The Big Five Five

Today is my parent's fifty-fifth wedding anniversary. Five years ago, my sisters and I planned an open house for them. So many people came through to congratulate them...we ate a lot of cake...we took a plethora of pictures...I thought it was a fun party. Hopefully they did too!

This year they're taking a trip to the bulk food store. The celebration goes downhill fast in five years, apparently! :)

I sent them on their merry way with a gift card for a nice dinner out. Not that they'll be the least bit interested in eating after their hot date at the bulk food store. Mom is buying some spice. Lemon zest or something like that. Dad will probably get a big jar of those orange chewy peanut shaped things he likes. I think they're horrible. But that's okay. More for him!

And I will just sit here and wish them well - and remain thankful to have parents who have persevered that many years!

Sigh of Happiness

I went to work at 6:30 this morning. I don't believe in 6:30 in the morning. In fact, I don't believe in mornings at all. But tis the season to be behind on work, so I went in to try to catch up. And by catch up, I mean try to stay alive.

I guzzled coffee. I took walks. I had a giant iced tea. But the thing that really kept me going all day was the knowledge that right after work...massage time.

Some people get massages all the time, and if you don't tell, I'll confide in you that I envy them. I love a good massage, but I don't love the price tag that accompanies them. Therefore I only get one about once a year.

Tonight was my night.

And here's what I have to say.....ahhhhhhh.

Bits for Sunday, August 16, 2009

Today was baby James’ dedication. I sat in the front row of the sanctuary (just for that…don’t worry…I’m still partial to the back of the church!) two cameras in hand, snapping pictures of a snoozing sweetie who was oblivious to the significance of the moment.

Chris and Trudy promised to teach little James the ways of the Lord, while big sister Savannah flashed a gigantic smile to show me her very first gap created by a lost tooth. Big brother Liam squirmed ferociously to get down and move on to the next activity while the church family behind me stood to their feet and vowed to support this family in raising a new little life to know about God’s love. Even when he’s five and running in the halls. (See, Brian? I was listening!) Perhaps especially when he’s five and running in the halls.

Though my time in the moment was consumed with photography, listening, rescuing the bottle when it got in the way, and making goofy faces at the kids, I later had time to think about that little ceremony and what it means.

I was just two days younger than James when my parents stood at the front of another church and promised to do their best to raise me to know the Lord. And that wasn’t a task they took lightly. Dad told me bedtime stories every night – straight out of the Bible. Mom taught me memory verses and how to tithe. They rehearsed lines with me when I had a part in the Christmas program. They taught me to sit still in church, listen to the sermon even when I didn’t understand all of it, and learn the words to the hymns. When I got older, they carted me back and forth to bell choir practice and youth group. And they always made sure we had daily devotions as a family – even when I rolled my eyes.

A baby dedication is a nice service. It’s a chance to invite the grandparents, aunts and uncles, dress up in fancier-than-normal clothes, take some pictures, and have a special announcement in the bulletin. It does make a fabulous scrapbook page and a pleasant memory.

But it is so much more.

It’s a declaration of a permanent commitment to work incredibly hard. To pack a lifetime (it seems) of spiritual truths into just a few short years. To be on a vigilant watch for teachable moments. To remember that sometimes the greatest lessons are not purposefully taught but simply lived.

Baby James missed his entire dedication and the after-church photo shoot where he was passed from one set of loving and eager arms to another. When I had the chance to hold him for just a few minutes, he snuggled up close and continued his nap. And even though I’m not his mom, and my moments with him will be sporadic, I know I want to make those moments count.

I’m thankful to have the opportunity to have these adopted nieces and nephews to love and invest in. I am so glad to have been in that church service today, snapping pictures, but I also recognize the responsibility that goes beyond those ten minutes. Even for an aunt.

Baby Dedication

Today I went back to the church I used to attend so I could be there for James' baby dedication. I'd not visited since I left a year ago, so I was a little bit nervous to go back. But everyone was very nice to me, and I appreciated that!

Pastor Brian did the dedication - his first ever, he said! I thought he did a great job, and he was even thoughtful enough to ask if everyone was in a good location for the pictures. :)

James looked SO TINY today. It was the first I'd seen him since he was born. (Looks really different in clothes! LOL) Anyway, he's a little snuggler, which makes me so happy. I love snuggly babies. Loud ones and stinky ones...ehhh, not so much. (just kidding!)

So here we are. Chris wanted me to turn him around for the camera, but he was so comfy I just didn't want to bother him. So we modified. With me is Kathy, who was their doula. (If you don't know what that means...neither do I, really! She was part of the birthing team. She and I were there for all four kids.)

The Cure-All

...for weeks such as this? A day at the lake. I was tired of feeling beaten up AND down at the same time. It takes a special kind of talent to experience both at once. :) My friend Ronda asked if I was busy this weekend. Amazingly enough, the answer was no, so she invited me to visit her at the lake.

OKAY!!!!

I'm fond of lakes in a sit-and-look-at-them sort of way. But to voluntarily crawl in fish-hooey infested waters and watch seaweed drape across my arm...it's not really my thing. But Ronda talked me into it! Take a good look. This is me IN a lake. Not AT a lake. IN a lake. And this is Ronda, who cheered me so.

Ronda was dog sitting for her daughter, so this is my new friend, Addie. I'd tell you her breed but I don't remember. I'd never heard of it before. She was beyond energetic, but she was cute! She does not like water, so we put her on this raft. She didn't like it either.

Ronda braved getting the boat out by herself and did a FABULOUS job. This is the view of the great big houses....from the swimming hole.

I could take those, you see, because I was not IN the swimming hole. I was being conscious of my straight hair, so I stayed in the boat. LOL. Ronda said I was being a diva. YEP!!!! Addie and I hung out in the boat.

After a while, she did get brave and managed to peek over the side of the boat.

So that's a tour of the day at the lake. It was complete with grilled sausage and corn on the cob and pasta salad...mmmmmm. And of course, a sunburn. I'm going to look SO CUTE tomorrow.

OH! And I just wanted to take a moment to say that I did successfully help get the boat back in the lift and up out of the water. I think the fisherman behind me got quite an entertaining view during that adventure.

Journals

I should be sleeping but wanted to post this before heading to bed.

A few months ago, I bought The Journals of Jim Elliot. At 475 pages, it's significantly longer than most books I buy, but his life so fascinates me that I wanted to read his raw words. I'm reading very slowly, as his thoughts are full of meaning that I want to absorb and appreciate.

Because I know he and I think along the same wavelength, I bought the book for my brother-in-law for his birthday. We chat about it now and then...about what we're learning and how we're being challenged from words scrawled in a notebook years ago.

I love journaling and do it in a variety of ways. My scrapbooks are journals of sorts. I have actual journal books. Even the Bible studies I write become journals when I share details of my life events and how they relate to the topic at hand.

This week has drained my heart...and by tonight it had sapped much of my spirit, too. I was the girl out on the running path who occasionally could be seen swatting bugs and wiping a random tear. Interesting and maddening how the words of someone I don't even know in real life could affect me so profoundly. How I can hear them echoing in my mind as I run...as I cook...as I try to fall asleep at night. How his opinion of me, which I will not repeat in polite company but can assure you is less than favorable, has caused me to question everything about who I am.

It makes the moments profoundly lonely when I am caught up in those thoughts and have no one to pull me away from them or refute them.

When I came home from my run tonight, defeated by the thoughts, I sat down with some journal entries I wrote a few years back after a deeply moving seven-week encounter with God. I shook my head at my own words, hardly able to believe they were coming back to encourage me. I hadn't intended to be my own audience, but I found comfort in the lessons I learned in a little prayer chapel. I am so thankful I took time (on the spot) to document that time in my life, as I'd forgotten much of the detail. But God is a God of detail and faithfulness.

And for that, I am thankful.

Have You Thanked Your Parents Today?

My dad called yesterday. The man can talk for hours (and I do mean hours) out and about. He can turn a trip to the bank into a three hour excursion. Two minutes of banking and two hours and fifty-eight minutes of socializing. But when it comes to the phone...at least with me...it's "less is more." He knows I normally call to chat with Mom, so if he answers, the conversation is something like this: "Hello? Hi, hang-on-I'll-get-her." Bless his heart.

If he does call to talk to me, it probably means I'm late for an oil change. (Which reminds me....better look into that!) Or...he wants to know what time my lunch hour is tomorrow so he can make connections with me to drop off a sack of stuff from Mom. Or...he ran into so-and-so at the bank and they said to tell me hi. That sort of thing.

Last night he called, and I was (shock of ALL shocks) on the phone with the internet troubleshooting department, so I couldn't take his call. Once I was up and running...again...I called him back. He said he just wanted to tell me he really liked "Bits" on Sunday.

I about dropped the phone.

It's not that he dislikes them any other week. It's just that he's normally neutral about the writing. To have a special long-distance phone call just to tell me he liked what I wrote was the highlight of my day. It reminded me of the Sunday when I stood in the bathroom straightening my hair before church, listening to Dad on the radio, and I heard him begin to read aloud some words that sounded very familiar. Then I knew...they were my words! He'd never read my stuff on the air before. I ran around the bedroom squeaking quite unceremoniously, scaring the cats. But to hear my own words through the radio waves...from my own Dad...that was exhilarating.

Affirmation is good.

And because I had so recently experienced that joy, I turned it back around to him (to both my parents) today. I can't go into the specifics, but I had an encounter today that made me so thankful my parents had never been "those parents." Sure they loved me. Sure they went to bat for me. (Shoot, Mom's still going to bat for me at 31!) But they knew how to say no. They knew where to draw the line and even though I thought some of their decisions were mercilessly unfair, they stood firm. And now, looking back, I'd probably have done the same thing they did. And I told them so...when I called to thank them. I probably owe them something far greater than a "thank you." But I thought it just might make their day.

Bits for Sunday, August 9, 2009

I worked on writing a Bible study today. Those are always quite a production here in Bekahland…Bibles spread all over the living room, notebooks with all my late-night research scribbled inside, and the trusty computer ready to take on every word I write down. A few hours later, I emerged with a study mostly written. Well…entirely written, but still in need of some tweaking.

In the course of my research, I found this sentence in a Matthew Henry commentary, and it stuck with me. I was researching Peninnah, the “other woman” in the marriage of Hannah and Elkanah. Peninnah was the one who had the kids Hannah longed for…but she didn’t have Elkanah’s love…because he reserved that for Hannah alone. The commentary said, “Peninnah could not bear the blessing of fruitfulness, but she grew haughty and insolent; Hannah could not bear the affliction of barrenness, but she grew melancholy and discontented.”

Peninnah could not bear the blessing.

Wow.

Hannah’s problem was a social curse. To be childless in those days was disastrous. Men needed children…sons, especially. It wasn’t just about carrying on the family name, although that was part of it. They needed children to help with the family work. They needed warriors to protect their people. Women needed children to provide for them when they grew old and were widowed. To not have children…was unthinkable.

Peninnah’s problem was a personal curse. More than likely, she was brought into Elkanah’s life just to bear children, since Hannah could not. And that is exactly what she did. The Bible doesn’t say how many, but it implies that there were several. A household filled with a wonderful mix of personalities and potential. Little creative minds just begging to be cultivated into all they could be. Cuddlers and pranksters, jokesters and thinkers…little lives bubbling with promise and hope as little lives do best. Teachable moments in the family tent…storytelling around the fire after dark…watching the blossoming interests even in childhood. Hers was a rich and blessed life! And yet she could not bear the blessing.

Made me wonder if I’m unable to bear the blessing, too. If I’m missing the glory of what I have because I’m too engrossed in what I wish I had. If I hurt God’s heart when He sees me choosing to overlook what He has placed in my life. Choosing to focus my energies on trying to coerce him to see things my way.

I don’t want that to be my legacy. I don’t want people to look over my life – now or when I’m gone – and say I was unable to bear the blessing. I want to embrace it. Live it fully. Love every minute.

Peanut Butter Cookies

I am always on the lookout for "the perfect cookie" of every variety. I've told you that I've tasted the perfect chocolate chip cookie, but I don't have that recipe, so the one on my list is second best. This peanut butter cookie, however, is as far as I can tell...the perfect cookie. I found the recipe on the little wrapper that surrounds the Crisco sticks. Normally I balk at such recipes, much preferring the ones that come from sources I know. But I gave it a shot, and WOW I'm glad I did!

These cookies - at least in my house - sure don't last long. I could pretty much eat the entire batch as it comes out of the oven. Perfect with a big glass of milk. I'm not even kidding when I say these melt in your mouth!!

The Recipe:

3/4 cup creamy peanut butter
1/2 cup butter flavored shortening
1 1/4 cups firmly packed brown sugar
3 Tablespoons of milk
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 egg
1 3/4 cups flour
3/4 teaspoons baking soda
3/4 teaspoons salt

Combine peanut butter, shortening, brown sugar, milk, and vanilla in large bowl. Beat at medium speed until well blended. Add egg. Beat until blended. Combine flour, baking soda and salt. Add to creamed mixture at low speed. Mix until blended. Drop onto greased baking sheet. Flatten into a criss-crossed pattern with a fork. Bake at 375 for 7-8 minutes.

I use the Crisco sticks for the shortening because I hate measuring shortening in a cup. I use 1% milk in my cooking and it does fine in this recipe. And as always, I use pure vanilla extract, not imitation.

I use my Pampered Chef Measure-All cup for the peanut butter because again - hate the mess of measuring in a regular cup!

When I mix things by hand, I usually melt the shortening first, but since this uses an electric mixer, I just put it in without melting it. This is the peanut butter, shortening, brown sugar, milk, egg, and vanilla. I just throw them all in at once.

It mixes together very easily and is a rough texture after it blends.

I mix the flour, baking soda and salt in a separate bowl and pour it in a little at a time, trying not to let powder fly all over the kitchen!

Once it starts to get thick, I switch to mixing with a spatula by hand. This is partly because my best mixer broke and I haven't yet replaced it. And the mixer I still have is kind of low-power. I try to help it out when I can. :)

The finished product is pretty thick.

Don't forget to grease the cookie sheet! Most of my cookie recipes don't call for that, but this one does.

To try to help the whole health situation (HA!) I don't dip the fork in sugar before I make the criss-cross pattern.

Mmmmm. Kinda wish I had one right now! Very yummy!

Busy Busy Busy

I thought life would slow down once my waiting game ended. WRONG!!!!

We have entered our busy season at work, which means the added potential of going in early or staying late just to stay afloat. I anticipate that beginning next week, I'll have the phone glued to my little ear, and I'll be saying "Grand Central Station...how may I direct your call?"

I spent the last few days catching up on all the things I didn't quite get around to in the baby-waiting-game days. I made a ton of cards. (I told the post office lady on Monday that I thought it was my personal record for number of cards sent to one household in one day: five.) I got mostly caught up on the scrapping. Just a couple of undone pages to tidy up. I cleaned the house. Sort of. I conquered the visible dirt, at any rate.

And then of course, there were the "schedule time out to accomplish this" tasks that had gone unscheduled during that time. Yesterday I had my hair thinned. People, I know that I should be grateful to have a lot of hair, and truly, I try to be, but my GOODNESS!!! I had become a chia pet! It was not good. I also had to get my phone upgraded, because I was way past due for that. My poor phone has been issue-laden for a while due to a rather unfortunate encounter with a wall. Long story.

A couple of days ago, I cooked a meal for my friend Rachel, who is moving soon and needs to focus her time on packing, not cooking. Who has time to cook when there are boxes screaming, "PACK ME!" You should be glad I made that meal...two more recipe posts came out of it!

I started the second half of my blogging Bible study that a couple of you had asked about. I'm learning so much from the girls who are part of that with me!

And...I'm doing some research for a little vacationlet I'm taking with a friend this fall. It cracks me up that when most of my friends begin a sentence with "I'm doing some research," it's for a graduate degree. When I say it...it's all about the travel, baby. All about the travel.

To conclude our time together, here's a bit of trivia for you today. This has been bugging me for some time. Why are the number pads on phones and calculators upside down from one another? As a person who works with calculators all day...and also returns phone calls all day, this can become problematic. I have the potential to either call the wrong person or give someone REALLY bad financial advice! To make my friend Kristin proud...I googled the situation and found a semi-fascinating answer here.

Bits for Sunday, August 2, 2009

If you've not seen the two posts below, you don't know that the little baby I have been waiting…and waiting…and waiting on was finally born this week. A couple of weeks I wrote about my not-so-patient waiting game, and it turns out that was just boot camp for my nine hour pace-n-pray in the hospital on Friday.

I arrived at (a.k.a. moved into) the birthing center Friday about 1 in the afternoon. I had stopped by the Gaither store for a shopping spree/writing brainstorm/giant iced white chocolate mocha dream. I also squeezed in a trip to the nearby Hobby Lobby to breathe its air. Then, armed with a Biggie iced tea and a backpack loaded with my computer and camera stuff, I stepped off the elevator and into a candid-camera trap. Since Liam’s birth three years ago, the hospital added a security entrance between the elevator and the maternity ward. The directions said to ring the doorbell, listen for the click, and open the door.

Problem #1 – two doorbell looking devices. I was afraid one of them might be an alarm in disguise, and I certainly didn’t want to send a multitude of laboring women into distress by pressing the wrong button. I took a guess, pressed a button, heard a click, and pulled on the door. Nothing. Repeated the process about 10 times (literally) and finally heard this little elderly voice calling out to me from the other side of the door, “JUST PULL!” I am!!!!!!! Somehow I finally got the door open and made a joke to the lady about being smarter than the door.

She just stared at me.

Well at least I’m not here to give birth! Not passing on the stupid genes to anyone else!

For the next several hours, I hung out in good old room six, watching contractions on the monitor, checking status updates online, watching TV, watching contractions on the monitor, pushing the portable IV cart for laps in the hallway, sending text updates to my friends, offering random words of encouragement, laughing at Chris when he picked up a little brown cup of “chocolate pudding” off the bedside table only to find it was definitely NOT chocolate pudding, and watching contractions on the monitor.

About mid-afternoon, I moved into praying mode. As the contractions grew closer together and more intense, and as the clock crept closer to midnight, I began to pound on the door of Heaven. I knew that they wanted…they needed this baby to come before midnight. After midnight, it would be August first, and that day was their first baby’s birthday…a day they needed to be reserved just for her memory. The doula and I stood right outside the door to room six, asking God to please extend kindness and mercy to them and allow this baby to come before midnight.

And then we went back inside for the last of the adventure. And that’s when the pacing began. As the nurses and midwife and doula and Chris stayed close to her bed, I stayed close to the cameras, making sure everything was ready when the time came. And during every contraction, I walked slowly back and forth across the room, praying for enough strength to get her to “the next crack in the pavement.” God heard from me quite a bit that evening.

And finally, just after nine, little James made his appearance. I cried…just like I cried for his two big sisters and his big brother. I cried because I realized what an amazing privilege it is to be trusted to be part of such a beautiful and life-changing moment. I cried because I got to witness something that some people never get to see, except for through a TV screen. I cried because the absolute joy that follows such absolute pain is something I never see anywhere else. I cried because God heard the prayers of a pacing girl in room six…and granted mercy and kindness in the time of need.

Just moments after his birth, I got to hold little James and have a chat with him about life at Aunt Bekah’s house. I told him about how much fun he would have when he came to visit the kitties…even though they’d hide from him. I told him to get used to the camera because it isn’t going anywhere.

I’m so glad to have had the opportunity to be on the welcoming committee for little James, and I can’t wait to watch him grow up!

It's August First Again...

I love this little blog and all the friends I've made along the way. I truly do love logging on every day to see what everyone has been up to! As a writer, I know that not everything I say is going to be noteworthy...but I do hope that what you find here either entertains you or educates you or makes you think.

So I'm pretty excited to have received an award from Stephanie whose blog is one of my new reads. I'm enjoying her posts...hop on over and check her out! Anyway, thanks, Stephanie for the award! I have only ever received one other one, so I still haven't prepared the official acceptance speech. :)


I am supposed to tag five blogs, but I truly cannot pick from my family of blogs. You all are superior scribblers to me! TAG!!!!!!

If you haven't seen the post below yet, you might not know that baby James arrived yesterday. My newest "nephew" whose arrival has been forever (it seems) in coming. I ended that post of his little newborn pictures by thanking God that he was able to be born yesterday...

...Because today is his big sister, Carol's birthday.

I'll probably write more about Carol and James tomorrow...but this sweet baby girl was the first birth I'd ever gotten to see. Nine years ago today, she was born, and six months later, God chose to take her back to Heaven with Him. It's something we still don't understand...something we still grieve. And yesterday as I stood in that hospital, just down the hall from where I stood nine years ago to the day, I could still remember that moment when she came into the world, and I cried for her right there in the hospital.

It was important to her parents that she and James get separate birthdays, and boy did we pray hard about that for a few hours yesterday!

So even as I celebrate this sweet baby boy...I remember his sister today.

Sweet Baby James

After all those days and days of being attached to my cell phone...and nesting...and doing my nails...and hauling around a backpack with hospital clothes...and ending every other sentence with "if that's not when the baby comes..."

HE'S HERE!!

Sweet baby James was welcomed at 9:13 tonight. Hours and hours of very painful labor for his mama...hours and hours of pacing and praying (done by yours truly)...but they finally merged and this sweet thing entered our world.

This is me calming Mr. James as I had a frank chat with him about how life isn't fair. (No one should have to get that talk at 45 minutes of age, but he was waiting on his bath and he wasn't really happy about it.)

As soon as I put my hand on his little tummy, he calmed right down. For a minute. Let's focus on that minute, shall we?

Well, my hair did look good. Twelve hours earlier. LOL. Love this picture, though. Love this little guy. I've already told him about the cats at my house and how he'll have to get used to the picture thing because it happens A LOT when Aunt Bekah is in the room.

I don't think he believed me about the pictures. He'll learn.

Striking a pose already. What a GOOD GOOD BOY.

About five minutes after birth. DID NOT like the bright lights. I told him I felt his pain every morning when the alarm went off.

Thank you, Lord, for this precious baby boy!!

And thank you for answering the "big prayer..." Thank you for sending this boy before midnight. You knew how their hearts longed for it to be this day.

Pizza-lets

One of the worst things about being single and having a cooking addiction is...ALL THE FOOD! Most of my recipes make a 9x13 or a whole crock pot - and I eat it for days. My Mom tells me to cut them in half, and sometimes I do, but sometimes it's not easy. Half an egg? Half a can of soup? If I had a spare freezer, I would just freeze leftovers, but I don't have one (yet) so for now I just eat and eat once I make something.

As a result, I'm always excited to find little "meals for one" that don't leave me with leftovers for days on end. This is such a recipe. I actually ate this at church this summer the night I helped with VBS. They served a meal before VBS and someone kindly saved the leftovers for those of us who had been busy with registration during the meal. I played around with it at home and now love making this when I need something quick and easy.

The Recipe
2 hamburger buns
4 tablespoons pizza sauce
20 slices pepperoni
1/2 - 2/4 cup mozzarella cheese

Separate top and bottom of hamburger buns and arrange on baking sheet. Spread one tablespoon of pizza sauce on each bun. Arrange 5 slices of pepperoni on each bun and sprinkle cheese over top. Bake for 10 minutes at 400 degrees.

Another reason I'm excited about this recipe is it gives me a chance to use up the one or two leftover hamburger buns that linger after a round of BBQ or sloppy joes. You could also use leftover bagels - or probably biscuits too. And this is just what I always have on hand. You can certainly switch up the ingredients to include what you like on your pizza!

I don't really measure out the sauce...I just spread a little on the buns. I try not to overdo the sauce - mostly because I'll end up wearing it on my clothes. Not attractive. I use my Pampered Chef Small Bar Pan to cook these - perfect size!!

There is a brand of pepperoni that makes really cute dime-sized pepperoni pieces. They cost more, so I stick with the regular kind, but those little ones would be great for this project!

And there's no such thing as too much cheese, right? So load up!

Lunch! Or snacks for a little party. Very yummy!!!

Bits for Sunday, July 26, 2009

I told you a while back that I’ve taken up running. I was told I would grow to love it. Well…that sort of warm fuzzy feeling has yet to arrive. Granted there are many moments where I feel both warm and fuzzy while out running, but it has more to do with sweat and dehydration than any sort of endearment.

My running time can be, as they say, a “come to Jesus” time. Sometimes I pray for the sick and those in need. Sometimes I pray to make it to the next light pole. It was in one such moment last week that I realized an important truth about my life…maybe about life itself.

I admit to experiencing a moment of anxiety when I enter my running path each day. I look at that stretch of road and think fondly of Snickers bars…caramel frappuccinos…moose tracks ice cream…an assortment of other life-joys that landed me in the place where I need to run at all. I think of all the things I could be doing with that hour of my day. And then I take a deep breath and go.

The first steps are great. I breeze through the first few hundred yards, take in the scenery, do some deep thinking. Then, in just about the same spot every time, my ankles start to ache, I find that oxygen isn’t as plentiful as it was at the start (and unfortunately I cannot blame the elevation, because it didn’t change), and I make the sad discovery that my legs instantly gained 20 pounds each, making them much harder to drag around the path.

It’s at that point that I look at the remaining distance to cover…remember that I have two more rounds of this same thing yet to go…and I want to just curl up in the grass and wait for someone to find me, toss me in a golf cart, and take me home.

Last week, in a moment of that sort of realization, I wanted to just quit running. (In case you didn’t know, I run a while, walk a while, run a while, walk a while.) I wanted to walk the rest of the path, and I wanted to start the switch right then. But I could see that I was just a few parking places away from the spot where I normally switch from running to walking. If I’d run that far, I could run a few more spaces. So I said to myself, “Just make it to that yellow line and you can stop.” And somehow, I did. And after I caught my breath, I started again. And again I said, “Just make it to that crack in the pavement and you can stop.” And I did. And then a few hundred yards later… “Just make it to the fire hydrant and you can stop.” For the rest of my run that night, I made it, cheering myself on to the next crack in the pavement.

It was this same week that I felt overwhelmed in my time with God. I felt like I wasn’t making any progress, I wasn’t learning anything, I wasn’t trying hard enough (and that part was very true!)…and I just wanted to give up. Quit. Eat a Snickers bar. But even while gasping for air on my run, God managed to squeeze in a lesson. He reminded me (rightfully so!) that I approach that relationship in too-big-chunks sometimes. I needed to break it down….make it to the next “crack in the pavement.” Just through tonight’s devotions. Not through the whole next Bible study I’m trying to write. Just through a chapter – maybe even a verse for a few minutes before bed.

So that night, that’s exactly what I did. I sat down with my pile of Bibles, books, and journals, and purposed to get through that night. Just like I didn’t need four miles worth of oxygen to get to the next crack in the pavement, I didn’t need enough spiritual “a-ha” moments to write a best-seller. I just needed enough to last me through my sleep and into the morning (preferably after coffee).

It’s great to have “big picture” focus. That’s what drives us forward. But just as important is making it to the next crack in the pavement.

Pool Party at Last!

I was supposed to go swimming at my friend Faith's on July 4th, but it rained. I was supposed to go swimming at my sister's the following weekend, but it rained. I told our student worker (who had organized a pool party at her house for today) that I would understand if she wanted to cancel my invitation. I might be a weather jinx.

But she said I could still come to the party. Isn't she nice?

Actually I thought it was very nice of her to organize this little party for the girls of the office. Not all the office girls could go, but those of us who did had a very fun time! Rachel's dad grilled for us, and we all pitched in side dishes and desserts.

From the left: Rachel (the hostess with the mostest), Angel, Rachel (holding Anna), me, Robyn.

Sometimes lunch just isn't enough.

Anna, trying out the water with Miss Robyn. She lasted a little while and then she said "Forget it. I want to sleep." Well, she didn't really say it outright like that, but it's what she meant.

Robyn and me...floating on the fun noodle thingies. They were a great invention.

My annual pool photo. It always looks the same. I'm always pasty white, I'm always wearing the same suit...but hey, at least I'm consistent.

Patience is so NOT a Virtue

...at least not one of mine.

Guess what!??!!?! No baby yet! I've decided he's just going to stay in his mama forever. This waiting game is not getting any easier as the days go by....that's for stinkin' sure.

So I guess I'll just catch you up (again) on life in Bekahland.

Wednesday night I went to see The Proposal. Learned a valuable lesson. Do not eat a gigantic bowl of watermelon before going to see the funniest movie ever. I had heard it was a funny movie, but I didn't know it was THAT funny. My goodness! That will be on the must-own list.

Yesterday was our big summer visit day at work. I think they said we had over 400 visitors on campus. I was invited to be a tour guide, since they needed extras for the day. I had a BLAST giving tours. They split up the schedule this year and I actually was able to give two of them. So much fun!

Today I was a judge for the Campus Challenge competition over on campus. (If you're not Wesleyan, you're probably saying... HUH? It's a competition in the denomination that allows students to compete for scholarship money at the Wesleyan schools.) This is my third year to judge - and I did vocals again. I always kind of feel like Paula when I judge the vocals. LOL. But there were some good songs this year! :)

I was quite worried I'd get the baby call during one of those two things, but I did not, so now I'm home free again for a while.

Saying Goodbye...

My friends Nate and Amber are moving...to Hong Kong. Last January they had an impromptu game night at their house, and they rigged one of the games to announce their move. It was impressively creative.

They'll be leaving here in a couple of days, so this past Sunday the church hosted a going away cookout for them. They were gracious to invite me...something I love about those church people!
They didn't toss me out as a friend when I felt God prompting me to go to another church instead.

Here I am with my scrapping buddies, Faith and Sarah.

And here I am with Amber. Since changing churches, I haven't been able to see her as much, but she is still a very dear friend. I remember when her youngest, Isaiah, was a baby, and she would bring him over to my house so she could watch Alias - one of her favorite shows. Since I didn't know much about Alias, I had fun playing with Isaiah and she had fun watching TV! She was also my chick-flick buddy, since Nate wasn't interested in them, and I didn't have a buddy to watch with. We lived not far from each other, and I loved driving past her house on my way to any given place and waving to her...

The cookout was yummy and it was fun to catch up with the church buddies again. Toward the end, a water fight erupted. It began with the tiniest little water balloon and escalated to super soakers, garden hoses, buckets, even coolers! We grown-up girls were the smart ones. We clutched our purses and cameras, wadded up into a huddle and declared it the safe zone because you can't get cameras wet!

I'm so glad I got to be part of the day....these guys were so much fun to see!! (I can say that because I stayed dry...)

Amish Breakfast Casserole

I found this recipe when hunting down easy breakfast recipes for Father's Day this year. I offered to host the holiday for Mom, but I had two problems. One...I had to find something to make that either cooked in around a half hour, since I had church right before lunch OR cooked in the slow-cooker. Two...I had to find something Dad would like, and he is kind of a picky eater, bless his little heart.

After much debate, I settled on a breakfast menu for Father's Day. I made the sticky rolls that are already in the recipe list, served some fruit, and found this alternative to my standard breakfast casserole. This does not REPLACE the other casserole, mind you. It is simply an alternative. Dad actually loved it! I told him I picked it out because it had Amish in the name, and he loves all things Amish.

Last week, I took this to work for the going-away party of my sweet friend Rachel. The work gang cleaned it up. Not even a spoonful left over for me!!

The Recipe:

1 pound ground sausage, browned and drained
1 medium sweet onion, chopped
6 eggs lightly beaten
4 cups frozen shredded hash browns, thawed
2 cups (8 ounces) shredded cheddar cheese
1 1/2 cups (12 ounces) small curd cottage cheese
1 1/4 cups shredded mozzarella cheese

In a large skilled, cook sausage and onion until sausage is browned; drain. In a bowl, combine the remaining ingredients; stir in sausage mixture. Transfer to a greased 9x13 baking dish.

Bake, uncovered at 350 for 35-40 minutes or until set and bubbly. Let stand for 10 minutes before cutting.

You know me...always the rebel. I skipped the chopping of the onion and used dried minced onion. Tasted great...couldn't tell a bit that I'd cheated!


The first time I made this, I browned the sausage the night before, refrigerated it, and dumped it in with the other ingredients the next day. It worked fine. The second time I made it, I actually made the entire casserole the night before, refrigerated it and baked it the next morning. That worked fine too. Both times I skipped out on putting the dried, minced onion in with the sausage. I just dumped it in with the rest of the ingredients and it was fine.

I don't actually own a whisk. This is an attachment that came with one of the dearly departed beaters I used to own. :) Works great!

The best part of the casserole - you can just dump everything in. The sausage, the beaten eggs, and that fabulous onion...

...Topped with the cheddar, the mozzarella, and the cottage cheese. I love cheese....

...Mix it all up. Looks terrible, but trust me. It's worth it!

Put it in the greased baking dish...

...Ta daaaaaaaaaa!!! Tastes so good! Warms over nicely too - if there's any left, that is. But I wouldn't count on it if I were you.

Bits for Sunday, July 19, 2009

This is my 800th post! Hard to believe I've been a blogger that long. I wish the post could have a bit more substance, but enjoy anyway.....


I spent the weekend resting and nesting. My friend Trudy is about to have a baby, and I’m once again scheduled to be there for the birth. Early last week , her doctor said she was certain the baby would be born before Sunday. It is now Sunday and that baby was firmly planted inside Trudy when I saw her earlier today.

While I wait, I’ve cleared my calendar of most activities, leaving me with nothing to do but…rest and nest. I caught up on my scrapping, worked on the house and yard, did all the laundry and dishes…and now I’m sacked out on the couch waiting for the Michael Douglas lifetime achievement special to air on TV Land. (If I owned The American President, I’d have watched it today in honor of the special. That is one of my favorite movies.)

It’s been a long time since I just kicked back and rested. Since I sat on the couch and didn’t feel guilty about it. Since I slept for hours at a time with no interruption – even from the cats. Since I had two days in a row with virtually no plans packing every moment.

I think I kind of like it.

My parents raised me well to rest on Sundays. To take a break from work and build up some extra strength for the week to come. I spent many Sunday afternoons lost in the world of books…occasionally sneaking in a nap…talking on the phone…writing…listening to music...writing letters. And when I went on to college, I took that practice with me.

And now I’m all grown up (a.k.a. getting old) and I still love the day of rest. Sometimes the rest seems awfully busy. Does it ever seem that way to you?

But on a true day of rest, I love to…

• Take a long nap – one that ends in waking up tired from sleeping so long.

• Curl up and watch a movie – while doing NOTHING else. No multi-tasking.

• Do a scrapbook page or seven.

• Read a book…and by read, I mean underline, highlight, and journal about all through the process.

• Look at old scrapbooks.

• Do my nails.

• Catch up on blogs.

• Every now and then, maybe even take a walk that doesn’t involve speeding or sweating.

• Call AT&T to see why my internet crashed again. (Oh wait. That just slipped in there. It’s not really something I love to do.)

You may not be waiting on a baby…but I would like to highly recommend taking a day of rest. Your version of rest might look different from mine, but there’s nothing like that rejuvenation. And of course…the promise that it will come back around in another week!

...Still Waiting!...

No baby yet. I'm still waiting for the call to go to the hospital...and I'm still keeping busy with random chores.

* I mowed and semi-trimmed the yard.

* I went for a run.

* I slept for about ten hours last night, so I'm well-stocked on rest.

* I'm about to have a laundry marathon.

* As soon as the dishwasher finishes its run, I'm going to bake peanut butter cookies and contend with the zucchini-on-steroids I acquired.

* I will prepare for the Sunday School lesson I may or may not be present to teach.

* I guess when all that's done, if I still haven't been called, I'll go back to scrapping!

Meanwhile, here are some pictures from this week. I was an extra in a commercial-type video shoot for our office's website. There will be four separate shoots, and the first two were this past week. I couldn't make it to the afternoon shoot, and I was sad about that. But in the morning...

...our set was the coffee shop. My friend Jonathan served as the barista (or "bartender" as he called it) and my friend Rachel was the customer. She was very patient, since she waited over an hour for a drink he never made! LOL. He did a great job of pretending to make coffee, though. He also did a great job of sending away the five people that wandered through to ask for coffee...apparently oblivious to the large camera and lighting things just a few feet away.

These two girls, Rachel and Maggie, were my pretend-coffee-drinking buddies. We sat at a table behind Brittany (who is standing up in the background) while she read for this part of the shoot. Maggie (in the red shirt) was a fabulous fake-drinker. I just stirred my coffee...which was actually whipped cream in a cup. :)

And this guy right here was the highlight of our experience. He wandered through, asked for coffee (which of course, we didn't have), and then sat down just out of view of the camera. He promptly fell asleep and started snoring so loud that the mic picked him up. So one of the camera guys "tripped" over a chair behind him to wake him up.