The Book Update Continues...

Earlier this week I responded to the publishing house I'm working with...to submit my changes regarding my book!

When I received the first set of proofs last week, a marketing team had made suggestions for changes in the text on the back cover of the book. I figure they're the marketing experts. I'm the marketing dropout. (Literally. I took a marketing class my last semester of college and dropped out after a week to make time to work more hours. Such an overachiever.)

They also offered a proof of the text so I could look over that. There was one thing I didn't like that they'd changed from my original way of submitting it, so after thinking about it for a while and taking a poll among potential readers, I asked them to change it back to the way I had it.

I heard back from them last night and they said modifications were underway, and when they're done, I'll get another set of proofs to check.

I've told some of you (in real life) that I struggle with the self-promotion portion of this journey. I love my writing. It's one of my favorite parts of my life. But even though I love it, I am not great at talking it up. I hate to sound like I'm bragging or pushing my work at people. So I know when the book is out, it's going to be a stretching experience for me to be enthusiastic. Talking about it here or on Facebook seems safe...talking about it in person is harder!

A Weekend Sampling

I know I posted some creative pictures a few days ago, but here are some "real" pictures from my weekend.

Saturday morning, I went to my "niece's" birthday party. A Strawberry shortcake extravaganza complete with the potting of actual strawberry plants and of course, strawberry cake. I also took advantage of the opportunity to bond with one of my "nephews." I promise he really DOES like me. He was mostly mad that what he hoped would give him a morning snack...didn't.

Here is the birthday girl with Aunt Bekah! As you can see...there were a few gifts to be perused!

I also had the fun of having my real niece stay with me this past weekend. She and the fam came in for a wedding. As part of our fun, we did a hair dye extravaganza. This was pre-dye.

Oh and I also cut bangs this weekend. Myself. Don't tell. I'm not supposed to play with scissors.

Sunday, Mom and Dad invited us all over for lunch - before the fam headed back to Kansas. I asked Mom for a "little" more ice in my tea. Clearly we have different definitions.

Lori's birthday is just a few days away, so before she left, we had an impromptu party. This wasn't my gift to her, but I thought it was cute. Tasteful yard trash.

Notebook Journey

I'm a journaler...this you know.

Several years ago, God took me on a journey that required its own notebook.

Then He did it again.

And again.

And again.

Now and then I get out the little half-filled composition books and walk the path again just to see what I learned in those days. Tonight is such a night. I dug this one out specifically to look for some song lyrics that I knew were in there somewhere. But oh the joy I found in other verses and quotes I'd added along the way.

Here is something I'd written back in July of '09 - after hearing Beth Moore speak on Life Today. Pivotal...these words, especially since just tonight after work, I came home, picked up my Bible, and read the account of Jacob wrestling.

He was going to get Jacob to say his name, which meant supplanter, heel grabber, cheater, deceiver...For me to get on to my new identity, I had to stand up and take some responsibility for it and go, 'This is where I am. This is what I'm dealing with here.'...He said his name so that God could change it. 'My name is Jacob, supplanter, cheater, deceiver.' And the man said, 'Your name will no longer be Jacob, but it will be Israel, which means to struggle with God.'

You talk about intimacy? You wrestle it out. You struggle with God. You did not quit. You were determined to hang on until the blessing came...Through the worst of our struggles it will be through wrestling the hardest things we ever go through in life, wrestling those things out with God, that we come out on the other side walking in our identity.

God says, 'You know what? We can't get you over there to the strength of your new name until you wrestle this through with Me...it's not about never doubting. It is about coming out on the other side with twice the faith you had going into your doubt...on the other side of that, that's where you begin to walk in your new name that God has been calling you since the foundation of the earth and you are finally acting like it.

Tonight there's been some wrestling in this house. It began the moment I walked in the door and has continued through the evening. And as soon as I hit "post," it will continue. I am determined to hang on until the blessing comes. I'm determined to wrestle until God delivers and heals.

And praise His Name, I believe He has already begun.

Hope Does Not Disappoint

God is good.

Have I mentioned that?

And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit whom He has given us. - Romans :2-5

He is doing a work. It's a work I cannot see right now, but it's a work I trust. And I rejoice in the hope He has placed in my heart. I rejoice in the work He is doing.

I felt flutter of excitement in my heart today...because I know He's up to something good. And I can't wait for Him to unveil it.

Bits for Sunday, April 25

I wish I could come to you today with words of great encouragement, but I am not sure that is the case. This has been a long week, filled with much prayer and many tears.

And in it all, God has been good.

Each morning when I open my devotional, the words are perfect. Even when I think they won’t be. Today was such a day. I opened the book to find the verse of the day was about Mary Magdalene at the tomb. I admit my heart sank a bit as I read the words. And yet, when I got into the meat of the devotional, I found these words: Our Savior is where our death seems to be. At the end of our hope, we find the brightest beginning of fulfillment. Where darkness seems the deepest, the most radiant light is set to emerge. And once the experience is complete, we find our garden is not disfigured by the tomb. Our joys are made better when sorrow is in the midst of them.

He came through once again.

He has heard my cries and seen my tears. He has held me. He has comforted me. He has spoken words of assurance and love. He has given me glimpses of hope when I think I have none. He has disciplined me when I start to stray from the path.

He has sent songs into my path…verses to my mind…all as a reminder that He is at work. He will receive the glory for the things that surround me right now.

Feeble though my attempts seem, I am praising Him for this storm and the sorrow it has brought to me and those I love. I am thankful for the way it has drawn me to His side. I am thanking Him in advance for the growth it will bring in my heart and walk.

I know this is short, but I have nothing more in my heart to say. I rest tonight knowing I am loved by an Almighty God. He is the giver of all good things. And on the other side of this wilderness is my Promised Land.

Pictures...

Haven't posted any pictures for a while. So I thought I'd let you see a few. :)

This morning was my "niece's" birthday party. While I was there in kid-central, I thought I'd play around with camera settings, and now I've been playing with my editing programs. Kind of fun!

Kaleb...enjoying his ice cream! Isn't he a cool dude?

Liam...always a ham.

Kaylah...working on the cupcake.

Cora...really not picking her nose.

...Jillian...loving that sucker!

And of course...what fun is a rainy morning if you stay out of the puddles?

Being Strong

Sometimes the Lord leads in ways I can't understand. Sometimes growth is not only challenging, but it's achingly painful.

Such is the road I walk right now. Deep sorrow and yet deep hope that underlies the sorrow. I can't explain it.

In fact, I don't even really have words. You know that's rare for me. (Take advantage while you can!)

The verse that was in Streams from the Desert yesterday was from Job 13:15 - "Though He slay me, yet will I hope in Him."

I have great hope in my God and the words I know I've heard from His heart to mine. And though this journey may not be what I would have planned, it's not one I would miss. He is leading me to the land He has promised me. I will walk with Him.

Today's Observation

I work in the land of college students, and that is always an adventure. Not quite as much of an adventure as Wal Mart, but still an adventure.

I have a specific group of students I'm assigned to work with and as they spend time with me over the years, they begin to develop a comfort level with me. They stop calling me "Mrs. Freelan" (for which I'm grateful) and start treating me like a normal person. Sometimes we even develop friendships and they'll share the happenings of their lives. I love that.

But people.

Oh, people.

There is a line.

It is still an office. I am still a professional of sorts - even though I don't often claim such stuffiness.

I've noticed, this year especially, that the emails that come my way (from near strangers, no less) are...well...they're like texts.

This is not a direct quote, but it's pretty close to some I've gotten. No exaggeration:

heyyyyyyyyyyyyy. i was like wondering if you knew when my aid would be ready lolol. idky i havent heard anything yet but my mom is wondering if you know so yeah if you could check into that and get back with me that would be great hahahaha.

Gone are the days of salutations, capitalization, punctuation, grammar, entire words, and a general sense of professionalism.

Scares me just a bit.

Things I Shouldn't Post, But Will...

I really want you all to like me. I really do.

I want you to think I'm neat and tidy and ready to welcome you at a moment's notice.

Truth be told, I would welcome you at a moment's notice. I would.

But lest you think I'm Super-Susie-Homemaker...allow me the chance to offer the following confessions.

* Why is it I can be home every night for a week and never get off the couch, but the very moment I have notice that company will arrive in about five hours, I fly into a cleaning frenzy and can have it all sparkling(ish) before the doorbell rings? Procrastination is the best motivation.

* My sheets are in the washer because tonight I give up my bed. Apparently only others are worthy of clean sheets. Just lil ole me - well, not so much.

* The light over the shower has been replaced after being out for about 2 1/2 weeks. Apparently I don't mind risking cutting an artery while shaving, but feel others should be able to see what they're doing.

* I very nearly asphyxiated myself cleaning the bathtub. I don't use it (BECAUSE I USE THE SHOWER...NOT BECAUSE I DON'T BATHE) on a regular basis...and it had gotten, um, nasty.

* My grocery list this week now contains more cleaning products than food products. That's how much I used up getting ready to welcome the masses.

* I really should not talk about the fridge, but let's just say you know it's bad when you very nearly chuck the entire 9x13 dish...actual dish and all.

* And now the cleaning is nearly done. I have to run to the gas station for some ice, put away the fleece sheets that have been sitting on the dining room table for about a month, pull the sheets out of the dryer and make the bed...and then the doorbell can ring.

You still love me, right?

Peace that Passeth Understanding

Normally I try not to speak in King James on my blog. But that's how I learned that verse, so today I make an exception and use it.

A few years ago, I attended the viewing of the lady who lived next door to me for most of my growing-up years. She had four children, and two of them were around my age, so I spent hours playing at their house or inviting them to play at mine. Great family. She was pretty young when she died of cancer.

I hadn't seen anyone in the family for years, and sometimes I'm clueless about the appropriate things to say in such situations. So when I got to the casket and stood next to her husband, I found myself searching for the right thing to say. He rescued me by speaking first. The one thing I remember him saying was that although he was brokenhearted, for the first time in his life, he understood what the Bible meant when it talked about the peace that passeth understanding. Those words have stayed with me.

Today I spent time in the prayer chapel at lunch and I asked God to shower me with His peace. I asked Him to do a work in my heart. Reveal to me whatever I needed to know. Y'all, that is like praying for patience. Don't ask it if you don't mind boot camp.

I did feel a peace settle over me. And this afternoon, as I sat at my desk, God opened my eyes to a rather humiliating realization, actually. I have no other explanation than to say He made it clear to me where I had been wrong and lifted a weight from my shoulders in a beautiful way.

It's a moment I won't forget. Like my neighbor, I grasped the peace that passeth understanding.

Bits for Sunday, April 18

When you write an email column, write a blog, and write on Facebook…and you’ve shot past 30…you start to forget what you said where. And when some people read all three, you start to feel bad about repeating yourself even when you know what you’ve said where. I say all of this because today’s news is somewhat old news in blogland and Facebookland, but for some of you it will be new. And for those of you who already heard…stick around! I have new details.

This week contained a monumental event in Bekahland. I received an email containing the proofs of my book cover and my book text. I remember a day (we won’t say how many years ago) when I stood in my bedroom on a late summer morning, and I received a phone call from Youthwalk magazine’s editor who told me she’d just chosen my article for publication in an upcoming issue. I wrote about my Dad’s depression and no one even knew I’d submitted the article, but I did, and she chose it. I remember calling my Mom at work and both of us crying with excitement. We bought many copies of that month’s Youthwalk, and I was thrilled to be on the path as a real writer.

When I received the email that I knew held the proofs…I tried to capture the emotion in just as much vivid color as I did that day back in high school when Youthwalk called. I savored every moment of gazing over that beautiful cover…reading my name at the bottom…looking at my picture and bio on the back. I made that first phone call filled with squeals of EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!! I called co-workers into my office to share with them. Great moment.

One of the best parts of the experience, which was completely unplanned, but definitely a “God-thing,” as one of my friends pointed out to me, had to do with the cover.

I should explain that this book is being published via the self-publishing route. Although a (great!) company is doing the design/layout/printing work, several tasks fell to me that would not be an author’s responsibility in the traditional book publishing world. One of those tasks was cover design.

The publishing house directed me to a website of stock photos and asked me to choose one that they could incorporate into a design for the cover. I thought (and boy was I wrong!) that because my book is about Advent, cover selection would be pretty simple. Not so much. After hours of searching through photos and trying to decide what message I wanted the cover to convey, I found a picture that I felt would work well with the words inside and submitted it.

Problem. That particular picture wasn’t usable. Apparently I missed the memo that not every photo on the site was up for grabs. And once I learned which ones were not permissible to use, my already scant options declined even further. I knew the lack of a cover design would put a hold on the publishing, and I didn’t want that, so in a moment of complete confusion, I found a picture in my computer that I took last Christmas for my blog Christmas tour.

It was a picture of my grandparents’ family Bible, open to Luke 2. Beside the Bible were some poinsettias I’d purchased years ago at the dollar store. And next to that was a ceramic nativity scene, painted white. I might mention that a few years ago, in a rather unfortunate turn of packing events, Jesus’ left arm broke completely off his body and now rests backwards, cradled in his right arm.

You can understand my hesitation to submit a photo in which the Savior of the World is holding his own detached arm.

But I had no choice, so with great apology for poor lighting (my bedroom is painted three shades of purple…none of them very light) and Jesus’ disfigured limb, I submitted the photo.

Oh how thankful we are for designers and Photoshop! The cover came back with the Bible, open to Luke 2, fading out at the bottom, and the dollar-store poinsettia leaf draping into the top of it. You can even see the tiny rip in the page where the Bible had been well-loved.

To anyone else, it’s just a pretty cover. But to me, it’s a reminder of the heritage I have. The family who raised me to love the Lord and writing (and frugal décor). And that made it all the more special.

This week I’ll send back to the publisher my corrections for the cover and the inside, and then I’ll wait to see the updated proofs. After that…I think we’ll be ready to print! That will be a whole new set of EEEEEEEEEEEEEE squeals!

You’ve been warned!

Growing and Learning

I've been doing a lot of growing and learning lately. I am a pretty scheduled person, as you know, and life with the pink day planner has been...well...under construction.

I've learned things like:

* exercising 3 days a week can be as productive as 5.

* some things are more important than sleep.

* prayer can be exhausting and yet exhilarating at the same time.

* houses should be above the reproach of the health department but not necessarily spotless.

* change is good.

Today I had a conversation about change. I admitted it's tough for me. And it is. But it's also beautiful. When I think back over the last decade...oh how thankful I am that I have changed. I am thankful I don't live in that bondage anymore. I am thankful I have experienced freedom and healing and second chances and beautiful gifts that I don't deserve but am delighted to have.

I hear my mom-friends talk about their kids going through growing pains. Literal physical pain that is necessary for the kids to grow into healthy adults.

Heart growth can create a "pain" too. Sometimes hurt...sometimes just stretching that leads to inexplicable emotion.

But I'm so thankful for it. My heart wells up with joy this evening because while I am exhausted from the stretching, I'm thrilled to go to bed tonight saying "I've learned something today." And while I'm subject to stumble over it again in the future, I can wake up tomorrow and say, "I'm doing better than I was yesterday!"

Thank you, Lord.

Book News!

You all have been very good to be supportive of me in this book journey, and I appreciate that!

In our writing classes in college, the professors told us that writing a book was much like having a baby. A long birthing process.

For me, today, another phase of labor ended. I received an email containing the proofs of the book!

In typical Bekah-fashion, I would like to say...EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!

Seeing that preliminary cover for the first time brought a rush of emotion that I can't quite sort out. It was definitely exciting to see my name and picture...and bio. Loved unveiling the mystery of what the cover would look like. I knew the picture they were working with, but I had no idea what they would do with it. I was pleasantly surprised.

I loved opening the attachment that had the inside design as well. Loved seeing what each page would look like.

I still have some work ahead of me as I look through the pages and make the final tweaks. But it feels real now. I remember the excitement I felt that day back in February when I finished it, burned it onto the CD and put it in the mail. Since then, I've just been waiting (semi-patiently) and now that flood of joy and anticipation has surged again. I love it.

Can't wait to share the design with you!

The Sound of His Voice

I had a conversation with my brother-in-law recently, in which he told me that he had confidence in my connection with the Lord. He told me I know when God is speaking and he trusts that I will know the Voice when I hear it.

Since I have a lot of respect for my brother-in-law, that was a pretty high compliment that I appreciated.

But today I've been challenged to focus on that Voice. This morning I was worried about something and was praying rather...okay, in a panic. And as I drove to work, praying hard, I really sensed a peace settling over my spirit, telling me everything was okay...He had it all under control...and I could stop worrying. And there in my car, I said out loud, "But God, how do I know that's You saying it and not just my own need to make myself feel better right this minute?"

Later, when all was resolved, I knew God was saying, "See, girl? I tried to tell you..."

I know that I know His Voice. And in these past few weeks, I've been more sure of it (in many ways) than I've ever been. But Satan loves to attack me in this area of my life. He knows if he can just get me to doubt a little...fear a little...he's got me and he's got me good.

Instead of going home at lunch, I drove to a park and sat under some beautiful white flowering trees. With the sun shining down its warmth, I spent some good time in prayer. I'm excited with what I heard God say - and I KNOW it's God.

You might remember that a couple of years ago, I spent every Tuesday lunch hour in the prayer chapel here at work, praying hard. I have a feeling that practice might be nudging its way back into my life....

...because I can't afford to doubt His Voice.

Bits for Sunday, April 11

Ohhhhh the adventures.

Life is never dull in Bekahland.

This weekend I had the opportunity to take a little road trip and visit a friend. So I packed up the car, got on an interstate (yes, you read that right!), drove through a city (yes, you read that right too!) and followed directions to my intended destination.

Please let the record show I did not get lost a single time. I thought I did once. I saw a sign that had the road number I needed, so I flipped on the turn signal…and realized I was about to turn into a McDonald’s parking lot. I almost grabbed the phone to call for rescue, but I said to myself, “Rebekah, you are a college educated person. You are certain that the McDonald’s drive thru is NOT a major thoroughfare. If you will keep driving, you will probably find said thoroughfare. Do not call for help when you are going to admit you can’t distinguish a road from a fast food parking lot.” My pep talk must have worked well. I kept driving and found the road.

Now you know me well enough to know I’m a planner-girl. Life goes by the method of the pink day planner, and there are no two ways about it. Whenever I travel, I begin weeks ahead of time researching hotels. I read dozens – sometimes hundreds – of reviews. I pick my pillow based on continental breakfasts, safety levels, and how many floors the buildings have.

This trip was last minute. No time for research. And truthfully, since I wasn’t spending a lot of time at the hotel (other than to actually sleep), I didn’t care about much of anything. If the door locked, the bed didn’t have bugs, and the toilet flushed, it worked for me.

Enter the Motel 6.

I don’t think I’ve stayed at a Motel 6 since I was a kid. But the price was right, the location was good, and I was satisfied. After I did (triple) lock the door behind me the first night, I immediately went in search of the heating/cooling/fan system. I can’t sleep without a fan. I’d considered taking mine from home with me but didn’t. I knew I’d be alone in the room and could crank the fan all I wanted.

Problem.

No fan. No nothing under the window. What!? A hotel without a heating/cooling system under the window? I began to inspect the room. After some time, I found a tiny thermostat box on the wall. I turned on the fan and heard a hissing similar to a gas leak. I refused to let my mind think about THAT and hoped the hissing would suffice as white noise.

I went into the bathroom and flipped on the light to listen for THAT fan to see if it was better. No fan. No fan…and I could hear the people in the hall. That pretty much told me they could hear me too.

I’d been told that the location of the hotel was just on the other side of the time zone change. My cell phone dutifully changed with it, so I began to mentally calculate the difference, but just to be on the safe side, I decided to check the bedside clock.

No clock.

No problem. I had my cell. What I didn’t know was that it was randomly changing back and forth between time zones. Literally from one minute to the next I had no idea which zone it might choose. Allow me to admit it made for one really embarrassing phone call at 5:45 a.m.
But my favorite…favorite…moment came this morning as I got ready for church. I’d plugged in my flat iron and was getting the clothes out…things arranged…teeth brushed…and I smelled something funny. After a couple of moments of not being able to figure it out…I looked down and saw thick, black smoke literally billowing out of the flat iron.

Leave it to me to burn down a motel.

I managed to get it unplugged…waved away the smoke before it could activate the sprinkler system…and said a mournful farewell to my trusty iron.

Let it never be said that life with me is dull!

Hot Chicken Salad

Remember these?? Recipes?? I finally have a new one for you. This is one of the newest recipes I have in my collection, but it was an INSTANT favorite. Hope you love it too!

I first had this dish around Christmas when my friend Marie had some left from a family dinner and brought me a helping because she thought it sounded like something I'd like to eat. Does she know me or WHAT!?!? I immediately asked for the recipe and have made it more than once since!

I'm a big chicken salad fan and love it that this one is extra comforting because it's warm. It also heats up well as a leftover. It's pretty easy to assemble...and you can actually assemble it ahead of time, refrigerate it, and bake it when you're ready, which helps save time!

The Recipe

3 cups chicken, diced
1 can water chestnuts, drained & sliced
1 cup slivered almonds (1 1/2 oz package or smaller)
2 cups celery, chopped
1 cup shredded cheddar cheese
1 tsp salt
1/4 tsp pepper
1 tbsp lemon juice OR vinegar
1 1/2 cup mayonnaise
1 small can fried onions

Mix all together and bake for 30 minutes at 350 in an 11x7 baking dish.

You will be so proud to know that DESPITE the fact I forgot to buy celery the day I made this, I still took pictures to post the recipe. This is Bekah learning to be less OCD! But I must say...the celery really does add to it. I don't want to make that mistake again! Tip about celery: sometimes when I make a dish that calls for it, I end up throwing out most of the celery because I need just a stalk or two and I end up not eating the rest. Last time, I just bought a little cup of pre-cut celery in water. It was clean and I ended up not throwing away a bunch of food. Worth the little extra bit of cost to purchase.


Sometimes when I make dishes like this, I use canned chicken just to speed it up. This time I decided to boil and chop the chicken myself. I started out with 2 packages of chicken tenders. I prefer cooking with them instead of chicken breasts because they're smaller and cook faster.

I put the chicken in a pot of water and bring it to a boil. I let it boil until it is cooked all the way through (which I find out by checking inside to see if it's still pink). The water gets kind of a scaly white thing on top as it cooks.

Very hot chicken! I pull it out of the water and chop it on the cutting board. I kept the extra pieces of chicken to use on top of salads or in other recipes along the way.

I shredded up the chicken once it cooled a bit.

I'm lazy, so I just measure the chicken in a liquid cup (Home Ec teacher would think I'm a failure, but it works for me) so I can see when I get to the 3 cup mark.

After I drain the water chestnuts, I just chop them up. I don't have the finesse of the Food Network people when I do it, but I do get the job accomplished, thankyouverymuch.

I use the Pampered Chef Measure-All cup to measure the mayo. I do not have the patience to dig it out of regular cups.

I literally dump everything into a big bowl. No rhyme or reason.

I try to stir it up really well so you don't get a bite of all one thing.

Spread it out into the baking dish...

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM.

Oh the Adventures

It's been an eventful week here in Bekahland. Here are some of the events, in no particular order.

* Yesterday I had a first at work...I received a business email signed XOXOXO. Financial Aid isn't really an office where we're prone to "feeling the love" so that was kind of a new experience.

* Last night was the first official lawn mowing of the season. I do not love mowing but I do love the smell of freshly cut grass, so it pays off. My "mowing shoes" are always my retired running shoes. I was in such a hurry to get outside to exercise after mowing and before dark that I forgot to change my mowing shoes to my running shoes. This particular pair of shoes became retired because the left heel broke through. Let's just say it was quite an experience to exercise on a broken shoe. (No time to come home and change into the right ones.)

* The reason I was in such a hurry was because in between mowing and working out, I tried to order some pictures online. I just needed pictures of Easter. Six pictures...two copies of each. As I hit "submit" on my order, I noticed I'd somehow...DON'T KNOW HOW...ordered NINETY PHOTOS. Easter was okay but it wasn't 90 pictures good. So I had to scramble to call the store (three times before I got an answer, of course) to cancel that bad boy before it printed.

* This is a great story in full detail but unfortunately my pride/interest in keeping my job prevents me from printing it in its entirety. Yesterday in a conversation with my boss, I COMPLETELY insulted her. Absolutely spoke before stopping to consider how my words would come out. Thank the Lord she has a good sense of humor and just cracked up over both what I said and the horrified look that followed.

* Last night - literally smack in the middle of my broken shoe walk - I developed an ear problem. WHAT?!?! How does that happen? One minute...fine. Next minute, passed a runner, smiled, and thought - OW! My ear hurts! By the time I got home, it was hurting pretty badly and I was starting to get that "I can't hear anything but my own chewing" feeling. I had this a couple of years ago and it took a while for it to go away. So today I began the routine to try to cure it. I do feel better than I did during the day today, when I was basically in excruciating pain. And I'm so over hearing myself chew. ANNOYING.

I think that's about all the adventure I can remember. OH! And I got "snooze" and "off" confused on my alarm this morning. Good thing God bailed me out on that one. :)

Easter!

Sunday was, of course, Easter, and this year our family lunch was at Mom and Dad's house.

Mom made a fabulous fruit dessert, which tasted as good as it looked. I had her pose with it...and of course she talked to me the entire time instead of just smiling at the camera. Sigh. Will she never learn??

Then it was time to turn over the camera TO Mom. She stood in front of Julie and me and literally lunged forward at us to zoom. Hence our laughter.

Photo of the Papa.

This year's Easter dress. I loved it, it fit, AND I could afford it. BINGO!!!!! And I did not have to shop with cross-dressers to get it.

For This I'm Thankful...

If the Lord delights in a man's way, he makes his steps firm;
though he stumble, he will not fall, for the Lord upholds him with his hand.

Psalm 37:23

Bits for Sunday, April 4

I haven’t shared with you in a while the progress on my book project. Back at the end of February, I submitted it to the publisher I’m using, and since then I’ve been waiting to see a copy of it in the format they’ll use to print it. That may happen even yet this next week! So excited…and so nervous all at the same time.

Odd that an Advent project would be something to talk about at this Easter time, but I’m an advocate of remembering, even at Christmas time, that the point of Jesus’ birth wasn’t just to celebrate a cutesy baby. Jesus was born so He could grow…and minister…and sacrifice His life for ours. So my project goes, as I like to say, “from Mary to Mary.” From Mary His mother to the Mary who went to the tomb Easter morning to find an empty cave before her.

So to celebrate this Easter with you today, I want to share an excerpt from that last chapter of the project. Hope you enjoy!

Mary stood alone outside an empty tomb. She didn’t conceal her tears, nor could she have done so if she’d wanted.

The tears started Friday morning when Pilate sentenced Jesus to death.

The tears intensified Friday afternoon as He breathed His last.

The tears hadn’t stopped all weekend while she waited for the Sabbath to end so she could hurry to the tomb and tend to His body. He deserved a proper burial and she intended to see to it personally that He received it.

But when she arrived at the tomb, His body was gone. Anger had risen in her heart – even in death they couldn’t leave Him alone? These leaders and teachers hadn’t tortured Him enough in life? They had to steal Him in death? Anguish dug even more deeply into her soul as the thoughts swept through her mind once more.

Some of the disciples had been there with her just moments before but they had gone back home. She didn’t know why they left her, but she couldn’t bring herself to leave the opening of the tomb that should have held Jesus’ body.

She bent over to look in one more time – wondering if perhaps her eyes had been so blinded by tears that she just didn’t see the Body. Maybe if she looked again, it would be there right where it should be.

Much to her surprise, the tomb was not empty – but it wasn’t because the Body had suddenly appeared. Angels – clothed in white – stood in the tomb. She had heard talk of angels, but she’d never seen them. And yet now they stood before her and even spoke to her.

“Woman, why are you crying?”

Mary felt a little strange talking to angels, but she was desperate for answers. “They have taken my Lord away, and I don’t know where they have put him.”

The hurt and grief rose up so greatly in her heart that she had to turn away. As she turned from the tomb, a man stood before her.

It wasn’t the disciples, returning to be with her. She didn’t know this man. Perhaps he was the gardener. It would make sense. He would want to be out tending to his property after the Sabbath.

He spoke to her, “Woman, why are you crying? Who is it you are looking for?”

Hadn’t he heard her answer to the angels in the tomb? They had just asked her that very question!

Perhaps she quickly hoped he hadn’t heard her conversation with the angels. After all, maybe she was the only one who could see the angels, and if someone found her conversing with herself, he might think the demons had returned to possess her. And if they did return, she would be stuck with them for life. Jesus wasn’t here to cast them out again.

Mary rushed into an explanation before the gardener could think too much of the situation. She pled with him, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him, and I will get him.” She could understand this man might not want Jesus of Nazareth resting in his tomb for all eternity. Given the way He had died, His presence in that tomb might be inviting trouble for the good gardener. She wouldn’t blame him for wanting the Body gone. But Mary just needed to get to that Body and demonstrate her love by giving it a proper preparation. She realized she had said she would get the Body if he’d just tell her where he had put it. She wasn’t sure how she planned to transport it, but it didn’t matter. She had to find it.

And then The Voice broke into her thoughts.

Mary.

Warm relief encased her heart. It was His Voice. She could hear it. Her memory hadn’t lost the sound of His gentle Voice.

But wait.

It was His voice. Not just memory speaking to her soul.

She turned to face the Man. “Rabboni!” Her teacher had come back. He was here. He wasn’t in the tomb because He wasn’t dead! He was alive! He was touching her hands! He was gripping her arms as her knees buckled beneath her. She grasped tightly to His clothing and held onto Him in a grip that continued alongside her tears.

Open Hands...

This past month, as I've mentioned in other posts, has been filled with moments in which God has spoken strongly to my heart.

While I'm not one to share the most intimate details of my relationship with God, this one was so pivotal, I want to share it with you.

The struggle I've faced this week has been a particularly irrational fear. Logic tells me I shouldn't fear; history tells me otherwise. The fear has, at times, been paralyzing to my heart and finally, yesterday, I begged God to release me from it. To allow me to live in the joy that really does overwhelm my heart. To rest fully in the peace He has showered over my mind.

Today I came home from helping decorate the church for Easter, and I laid down on the bed, my heart vacillating between fear and peace. I didn't even say words out loud...I just asked God in a heart-whisper to please teach me. Please speak to me. Please show me how to gain victory in this situation.

And He did.

He reminded me of something I heard long ago and had completely forgotten about until I asked for help today. I don't know if someone told me this or if I read it somewhere, but I remember learning that someone struggling with fear and control learned to open her hand. Physically open her hand until her palm was flat toward the sky and her fingers spread wide. And in that physical act of opening her hand, she learned to let go. Let go of the fear. Let go of the control. Let go of whatever consumed her. It reminded her of Who really is in control.

And so, stretched out on my bed, I uncurled my hand and spread my palm wide toward Heaven. And I knew He had everything in His hand...and was much more able to work with me now that I'm not trying to run the show.

God has blessed my socks off in recent weeks. Never really thought about it until I started to type this sentence, but I think I've been able to see more of the fruit of His Spirit in me now than ever before. My heart overflows with joy and there's absolutely no other aura I'd rather show than the joy and peace He's placed in me. And while I know letting go of fear is going to be a process, it's one I'm ready to tackle with open hands.

Missing the Pageant

Today felt like Saturday. I zoomed my way right through a school zone because I totally forgot it was a weekday. Woops.

But tonight, as I have given extra thought to the reason we observe Good Friday, I have missed the Pageant. The Easter Pageant, that is.

I've written about it before, but in case you're new to my blog, here's the synopsis. For years here in Marion, the community presented an Easter Pageant to portray the Holy Week, Jesus' death and resurrection.

My first time to be in it, I was in utero. I don't remember much about that. I was just short of three years old the next time I was in it...and I participated every year after until it stopped production when I was in my mid-twenties.

And Easter hasn't seemed like Easter since.

Tonight would have been a performance night, and right about now I'd be in the shower trying to scrub off dark brown makeup from my arms and face. (Not to mention fetching blue eyeshadow and deep brown lipstick. Oh yes. Fetching.) Instead I'm curled up on the couch ready to share these pictures with you.

Until the very end when attendance waned, this was the type of view you could see if you drove past the Coliseum where the pageant was held. Lines started early and tickets were sought after. (The performance "stage" was the entire basketball floor of the Coliseum, along with the actual stage at the end of it, and the audience sat in the bleachers all around.)

The Pageant didn't have a script of spoken word. The story was told entirely through music, provided by a choir and orchestra. I have the whole thing memorized. Love singing it.

Sorry these next few pictures are in a very random order. Issues with the album. This was one of the most spectacular sights of the whole pageant. I never saw it until I was in my twenties. The role I played prior to that had me backstage during this part, but I remember the first year I had a new part and got to see this live. Breathtaking. The curtain came up to this sight, and then they broke the scene to take communion and returned to this as the curtain went down.

The year I saw the Last Supper for the first time was also the first time I got to watch the resurrection scene. Very moving. The tomb would be dark when the women first arrived and then the light came on and the angel appeared.

In the pageant, we called Jesus "the Christus" - and he was always in costume, even in early rehearsals when everyone else wore regular clothing. He was always portrayed by a member of the clergy.

Judas accepting 30 pieces of silver in exchange for his betrayal.

Silent before His accusers.

Agonizing in the garden.

The crowd shouting for crucifixion as Pilate deliberates with his counselors.

He bore our sins and our sorrows.

Take this cup and drink...

Going into the garden to pray...

Today (and all days) I'm thankful for His sacrifice.

God is GOOD

Not that this is new information.

He's always been good.

This week has been full of some of the most beautiful moments and some of the hardest moments...and in it all, God has been good.

Several months ago, I walked...no, I crawled...perhaps I was dragged?...through a significant spiritual drought. My prayer life was embarrassing; my devotional life worse than that. I felt like an utter failure to God and the person He made me to be. And I told Him so. (Why hide it, right?)

It is no coincidence to me that these past (almost...hallelujah!) forty days of Lent have been days of silent driving for me. The prayers that have been offered up behind the wheel have far surpassed "please make this light turn green" and have become beautiful moments of conversation with the Lord. And those moments have spilled over into my non-driving life, too.

Chris, you've told me over and over the merits of praying on your knees, and I have to say...I get it now. Many days recently have found me on my knees or just flat out on my face before the Lord, and I love it. I love the peace He gives. I love the whispers to my heart. I love the acceptance of my prayers...which have ranged from screechingly giddy to deep cries.

My heart is full of joy and hope. God is good. He has been good to walk this journey with me, to meet me at each turn with just the strength I need. Just the calm I need.

I know whom I have believed, and am convinced that he is able to guard what I have entrusted to him for that day. - 2 Timothy 1:12