Bits for Sunday, February 28

This year my Lenten fast is…unusual at best.

In years past I’ve given up pop…pop again…snacks…a meal…desserts…are you seeing a theme?

I started to feel guilty about that trend, because I don’t think the purpose of Lent is to launch a diet. Then again, I wasn’t raised to observe such fasts, so what do I know?

So this year I had no intention of even participating. On the first day of Lent (that kind of makes you want to break into song, doesn’t it?) one of my friends asked me what I’d given up…and that was the first I even realized it was the first day of Lent.

That night, as I drove to church, I was doing my usual…cranking out a duet with David Phelps.

And then it became unusual. I didn’t want to sing anymore. Not with David. Not with anybody. I didn’t want the music.

Odd.

So I turned it off and just drove in silence for a minute.

And that’s when I knew.

God was asking me to turn off the music during Lent. Drive in silence. Pray. Listen.

That isn’t a big deal on work days. My commute is short enough that one of the guys in my office said, “What do you do? Say Dear Jesus…Amen?” Well, that’s fair. It’s about that short of a drive!

But just ask my parents…I’m the girl who was asking for music to blare before the keys were even in the ignition! And things have not changed. Music is always on in my car. To drive anywhere…even to work without getting through at least a chorus of something is…well…unprecedented.

I won’t lie. I was nervous. I asked God if He was aware how many days Lent covered. He was.

And yet I knew that was what He asked of me.

I haven’t kept track of how many days have passed since the start of Lent, but let the record show, I’m still here! And while I sorely miss the music (and have, a couple of times, created my own acapella serenade), I have to say I would not trade those moments God and I have shared for all the David duets in the world.

Amazing what you can think to say in the silence. Amazing what you can hear in the silence.

I’ve had to explain this fast more than a few times…it’s understandably odd. But it’s an inexplicably wonderful nudge from the Lord. I’m so glad He did it.

Praying on the Run - Card 7

I just finished my workout for today (didn't get to run...the gym is closed) so I thought it was about time I caught up with another card.

This quote came from Tiet Parsons, who said, "I couldn't honestly say that my husband's heart was safe with me. How many times must he have wondered what he would face in the lioness's den when he got home from work?"

Prayer: Ability to create a safety net for his heart.

Until I went to college, I'd always had my own living space. My sisters were grown and out of the house by the time I have memories of living at home, and no one ever stayed at our house long term, so I was used to my own room...my own stuff...getting ready in the bathroom whenever I wanted.

And then there were roommates.

I enjoyed having roommates, because for the first time, I had someone to talk to - on a peer level. I loved the fun times. But oh my word, the drama. I had no idea girls could be that dramatic! I had several roommates throughout college, and I remember sometimes dreading what I might find when I walked in the door. And I don't like to say so out loud, but I'm sure the same thoughts came right back at me from some of them.

That's something I've been working on in these last few years. I've been growing up (can I get a finally!!!??) and praying so hard that whenever that day comes, he won't have to spend his whole ride home from work praying "Please dear God don't let her throw things at me when I walk in."

I consider it a high compliment when I hear husbands say their wives make such a warm and safe home that they can't wait to show up after work. I wonder sometimes if those wives realize what a high honor that is.

Ding-a-Ling

Today is collections day at Kelly's Korner. I wish I had mine out so I could post a picture...but right now it's packed away.

HOWEVER.

I have a story! :) After all, one of the best parts of a collection is the story of how it started, right?

If you're new here, you might not know this about me...I was a late in life surprise/blessing/accident/cancer (depending on who tells the story) for my parents. The whole cancer part is another story for another post.

The day Mom found out she was pregnant, my oldest sister was on her senior trip to Washington D.C. Dad was on the trip with her, and they had no idea the news that awaited them when they arrived home! The story goes (as I'm told...I hadn't so much developed ears to hear it myself) that when Lori heard I was on the way, she ran around the house yelling and ringing the souvenir bell she'd gotten on the trip.

And thus my bell collection began.

Throughout my childhood, I collected bells from everywhere. People brought me bells from their vacations...I received them for gifts at Christmas and my birthday...all kinds of bells!

When I moved out of Mom and Dad's house, I didn't have a way to display the collection, so they've been packed away in the attic for the last ten or so years. But one of these days...I'll bring them back out and maybe even add to the collection!

I Have No Words

It's true. I've been sitting on this couch all night...watching the Olympics...chatting with friends...not putting away the dishes...and I have no words. No wisdom for you today. No wit.

Maybe tomorrow!

Such a Sap...

Phats...if you're reading...this is for you. :)

I told you earlier that I l-o-v-e the Olympics. I'm so glad these past few days haven't been busy, because I've loved the chance to have the games on every evening while I do my chores.

I'm a complete sap for the stories of the games. This is not new. This began the year Dan Jansen won his gold medal. I remember it well. Phats likes to pick on me for that, but I wanted to explain why (hopefully briefly).

Dan won his gold medal in 1994. It's likely you know that story and why it was so beautiful after the race of years before. I hadn't heard of Dan before 1994. I'm not even sure I'd watched any of the winter Olympics before 1994. But the night he won gold, I watched it from this very living room where I sit now as I write this. Back then, my grandmother lived here. I stayed with her often on the weekends.

It was a win-win situation for us. It gave her some company (my grandpa died a few years before), and it got me out of the house.

Why would I want to be out of the house?

My Dad was battling clinical depression. I'm not telling you something he wouldn't...so don't worry. For a teenager to watch, it was awful. My Dad went from busy busy busy every minute of every day to sitting in a chair (if he got out of bed at all) every minute of every day. He just sat and stared. No reading. No singing. No going to church. No meal other than hamburgers. I prayed against school cancellations and offered to babysit anyone in a tri-state area for free...if it meant I could leave the house. No one understood how I felt...because I didn't know any other 16 year olds who had parents battling clinical depression.

** Clarification ** I realize now...lo these many hours after posting...that not further explaining the origin of my dad's depression could lead to some interesting and perhaps VERY WRONG conclusions. Given that I don't want to discredit his good name, here's the story on that. He had been injured and was taking some medication for the injury. The particular combination of medication did not like him, apparently, and therefore the depression emerged. Okay....back to story **

So that night, when I sat in Grandma's living room and watched the replay of Dan's story of deep hurt and disappointment...and then I watched him skate to gold, I cried. (There's a shocker.) I cried because I'm a sap for great stories....but I cried for more than that. I cried because on the TV screen was a guy who gave me hope. Hope that after the worst...could come the best. At that point, for my life, I saw literally no hope. And even though my story's details didn't compare in any way with Dan's, the underlying themes of tragedy, unfairness, and disappointment resonated with me.

I even wrote to Dan and thanked him for the hope his story gave me. Got a postcard back. :) (That was for you, too, Phats.)

My circumstances today, praise the Lord, are not as dire. But I'm still a sap. A sap for the good stories. And there have been some good ones this time!

From-Scratch Brownies

Remember the Weight Watchers brownie recipe? This ain't it. In fact, this is a great lesson in opposites. Not one thing in here that's good for you...but man is it good. :)

I found this recipe many years ago when I was still struggling to learn to cook. I love brownies (hello!) but always feel guilty when I make them from a box. I know, I know. A normal person would feel NO guilt at all. Did I ever claim to be normal? But the thing I love about this recipe is that it is seriously just as easy as a box mix...and yet there's the joy of proclaiming it's made from scratch!

I'm taking these to the next family night dinner at church, so I thought I'd inspire myself to make them by posting the recipe.

ENJOY!

The Recipe

2 cups sugar
1 3/4 cups flour
1/2 cup cocoa
1 teaspoon salt
5 eggs
1 cup vegetable oil
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 cup semisweet chocolate chips

Directions:
In a mixing bowl, combine everything but the chocolate chips; beat until smooth. Pour into a greased 9X13 pan. Sprinkle with chocolate chips. Bake at 350 for 30 minutes or until a toothpick inserted near the center comes out clean. Cool in pan on a wire rack.


As usual...I use real vanilla, not imitation. And as you can see in this picture, I happened to use milk chocolate chips this particular time. I've used both - either one will work.


I start by putting in all the dry ingredients and stirring them with a spoon.

Then I add the eggs, oil, and vanilla. Please make sure at this point to NOT pay attention to how bad this is for you!

Stir it all up...the consistency will be the same as a regular brownie mix. One kind of odd thing about it is that it kind of slides around in a big lump...also slides very easily into the baking dish. Probably from all the eggs and oil!

Sprinkle the chocolate chips on top. I've also been known to forget that they're supposed to go on top and I put them in the batter itself. No harm done!

Happiness in a 9x13. They are thick, rich, and definitely need a tall glass of milk!

Ashes

In case I haven't mentioned it lately, loving the study of Do You Think I'm Beautiful? by Angela Thomas. Marie and I are studying it together. It's a six week study that we started in October. :) Okay so we're taking the slow route through it.

BUT LET THE RECORD SHOW...

We have arrived at the final week's study. I have loved this book because I've been forced to look at the good, the bad, and the uncomfortable about my life. And I'm encouraged. Always good to come away encouraged.

Tonight this part struck me in a profound way. As I made my way through the workbook, I read these words: "Think about being free from the sack of ashes that has come to you through the difficulties of life. Because you are dancing in the arms of God, you don't have to haul that thing around anymore. He wants to make a trade. He'd like to take away your ashes and see you wearing a crown of beauty."

Having just gone through an exercise in the workbook that led me to write out the contents of my ash heap, I was very aware of just how big that ash heap is for me. I'm a literal person, so to fully comprehend what Angela wanted me to consider, I imagined what it would be like to literally carry around a jar of ashes that represented all those things. I imagined trying to get ready for work while holding a jar of ashes. Seemed it could be a hair-straightening, mascara-applying nightmare. Driving with the ashes? Eating? Running? Doing tae-bo?

I wouldn't do it. If I had to carry them around, I'd do whatever it took to be rid of them so I could live freely.

So why don't I work that hard to be rid of the ash heap of my heart?

Bits for Sunday, February 21

I scanned through things I’ve written over the years and couldn’t find that I’d addressed this topic specifically, so I’m going ahead with it today. If I have already told you this, I guess you get a week off from reading.

Memorizing Bible verses is not the easiest thing for me. We’re supposed to be doing that as part of our Sunday School unit right now and I’m just NOT doing a great job with it. I tried…at first. I’d write the verses on index cards and put them in my day planner so I could see them throughout the day. But I quickly learned that seeing and learning are two very different things.

Here’s the thing. I know exactly what to do to fix this problem. It’s all about hearing the verses for me. I can rattle off a number of verses I learned from watching Mark Lowry comedy videos in high school. When he got to the serious part of every video, he would deliver verse after verse and I can recite them all – complete with his inflections. I even remember verses I learned from listening to a cassette (gasp!) recording of a college ministry team that traveled to our church years ago.

And of course…music! I have learned so many verses from songs. In fact, I’ve declared that if I ever have kids, that’s what they can spend their time listening to. Verse music. At least it will teach them something productive when it gets stuck in their head. (Years of a career in babysitting soured me toward traditional kids’ music and shows.)

So yes, I know the answer to my memorization problems is to get an audio Bible. But that’s not what I’m writing about.

When I exercise out and away from people (and therefore don’t have to worry about them thinking I’m crazy…) I read verses aloud from index cards. And after hearing them out loud over and over, I begin to memorize them. And in order to make sure I don’t forget what I’m learning, I do alphabet cards.

It’s a technique Mom taught me when I was very young. She had a set of verses written in marker on pieces of construction paper, and she had one verse for each letter of the alphabet. What a great way to work on alphabet memorization (I was very young, remember?) and Scripture memory at the same time!

So now I have my own set of verses…ones that I picked out to pray over Mr. Missing…and I love it when I encounter one of those verses along the way of life. I love seeing it used for another purpose while secretly knowing it’s one of “my verses.”

Recently I compiled a second list, and I’m using them in a project for a gift for a couple of people. But as I looked through the verses today, I thought they’d make a great second set of cards for me…because I could use some of these committed to memory.

So I share this with you…because if you’re like me in not being so great at memorization…this might just be something that can help you!

All Done! (With Round One, Anyway)

Yesterday my day was comprised of:


PLUS:



AND:

And what does it all mean???

My book is done.


After one final vacation day...spent in jammies and a pink bathrobe, poring over a Bible while pouring coffee in me...the book is done.

I can't edit it anymore. I will go crazy if I try. I have read it countless times...double, triple, quadruple (and on and on) checked it for accuracy...and now it is out of my hands.

Literally.

It is on its way to the publisher...and I await the next step.

I am so excited...I cannot even tell you!

I simply have to say: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!

Praying Ahead

I love Kelly's "Show us your life" topic today. All about ministries. I haven't read through all the links on the list yet, but...wow. It's quite a list of women who have been through the good, the bad, the tough, and the wonderful...and they're all sharing from their hearts about what means the most to them. Pretty amazing.

My "ministries" are as random as my blog subjects. Maybe I have A.D.D. for ministries?

For me, sometimes ministry means....opening my home to share what I have with others.

Sometimes ministry means surprising someone with a little care package.

Sometimes it means not saying much, but passing along something that lifted my day.

Sometimes ministry involves one of my big passions...crafting.

Sometimes it involves giving away food.

Sometimes it means risking vulnerability.

Sometimes I get to share a great recipe.

Sometimes ministry is being there...and being blessed in the process.

And sometimes ministry is about the future.

If you've read the blog for a while, you know about the "praying on the run" posts. Another one is coming soon, by the way.

As part of my exercise options, I occasionally walk/run on the gym track. I have to go 20 laps to get 2 miles in, so I created the index card project to both count the laps and spend time in prayer.

The "praying on the run" cards guide me through prayers for Mr. Missing...the husband I don't know...haven't met...but pray for anyway. Sometimes it seems like a pointless task, and other times it feels so good to actually do something now for an unknown later.

Here are the posts I've done so far...and I added a list of them over to the side under the recipe section!

Card 1

Card 2

Card 3

Card 4

Card 5

Card 6

Olympic Week

I keep thinking this is Friday...so I guess my starting line of "one week ago tonight I watched the Olympic opening ceremonies" won't work so well. :)

Well...for the last week I've been watching the Olympics. I love them. I told someone on the phone today that these are the sports I understand. Football? Lost. Basketball? Kind of lost. But these sports? I get them. Person goes down hill. Person reaching the bottom the fastest wins. I get that. Group of people skate around in a circle. Person who gets around the circle first wins. I get that. Not to mention all the events are done in no time at all. Perfect for my attention span. :)

While I've not planted myself in front of the TV for hours at a time this week, I have watched much of the festivities.

Loved watching Lindsey Vonn win her gold...loved watching Shaun White do his AMAZING thing and win...loved watching speed skating...okay so I've loved a lot of it!

I love the stories most of all. The "good true Olympic spirit" stories that suck me in and make me cry over people I hadn't heard of until five minutes ago.

So that's Olympics in Bekahland. I'd keep writing but that Evan guy is about to skate, so I must go watch....

Chocolate Covered Lent

What are you giving up for Lent?

I never participated in Lent growing up. It wasn't something my church pushed, and my parents didn't do it...but I'm learning it's a big thing in my age group now.

For a few years, I gave up pop, suffered through the headaches, enjoyed the subsequent weight loss, and drank a 2 liter of Coke on Easter. :) One year I gave up all but 2 desserts a week. That nearly killed not only me, but all those around me as well. Sorry, people.

As time went by, though, I realized that I was giving up things to diet...not for any spiritual purpose. And I was giving things up because those around me were doing it. Oh the caving to peer pressure.

This year, a few of my friends gave up time sorts of things...TV or Facebook. And today when my friend Kari asked what I was giving up, my answer was nothing. No need to. Didn't feel convicted about it. No plans to participate.

Tonight I was in the car, just singing along like normal, when I suddenly had the urge to turn off the music and pray. So I did.

And that's when I knew it.

For me, this season of Lent will still be chocolate covered, but it will be silent in the car. The music is off. The moments when I'm not talking to someone else will be spent in prayer. Easter seems so far away...how much will God say to me in this time?

I can't wait to find out!

Permission to Fail

Jody posted a blog about vulnerability in writing. I've been thinking about that since I read it yesterday morning. It scares me sometimes to think about my unknown blog readers. I try to be smart about what I post so I don't get myself in too much trouble. But at the same time, I think writers have a certain obligation to be transparent in some ways. Readers want to know they're not alone.

And so in that spirit, I bring you today's Bekahland flaw. You can judge me if you want. I know it needs work.

I've never given myself permission to fail.

Ever.

At anything.

Please don't interpret this to mean that I haven't failed. I have. Many times. I'm the girl who had to call her economics teacher father during college midterms to report she was failing economics. I'm the girl who nearly didn't graduate on time because she did not have a pass in a pass/fail elective class her final semester of college. (Ironically in history...another of Dad's specialties.) I'm the girl who can still tell you the NAME (first, middle AND last) of a student whose aid she messed up ten years ago when she first learned to process aid. Please note that information will not actually be divulged, in the interest of privacy laws, but I'm just saying it still lives on in this brain.

There are many more examples, but in order to preserve a bit of self-esteem, I'll stop there.

Today I made a mistake. Or rather, I was informed of a mistake. And people, let me tell you. Grace and mercy went flying and I actually had tears in my eyes. Not tears of embarrassment or disappointment. Tears of flat out anger. I self-lectured for several minutes on the utter ridiculousness of this situation. I was momentarily interrupted by the person who found my mistake and I explained I was in the middle of some self-discipline. She laughed and said, "Of all people, I knew I didn't need to say a word to you. You will be beating yourself up for this for days."

It's true.

I don't love it when other people mess up, but I normally extend some compassion. But I sure struggle to do so when I'm in the hot seat. Not proud of it. But it's true. Gotta learn to grant some permission to fail.

Flying High

Today I talked to a friend of mine who is about to fly for the first time since she was little. She cracked me up as she talked about all her worries and wonders...because she reminded me so much of myself about 4 years ago when I flew for the first time.

So...I am making a little care package for her:

And I'm making a list of things I wish people would have told me before I flew. Some of these I already mentioned to her today, but I'll just remind her.

1. When I stepped on my very first plane, I stopped and stared. The only planes I'd ever seen were on TV. You know...Lost. Flight Plan. Air Force One. The Wedding Singer. No one told me commercial planes came in smaller versions. I stepped onto my two-seat/aisle/one-seat plane that wasn't even tall enough for me to stand up straight in and thought You have got to be kidding me. This is what I'm trusting my life to?

2. I'd not really considered the idea of turbulence. Again...I'd seen season one of Lost, so I knew about that kind of turbulence, but I remember grabbing the arms of the seat and saying to Mom "WHAT WAS THAT?" when we hit our first turbulence. It felt like we were going over a railroad track, which wasn't too scary...except I was pretty sure they didn't keep railroad tracks at however many thousand feet.

3. Clouds are not the cotton balls they might seem from the ground. This was one of the things I told her today. Don't clouds look so pretty in the sky? Fluffy little wisps....but going through them is kind of like blasting through the lake in a speed boat. Who knew?

4. I didn't bother her with these things since she's not very big, but I also didn't realize I would have to fold up into 1/4 my normal size to fit in my seat. While I know I'm not skinny, I'm not obese, but I sure was in that seat! These hips barely squeezed in! And forget leg room!

5. I assumed descent happened like ascent. When we went up, I did the close-my-eyes-tight-and-wait-for-the-space-ship-blast-off-feeling to leave. I assumed we'd come down with equal terror. (Again, maybe too much Lost?) I didn't know we'd drop like an elevator...fly along...drop like an elevator some more...fly along...you get the idea.

6. Bring on the air. That little personal air blaster thing above the seat? My saving grace in every flight. White noise is so calming to me, so I loved the sound it made. And I was usually sweating in fear...so the cold air felt good. Love that little thing!

I have to say that my first flight - once I got past all the are you kidding me moments - was wonderful. We had THE BEST flight attendant. Hysterical guy. He said stuff like "I would recommend deciding what you want to do before you go into the bathroom so you know whether to walk in or back in - and don't change your mind once you get in there, because there's no room to turn around." A year later, I ended up on another of his flights...this time with my sister. I said, "Oh he's the best!" She said, "You remember your flight attendant?" I told her, "You just wait til he starts talking." Mmmm hmm. She was crying laughing in no time flat.

Bits for Sunday, February 14

Well, apparently I have kept at least a couple of you hanging long enough. :) So sorry. Today, the conclusion of the story of what happened in Bekahland.

Ahh....Valentine's Day. I think this is the best one I've had in a long time. No, you've not missed any big news. But somehow when Valentine's Day falls on a Sunday, the gooshy grossness of it is a bit lost.

I did not wear black. I wore red. Lots of red. (The people at my church have come to understand that I'm happiest when my outfit matches my jewelry...and my purse...and my coffee cup. OCD to the max.) So today I sported red in all those things and headed to church.

Had the fun privilege of helping out in our Godly Play (junior church) today. It started out as a photo session, since I write articles for the church newsletter and they like accompanying pictures. From there it morphed into serving as the official assistant since the scheduled one was sick. Having never even been to it before, I had to learn fast, but I had fun.

Church ran a little bit over (as in about 20 minutes...which you notice all the more when you're with kids who repeatedly ask "Where's my Mom?") which put me a little bit late coming home for....


Company!!

A few weeks ago, I had the idea to invite some of my college student friends over for lunch. I invited five, but at the last minute, two couldn't come, so this was today's crew. I have to tell you that making great friends is among the top perks of my job, and today was proof of it.

These three are such great encouragers, kind, listeners to all forms of Bekahland drama, including but not limited to hair straightener crises, and best of all - these friends are FUNNY! I've already determined to title my scrapbook page "My Funny Valentines." I do not remember the last time I laughed so hard!

But before I launch into that, let me back up.

My mother is a fantastic hostess. I truly did learn from the best. She had these amazing meals that tasted good (if we leave out the one angel food cake incident and that one little Christmas pork roast...) and everything was always done on time...simultaneously...beautifully...and the table was set, and the dishes were lovely...

...and I wanted to be just like her.

Today was not my day to exhibit that. It started when I drove down my street after my scurry home from church - two find two of the three guests sitting on my porch. Uh, the porch does not currently have furniture so they were sitting LITERALLY on the porch. Nothing says "Welcome to my home" like "Hey, have a seat on the snowy porch and I'll be right home...maybe." I bustled in the door and rather than June Cleaverly taking their coats, I said, "Oh just throw your coats right there - I have to grab food out of the oven." (My mother is already shaking her head; I am sure of it.)

I grabbed the beef stew out of the oven just as it sloshed all over the top of the white stove, which didn't really hurt anything, but it wasn't exactly a Sandra Lee lesson in presentation. I tossed the cheese potato casserole IN the oven, put a pot of water on to boil, and proceeded to give the two former porch dwellers the tour of my home. (Thank you, Kaegan and Braeya for not leaving any partially digested gifts for us to find.) As I fussed about the house some more, talking while cooking, we began to wonder where the third guest was. I dug my still-on-silent phone out of my purse to find both a text and a voicemail from her...as my doorbell rang. As one of the porch dwellers got the door for me (hostessing FAIL!!!) I yelled behind him, "Tell her yes, this is my house!"

It turns out watched pots are not the only ones that never boil. But when they do...they proceed to boil OVER. I cleaned that up while they insisted upon making the table setting a group project. (Pre-set tables cannot happen in a cat home.) I kept fussing that I could do it, but they refused to listen and busied themselves in a great table setting.

We sat down to eat, which included my trademark prayer that begs the Lord to not let my cooking kill anyone, and then we ate. And ate and ate. And told stories and laughed. And took pictures. And ate a little more. It was somewhere around that last round of eating that I said, "Why does something smell hot?" Oh it was because I'd emptied the George Foreman grill of all chicken but failed to UNPLUG it. Gives charbroiled new meaning.

After eating, we moved to the living room to laugh at scrapbook pages, watch the Olympics, tell more stories, and after a while, eat some more. (Remember the sugar cookies?? Huge hit. HUGE.)

This leads to my final hostessing failure of the day. The guys wanted some milk to go with their cookies and when I started to get up from my seat on the floor, they waved me away and said they could get it themselves. I said, "Man I'm a bad hostess." They just rolled their eyes and I said, "Well I'm pretty sure when my Mom has company, she doesn't lay down on the floor and let her guests get their own drinks!" (The very mental picture of that just cracks me up!)

All in all, they seemed to have a great time away from the land of homework, meetings, and of course, Baldwin food. I loved it that they stayed to hang out - and that they felt at home enough to go get their own drink, regardless of its reflection upon my hospitality skills.

Oh - and by the way. During a conversation with my sister tonight, I realized why the stew was so soupy. Forgot to add the tapioca to thicken it. Further proof of why I don't cook at six in the morning on a regular basis.

Sneak Peek...

What has been happening today in Bekahland, you ask??

Well...

...these two dishes appeared on the refrigerator shelf.

I'd tell you what's inside but it's a secret.

There might also have been some of this going on...

...and a few of these added to a dish (with only a couple taste-tested).

...and six of these made, to be exact...

Appearances were also made by the following:

Dustcloth

Clorox Wipes

Vacuum

Vacuum ATTACHMENTS

Swiffer

Swiffer WET JET

And whatever you do, DON'T open the closets. :)

That's been Bekahland today. Guess you'll have to check back tomorrow to see why! :)

Moving Past the Grow-A-Date

Kelly's Korner is featuring the stories and memories of Valentine's Day this week.

Um....

...a friend once gave me a little sponge "grow a date" to put in water so I wouldn't have to be alone on the big day.

And that would about the extent of my Valentine hoopla.

Probably about five years ago, though, I was teaching the ladies' Bible study at our church, and we did a unit based on Dee Brestin and Kathy Troccoli's book Falling in Love with Jesus. I loved that unit. I would love to teach it again. The whole concept of God loving me so deeply is comforting.

That year, the week of Valentine's Day, I did a special "God loves you" Valentine study for the girls, and I gave them each a half sheet of paper stamped with red and pink hearts. I encouraged them to keep it with them all day on Valentine's Day and keep track of the ways God showed His love to them - regardless of whether or not a man paid any attention to the day.

I don't know how many of them did it, but I did, and I still have it in my Bible. Twenty-two lines long, I love looking at the things God did that day...some big, some little...all affirming His love for me through those around me.

* An email from the friend who goes to lunch with me every Monday...wishing me a happy day.

* A phone call from a friend. Random. Just saying hi. Brought a big smile.

* A notice from the dentist's office that the mistake on my bill had been cleared.

* An e-card from a friend who wanted me to know my friendship helped her feel loved.

* A hug from a two year old. (Oh how much that can solve!)

* A dinner invitation from a couple...who graciously shared their special day to open their home and serve me heart shaped muffins, cookies, and other great food.

I normally make a huge deal out of Valentine's Day, because I think Christians should. It's a day of love, and what better excuse to share love with those around? This year, given some circumstances going on around me, I simply don't have it in me to throw quite the energy into it that I normally do. I am participating...just not up to full speed.

But I think once again...I'll keep track of God's love notes to me. The reminder that I am loved!

A Different Path

Today I gave a presentation-let at work. Just a tiny one. And truthfully, it wasn't my most graceful attempt at public speaking ever. Should have prepared a wee bit longer. But I really enjoyed doing it, and I appreciated the opportunity to get away from the desk for a while.

I remember writing a term paper (slight shudder) in high school...exploring my top three career hopes at that point in life. I had to interview people and do research about what would be required to attain each one.

It may not surprise you to know that Financial Aid Counselor was not on the list.

Actually I didn't even know such people existed.

My third choice was to be a secretary. I thought I would have arrived in life if I could just be a secretary. To dress up every day and sit at a desk and be a helper...would be the pinnacle. When I spent three years as a student worker in our office, I actually had the opportunity to be the secretary in the office for a whole summer when ours took time off for surgery. I loved every minute of it and truly thought after college, I'd stay in the office as the secretary. The counselor position opened, though, and I was encouraged to apply for it instead. Even though I took that route, I still love secretarial work. I don't mind taking a shift at our front desk when needed - it's fun!

My second choice was to be a nurse. There are a variety of reasons I did not pursue this career. I hate math and science. And by hate, I mean, could not successfully pass the courses. I don't do blood, brain matter, or vomit, and I'm really not great in an emergency. It really does sort of put a damper on key components of the job.

My first choice was to be a teacher. My dad was a teacher all his life. My mom worked as an aide for most of my school career. I had regular exposure to life in charge of a classroom and thought it natural to pursue it. But the older I got, the more I saw that teachers were losing control of the way they taught. I knew my personality would not work well with that sort of control.

But here's what I've learned about life in the world of financial aid: I'm a teacher. Even though today's presentation-let was not my best ever, I did hear these words after I finished talking: I learned something today. YES. Then it was a success.

I love teaching parents and students. I love being invited to speak for other offices. I even love being able to help with the training of new co-workers. I love being able to pursue that dream, even in a non-traditional way. It may not be the path I thought I'd pursue, but it's a good path anyway.

2050

Today was the longest day ever in the history of days.

As I got ready to leave work, one of my co-workers asked if I thought it might be 2050 yet. She thought maybe we'd leave work to find that our clothes were dreadfully out of style and everyone ate space food.

I thought it was a very distinct possibility.

I think for the two of us, it was because:

I didn't get my snow day. You might have figured that out from the above sentence that began with "As I got ready to leave work."

This little magnetic sign hangs on the door frame of my office, and today it parked here.

But I'm done being bitter now. I have re-shoveled what the wind blew back after yesterday's shoveling, I've had some chocolate, I've taken the tiniest of naps, and I think tomorrow I'll be ready to tackle the day.

Snow Day

On days like this, I sorely regret my decision to NOT become a teacher.

We were promised 6-12 inches of snow, combined with lots of wind, creating blizzard-like conditions, drifting, and the hope of an official snow emergency. It takes an official snow emergency to close our school.

I regret to inform...well, mostly me...that as of right now, the sidewalk is covered with about a quarter inch of snow. Earlier today we got a great start with about four inches, and I shoveled that off to gain a head start on the rest of it. I've not bothered to contend with the quarter inch.

We have some serious snowing and blowing to do in the next few hours to achieve snow emergency status.

I'm losing hope.

Colts Fun Anyway

I'm not a die hard sports fan, so I'm doing okay today...after the big loss and all...but I still had a fun party time. The same cannot be said for some of my friends (and family).

The festivities began on Friday, when we were allowed to wear Colts gear to work. Not everyone participated, and I won't lie to you - it really upset me! (Dumb, huh, since I don't even live for sports?) Anyway, I'm of the persuasion that if they're so kind as to let us dress down now and then and people don't take advantage, we might not get the privilege again!

Those who did dress festively got to be in a picture....
And at lunch time, I was invited to be part of another office's tailgate party festivities. I told them I needed to come be with "my own kind." LOL.

For the actual Super Bowl, I went to some friends' house. We all used to go to church together, so it was fun to catch up with people I don't get to see that often. This was our own musical halftime show...better than Who-ever was on TV!

This little cutie pie is growing right up on me!! Love him!

I have to say, he wasn't terribly amused about the outcome of the game.

The weekend was absolutely exhausting...busy busy busy every moment, so I took today off to recover. I went grocery shopping and the stores were PACKED. Guess everyone is taking the storm threats oh so seriously!

Bits for Sunday, February 7

Our Sunday School class has started a unit on prayer – with a workbook and everything! I actually did this study a little over ten years ago – with another group. I still have the workbook, and I’m curious to see (once this round has been completed) the similarities and differences from the answers of the old workbook. Hopefully I’ll find I’ve learned something!

This morning in our discussion, we talked about different facets of prayer, including…listening.

Gulp.

It won’t come as a great shock to you to know I’m not a great listener. FABULOUS talker. Horrible listener. I can listen when it comes to the people around me. But I struggle to listen to God because He doesn’t talk out loud. Listening to Him requires being still. And…well…I’m too wiggly to sit still and listen.

As they talked about what it meant to be still before the Lord, I thought about what I read in Streams in the Desert last night.

First I have to tell you – if you’ve never used this devotional – you’re missing out. This is one of only two devotionals I’ve read in my life that I believe God had a special hand in prompting. Each time I open the book, it has something specific and timely to say. That is extraordinary.
So when I opened it last night, after the weekend of roadway horror surrounding this part of the country, I found this as the verse of the day: You will not leave in haste. Isaiah 52:12. Now don’t tell me God lacks a sense of humor! :)

But here are some of the words in last night’s devotional:

I do not believe we have even begun to understand the wonderful power there is in being still. We are in such a hurry, always doing, that we are in danger of not allowing God the opportunity to work. You may be sure that God will never say to us, “Stand still,” “sit still,” or “Be still,” unless He is going to do something. This is our problem regarding the Christian life; we want to do something to be Christians instead of allowing Him to work in us.

Boy isn’t that the truth! At least for me! I feel most effective when I’m doing something.

So to just sit…

…and wait….

…and listen…

…is not easy.

But it’s an important part of the praying process. Prayer isn’t all about yapping. It’s about being still and waiting for Him to do His work.

So much to learn…so glad He’s patient.

Not Forgotten

The last couple of months have contained some wonderful moments, but they've also contained some really rough patches. I'm very thankful that things in Bekahland are running rather smoothly right now, because some of my friends are experiencing turmoil. I am not at liberty to go into details, but let's just say a number of days have demanded more from me than I thought I had to give.

I love my friends deeply and I do my best to be right there anytime I'm needed, but those of you who have that same approach to friendship will know it can often drain the heart. More nights than I care to number, I've counted on fleece sheets and down comforters to provide some sort of night-long pseudo-hug, and I've hoped the morning would bring a better day.

Much prayer, some long-suffering co-workers, and a handful of songs have gotten me through the days when I did not have one more ounce of strength. God is just good that way.

Last night I had the opportunity to go hear Reed, Craig and Dean in concert. (That would be Phillips, Craig and Dean, minus Phillips - who had a death in his family - plus a great fill-in whose last name was Reed.) My friend Marie was so gracious as to drive in the TRULY heinous weather we were having, since the concert was about a half hour away. CORRECTION. Half hour on a good day. Hour when you're driving 30 the whole way.

As I stood by the front door awaiting her arrival to pick me up, I noticed my garden flag was whipping and flapping in the wind. I thought about going out to retrieve it but I didn't want a hair re-style, so I ignored it.

When I came home, it was gone.

A silly thing, really. Just a garden flag. What, seven, eight dollars? Easily replaced. But it was the principle. I had time to take it down and I should have. I glanced around the yard as I got out of the car, but I knew it was futile. The wind whipped so fiercely that it was long gone. Yards away. And I didn't figure people would appreciate me hunting through their yards for my flag.

Today I woke up to a snow oddity. The back half of my driveway was bare and dry. The front half had a good foot high drift.

So after a day of fun, I trudged outside with my shovel to dig out the drive. About five minutes into the adventure...

My flag! Buried under the snow. Frozen stiff.

I could have cried, but I wasn't sure about ice cubes on my cheeks. Silly, I know, but bring on the proof that God cares about everything...all the way down to garden flags.

And these are the things that give me the strength to keep on going and keep on giving.

Mary Kay Miracles

Remember how I let you off the hook last week by not presuming to be fashionable enough to share fashion tips for Kelly's blog post idea? Well I should probably follow the same path for this week, but it's already after midnight and I'm pooped...so I'm plunging ahead.

This week her post topic is beauty tips. I'm a Mary Kay girl all the way...so pretty much anything in their catalog makes me happy. But here are a few of my faves.

I started using Mary Kay right after college. I had to ease my way into it because I couldn't afford it. One of the first things I started using was their Velocity skin care line. It's for teenagers. But my face (which was a connect-the-dots adventure in my teen years) still struggled to exit puberty, so I used it. And I'll tell you what - cleared me right up. I have, within the last couple of years, graduated to big girl skin care, but I still swear by this stuff!

I live in constant fear that my hands aren't soft...so I'm a big fan of Satin Hands, too. If you've never used it before - it's wonderful! It has a scrub, an extra thick cream, and a regular cream. Really really really gives you soft hands! Love it!

And if you have the need for soft lips - Satin lips can take care of that!! :) It has a lip mask and a really wonderful lip balm. Worth the money!

I also like their perfumes. Currently I'm addicted to Exotic Passionfruit. I have the perfume, the lotion, the gel, the sugar scrub....LOVE IT!

They have an eye makeup remover that is very mild and is excellent at removing waterproof mascara. Oh come on. Like you didn't think I wore waterproof. HELLO!! Queen of crying!

And finally - one of the best inventions - the travel roll up bag. It has four zippered bags inside and rolls up for easy storage and travel. AND it has a hook on the top so when opened, it can hang on the back of a door or over a shower ring.

So that's what I do in the world of beauty!! :)

Blue Dots and Buffet Shirts

Remember yesterday? Practicing for my Colts manicure?

That's the left hand. You're not going to be seeing the right one. It looks like a preschool art project.

I elected to quit while I was ahead and just make dots on the rest of my nails.

Valuable lesson learned by this project: TOP COAT REQUIRED. Our student worker came in my office today and said, "You have a blue dot on your forehead. It almost looks like it's from your nails."

Sure enough! One had come off and was resting happily on my forehead. I lost three more throughout the day. WOOPS. So I've now added the topcoat and am hoping for the best.

Today I also purchased my Super Bowl shirt. I have to say I was really disappointed in the selection available. I remember the last time the Colts went to the Super Bowl, Wal-Mart cleared its main aisle to put up racks and racks of shirts - all sizes, all designs, all prices. This time, after looking through both Meijer and Wal-Mart (which didn't take long since they each had about 2 small racks of shirts), I came away with a "Go Blue" shirt that is a medium.

Men's medium, that is.

We can wear them to work tomorrow, they said, as long as we don't wear jeans.

I asked my boss if I could just add a belt and wear it for a dress. After all - that doesn't break the jeans rule. :)

So I've simply dubbed the shirt, "the buffet shirt." I will not have to suck in after the party on Sunday! Room to grow!

Tiny Blue Horseshoes

I must preface this post with the disclaimer that I am not a good sports fan. I didn't grow up on sports. I struggle to understand basic concepts.

But I love a party.

So I've been working this whole football season to try to understand the game. You know, the home runs and free throws and such. :) Okay so I know it a little better than that. I've learned a few of the Colts players' names. I've learned when to scream with joy and when to boo. (On a two second delay after the crowd of course.)

All of this has been preparation for the Super Bowl!!

Tomorrow I will be purchasing my official Super Bowl shirt, which if I'm lucky (and rumor has it, I might be!) I'll get to wear at work on Friday - a rare treat. And sometime within the next few hours, I'll be doing the official Super Bowl manicure.

Can I just say....

tiny blue horseshoes are very hard to draw...

...especially left handed.

Chicken Puffs

I wanted to post this recipe a couple of weeks ago, but I decided to wait until Super Bowl time, because this really is a great snack for a party!

I first found this recipe the last time the Colts were in the Super Bowl. I'd been invited to a party at the home of some church friends, and I really wanted to take something everyone hadn't eaten before. So I tried this, and it was a hit!

The way the recipe is designed, each puff is very tiny. I've also made this as a main dish for myself...without cutting the rolls in half...and it's good that way, too! These do warm over pretty well - if you have any leftovers, that is.

I made these for a New Year's Eve party this past year, and now I've been asked to bring them to the Super Bowl party on Sunday, so I'm all geared up to make them again! So I'm sharing them with you....enjoy! And go Colts!

The Recipe

4 ounces cream cheese, softened
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
1/2 cup shredded cooked chicken
2 tubes (8 ounces each) refrigerated crescent rolls

In a small bowl, beat cream cheese and garlic powder until smooth. Stir in chicken. Unroll crescent dough; separate into 16 triangles. Cut each triangle in half lengthwise, forming two triangles. Place 1 teaspoon of chicken mixture in the center of each. Fold each short side over filling, press sides to seal, and roll up.

Place 1 inch apart on greased baking sheets. Baked at 375 for 12-14 minutes or until golden brown. Serve warm. Makes 32 appetizers.


It just so happens that when I make this on Sunday, I'll have an actual boiled shredded chicken breast to use, because I just made a whole package of chicken for another FABULOUS soon-to-be posted recipe. But most of the time I opt to use a can of of chicken, because it's much easier. I do use the low fat cream cheese and it works just fine.

I soften the cream cheese in the microwave (usually that's the final softening after I've had it sitting out for a while) and dump in the garlic powder.

I add the shredded up chicken and mix it together. Yes that's a knife. I'm weird.

I spread out the rolls one tube at a time on my cutting board (it's only big enough to accommodate one tube at a time) and cut them lengthwise down the middle. You end up with very skinny triangles.

After much experimenting, I've decided it's best to place the meat mixture right in the middle of the fattest part of the dough.

Then I fold the dough over it like this (try to tuck in all the meat so you don't lose any to the baking pan!) and roll it up.

And all rolled up, it looks like this:

As you can see, I wasn't very neat on this batch. But my rows are lined up nicely!

Golden brown delights. :)

Enjoy!! :)

Disorganized Beginnings

I'm sure it's my OCD tendencies, but I do so love very organized beginnings to new months. In fact, last year I took a day off work either the last day or first day of each month to sort of get everything in its place.

So I was NOT amused today to go flying out of the house without pouring the coffee I'd made (no time), not opening the curtains (no time), and skidding into work at LITERALLY the last possible minute.

Tonight I had a meeting I don't normally have on Mondays, so my evening routine was out of whack...you get the idea.

Having said this, I would like to pause amid the disorganization for a moment to remember...

...my kiddo.

Not mine by flesh and blood, but such a part of my heart. Little Miss Carol, the first baby whose birth I ever witnessed, left this earth to be in Heaven with Jesus. No warning. No time to plan or prepare, although how does a person ever prepare to say goodbye to such a sweet and tiny life?

I remember the phone call at work. I remember paging my ex-boyfriend over and over, not caring that we were exes...only knowing I needed him right then. I remember going into my neighboring counselor's office and crying on her shoulder. I remember being sent home but not being able to go home. I remember going to another friend's office and sitting in her cubicle until her staff meeting finished.

I remember wanting so much to go be with Carol's family but not feeling right about it since I wasn't family. I remember her mom calling me and asking me to come because she needed me. I remember sitting helplessly in their living room, feeling like I should know what to say because I'd walked that road before...years earlier...and yet not knowing what to say.

Funny what you remember.

Funny what you will yourself to remember, knowing there can never be new memories made.

I miss Carol. Nine years doesn't make that go away.