancake flipping expert. The one at the top of the picture came apart and ended up being about half the size it was supposed to be. But it still tasted good. This recipe really does well on the perfect golden color part.

Mmmmm.....butter and syrup. The perfect ending to almost perfect pancakes. (They did taste perfect. They just didn't look perfect.)

So there you have it - my favorite pancake recipe. And these make not only a great weekend breakfast, but a great dinner, too. When I lived at home, Mom sometimes served breakfast for dinner. Pancakes, sausage, eggs...it was always a fun meal. And when I was in college, I lived on campus in an apartment the summer between my junior and senior year. My roommate, Christi, liked to make pancakes late at night and invite friends over for a pancake party. They were a lot of fun. And best of all - a pretty cheap meal!

Head and Heart Stuff

I haven't written for a long time. Okay a week. But in motor-mouth Bekahland, that might as well be a decade. And I wasn't sure...am still not sure...about writing now. But I'm doing it anyway.

Life has been busy, but not so busy that I couldn't write. School started for our students on Tuesday and work has been chugging along at a pace that goes beyond definition. I try my best to stay not just up with work...but way above it. Weeks like this make it tough - especially when I really really want to be my best and do my best for all the students, and I feel like I'm not able to meet all their expectations. Having said that, the group this year has been exceptional in the niceness category, so I appreciate that.

In all the fluffy stuff - the refrigerator finally died and I had to purchase a new one. The new one is beautiful (okay so it's plain white, very standard, absolutely no bells OR whistles...but it is STILL beautiful) and best of all - things inside are COLD! It's just a concept beyond anything I've known for the last few weeks.

Sunday night, my friend Angi invited me over to use her Cricut. (If you're not a scrapper, that's not going to mean a blessed thing to you...it's a die-cut sort of tool that I will never be able to afford but it's SO COOL.) Anyway, I made several things, some of which I can't post yet because some of you will have a spoiled surprise if I do! But I did make this for my niece...who should have it by now.

I was pretty excited.

And now to the non-fluffy. It's been a really tough week, and that has led to my posting hesitation. I don't really like to post the poor-me business because really...it's okay. But it is, after all, my blog, so I guess if I want to fess up to a rough time, then I'm certainly allowed.

This morning when I got up and headed for my daily devo book, I told God I needed something big. This followed last night's six (I think) kleenex meltdown over the prayer journal where I proceeded to tell God a variety of opinions I hold concerning some people who have disappointed me pretty significantly lately. I had to throw in a (sincere) apology to God that it took such intense hurt to bring me back to a drawn out conversation with Him. Why do I rush so quickly through my time with Him when life is good? Question of the ages, I guess.

So anyway, I opened the book and the first verse on the page said this: "Be still, my daughter." I had chills. I printed out every verse from the morning round and planted them right in front of my computer monitor to view throughout the day. Perhaps a practice I should employ more often?

I do have to stop here to tell you this which just made me giggle and helped ease the extreme tension of the day. One of my friends (whose name I won't mention in case she'd rather it be that way) sent me this as a potential alternate verse...."She drove the peg through his temple into the ground, and he died." I have to admit, it was tempting to write that one down too!

I joined a Beth Moore Bible study (via DVD...not one of the live studies...rats!) and it's about Daniel and prophecy. My dad would clean up on stuff like that. I somewhat get it, but parts of it feel about as natural as chemistry class. But one thing that did come through loud and clear was to follow Daniel's example to resolve to be strong no matter what. So as I've been hit with one "ouchie" after another this week, I've tried to remind myself to resolve to remember what I know to be true about the way God views me.

It's been kind of tough. There are some rumors that have been circulating about me in the past few weeks. I haven't really wanted to blog about this because I know some people who read might be hurt by it...but again...it's my blog. After about a year of fighting God on the issue, I made the decision to obey Him and leave the church I've been attending for a very long time. I didn't go because I was mad at anybody or disgruntled with leadership or anything of the sort. I was just simply obeying what I know God was leading me to do. I expected rumors, because situations like this tend to lend themselves to such things. I even figured out what some of them would be. But one in particular hit me from out of nowhere and it was really really hard to hear. I cried so hard because it made me question everything about who I am.

Add to that a week's worth of "fat days" - you girls get that, right? - and the complete loss of confidence over my ability to write...it's made for some tough, tough days.

So I say all of that with really no idea what I'm trying to say. I have no great concluding paragraph. This is just me and my bruised up heart hoping you were able to read this in the spirit I intended and not in some "poor Bekah" way.