Concert!!...Again

Because I didn't get enough of a concert fix in my trip to see Mr. David Phelps last month, I went to another one today. Not to see David this time. (That would have been quite a commute because the entire Gaither crew is overseas right now.)

Anyway, went to see my friend Brent. Brent is from Florida and travels the country singing at churches and camps and things like that. And he is rarely in Indiana, which I find to be very sad. :( I think the last time he was within a couple hour's drive was about 2 1/2 years ago.

So when I found out he was scheduled to be in Hagerstown (which is about an hour and a half from me), I decided to go see him, even though it was a Sunday morning and I normally have very strict rules about missing my own church.

I sat in the third row so I could take pictures. I told him I'm normally the one holding down the back pews...so I might get a nosebleed from sitting so close...

I love Brent's music. He writes a lot of his own songs, and he says in lyrics what I would say if I could trim the writing down to fit in a lyric. And he finds the greatest words, too! One of my current favorites has a line that says, "But now you're wandering the undefined periphery." Periphery is a greatly underused word that is very fun to sing. (In the car. When no one can hear me.)

In other talents...he also plays the piano. Quite well, I might add.

AND he's a ventriloquist. This is his buddy, Sam. Sam is hilarious. I realize he's supposed to be a connecting tool for the kids, but I actually really love Sam. I'm just a big kid.

And here I am with Brent. I've seen him before in concert - 3 times - but never did the picture thing, much to the shock of everyone. But today was picture day.

So the concert was so much fun. I was convinced I'd get lost making my way there, but I didn't (WOO HOOOO!!), and the potluck that followed the concert was great - even if we didn't get there until the very end.

Hangin in There

Well there's only one more day in the work week and I think I'm gonna make it! This week has been a character-builder, but it has been good.

In not-that-interesting-but-I'll-tell-you-anyway news, I dyed my hair this week. Myself. First time I've ever done that all by myself. Let's just say I dyed my hair...myself...my bathroom...maybe even the cats. I had color everywhere. And I seem to have missed a patch in the back. So if you see me, do admire the two-tone hair. :)

Tonight I went shopping for a new shirt. You might remember that prior to the David Phelps concert, I went shopping for a new shirt...only to spend two totally fruitless hours out on the town. Tonight I had sweet success. Two for the price of one, even.

It's the little things.

Ahhh, Cleansing

There is nothing like a good cry (a.k.a. massive meltdown) to cleanse the heart. And the tear ducts.

Here's what I love, though. Amid all the crud that led to the meltdown, I remembered the verse that says "Greater is He that is in you than he that is in the world." And for that, I'm thankful.

Bits for Sunday, October 11, 2009

I have successfully mixed up my days and nights once again! I took a nap this afternoon, woke up about 5:30, and discovered two hours later that the clock in my living room is off by an hour.

With any luck, I’ll make it to bed before it’s time to get up, and I actually will get up somewhat on time.

My Sunday night lineup of shows just hit the airwaves, so perhaps that will help me keep my mind on the correct time. Of course I’m knee deep in editing, so who knows if I’ll even pay attention to said shows?

Earlier this week, I posted something about my latest writing adventure, so this may be somewhat of a repeat for a few of you, but I wanted to share anyway.

I’ve said before that getting published (at least in the history of Bekahland) seems to be about as likely as winning American Idol. It is a tough, long, obstacle-filled road, and I’m not particularly known for patience and strength.

So I’m moving ahead in a different avenue right now. I’m looking into the possibility of self-publishing, which is something that quite frankly scares me to death. How is it that the very things I dream about can be so terrifying all at the same time? I’m not alone in that, I’m sure. Your dream may not be to write, but you surely have a dream. And if you’re honest, something about that dream scares you.

But why not pursue it anyway?

I’m cautious by nature. I would prefer to know the outcome of any given situation before diving into it. The very thought of taking a risk makes me want to throw up. And given that throwing up is about last on my list of things to do…well, you get the idea.

Even so, why not now?

If I think about it long enough and hard enough, I will rationalize my way right out of it. If you don’t believe me, ask me sometime how strawberry bubble gum doubles as a serving of fruit and a coffee bean is definitely a vegetable. Rationalizing is a gift of mine, and while it can sometimes come in very handy, it can also keep me from running after some of my dreams. Okay…any of my dreams.

And so, I move forward with it. I’m praying hard about it, watching in my ever-cautious way to see if God throws out any major stop signs. But while I watch…I go ahead with the work. I crawl through the manuscript, page by page, looking for errors. Looking for ways to improve a sentence. Wondering what people will think when they read the words. Wondering if I said things the way I should have. Wondering how exciting it will be to have the project completed.

You are now up-to-date on the latest in Bekahland. I’ll keep you updated on the progress! And in the meantime, thanks for hanging in there with me each week. I really appreciate your emails and comments. You are an encouraging bunch!

Happy Birthday, Dad!

Today is my Dad's birthday. I think he's 77. I think. Something around there. :)

He's currently preaching at a church without a pastor, and this morning, the church gave him this giant birthday card...that also doubled as a welcome card to my Mom.

(I made him stop for pictures while he was still in his Sunday best.)

The church also gave him a cake. (This is one swell church!)

Mom made him all his favorite artery-clogging foods. :) We do love our meat and carbs in this family.

I made him peanut butter fudge. It's one of his favorite things. He said it was good. I said, "The appropriate response here is THIS IS THE BEST FUDGE I'VE EVER EATEN!"

Dad is impossible to buy for. He only ever wants gift cards. So this year I gave him flower bulbs. I was going to put them in a Victoria's Secret bag (like Mom got on her birthday) but I figured he'd fail to see the humor.

Happy birthday, Dad!!

Tired of Looking at Big Hair

I got tired of opening up my blog and seeing that blessed big hair, so I am writing a new post.

It's not been a very eventful week, which explains my lack of posting...but in addition to lack of eventfulness, I've also been looking at/researching/contemplating/praying about/freaking out about a new project.

A couple of years ago (I think three, to be exact) I wrote a little project that I love so much. I've been trying since then to publish it...and that adventure has yet to be successful. Granted, I could have tried harder. My writing buddy Jody (link on the side) has had an awesome year of writing, complete with a book contract, and I am ecstatic for her. She deserves everything she's been blessed with this year because she worked hard to get there. I, on the other hand, spent quite a bit of time enjoying outings with friends and time in the kitchen and time at work...well, maybe that part wasn't so much enjoyed, but it was necessary. And as a result, the publishing pursuit didn't receive quite the attention it should have.

I've toyed with the idea of self-publishing, but it can be scary to think about. The writing conference I attended last year did not - much to my surprise - put it down. I figured in a room full of agents and editors and publishers, the very idea of doing it yourself would not be encouraged. On the contrary, they said it was a viable option to pursue.

In my prayer time about it, I've not had any giant stop signs from God, so for now I'm moving forward. It is possible that the moving will be fast...and I'm not one to normally love a fast-moving process. I am far too cautious for my own good.

So that's what's going on in Bekahland. I'm home on a miserable (yet perfect) rainy evening, curled up on the couch, eating soup and proofreading at a frenzied pace.

MAMA!

Big Hair Woes

I've been having some hair woes lately, so I feel compelled to share them with you.

Growing up, I was...encouraged...required?...to have long hair. I never knew life apart from long, unruly, tangle-laden hair.

Just in case you don't believe me.....

There it is! Poofy bangs and all!
When I went to college, I went through this whole "discover who I am" thing and ended up slowly chopping off the hair. A couple of years after college I was down to this:

I was trying to look older.

Now I'm trying to look younger, so I'm growing it back out. NOT to the length of the first picture. Actually, I haven't decided how long I'm going to let it get, but it's on its way.

Not quickly enough.

I've only recently exited that horrid "do I keep going or do I chop it off?" phase, and I thought my hair life was improving.

But you see, recently, my hair has grown. Not longer. Bigger.

I reinvested in straightening shampoo and conditioner. I woke up earlier to spend more time with the flat iron. I was up to about a half hour a day. And still, by noon, my hair was a thick, ratty brillo pad. Forget running my fingers through it - I couldn't even get a brush through it.

I was Mia Thermopolis before.

Yesterday, in desperation, I decided to schedule yet another hair-thinning appointment. I just had it thinned 2 months ago, and I knew at this rate, I'd be bald inside of a year, but I didn't know what else to do. I considered chopping it off and declaring myself incapable of long hair. I also toyed with purchasing an even more expensive flat iron to try to bet through it faster.

Then it occurred to me...perhaps my flat iron isn't dying after all. What if maybe the heat setting got turned down by accident? I took a look at it when I got home from work, and sure enough, my heat options range from 1 to 7, and mine was set on about 3.5. Well no stinking wonder!!

This morning I fired up the flat iron and within minutes - smoke and steam rolled off my hair.

SWEET.

I went to hair with nice, smooth, long (now that it's not all shriveled up in a tangle) hair.

Like Mia Thermopolis after.

Bits for Sunday, October 4, 2009

** Pictures in the post below! **

Life has officially returned to normal. I’ve cleaned up the kitchen, pulled out all the card-making supplies, and am currently crying over the reveal of Extreme Makeover Home Edition. Welcome to my Sunday night life. :)

Most of the weekend was not normal. It did not include cooking or cleaning. But it did include an amazing time of learning, laughing, crying, and having fun.

My friend Marie and I went to Fort Wayne to the Extraordinary Women conference. I’d never been to a women’s conference before, but I was looking forward to this one. I was excited about the lineup of speakers, which included Chonda Pierce and Karen Kingsbury.

I have to tell you, interesting things happen when that much estrogen converges upon one location. The conference started Friday evening and then began again early Saturday morning and continued through most of the day. Marie and I went early Saturday to stand in line waiting for the doors to open, because we’d scoped out some good near-the-exit-with-extra-leg-room seats we hoped to land. We weren’t too far back from the doors, and we had our tickets out and ready for viewing because let me just tell you what happens when doors open for women.

Have you ever seen video clips of that bridal store that has the major sale once or twice a year? The running…the trampling…the insanity? It was like that. No orderly lines where you have your ticket checked by an usher as you enter a door. You had to hold that thing up for it to be a blur in his line of vision as you went streaming by in a dead run for the stairs.

Well. At least if you were the other women. Marie and I hustled until we were free from the trampling dangers and then we walked normally. After all, it wasn’t even eight in the morning yet. On a Saturday.

But aside from that, it was a wonderful weekend. It’s a good day when you can kick back in a stadium seat with an overpriced order of nachos and hear four big-name speakers and two concerts.

My favorite speaker of the weekend ended up being Angela Thomas. I’d heard of her before, but I didn’t really know much about her. (After she spoke, Marie and I visited her table, bought a book, and had the chance to meet her. Shortly after that, I stared at my newly acquired and autographed book and said to Marie, “I kind of think I already own this book now that I think about it.” Sure enough, I do! Woops!) Here’s what I loved about Angela: she was the real deal.
She spoke honestly about the good and bad of her life. She shared what she’s learned and what she’s still struggling to figure out. She invited all of us to stand and represent what God had done in our lives, and she giggled with joy at each answer to prayer. She invited us to make a place at the altar and then she walked among those who did, hugging them and praying over them.

Angela left me with more than two copies of the same book (such a Bekah thing to do). She left me with much to think about regarding how I love others. She left me challenged to be more concerned with being real in front of others and less concerned about how they might think of me. (And if you know me well, you know that is a BIG challenge.)

The things I learned (there were more…but I don’t want you to have to read a novel) were well worth nearly getting trampled at 7:30 in the morning. They were worth having my water bottle confiscated. They were worth overpriced concession food. If you ever have the chance to go, you should take it. It’s a huge blessing!

The Fall O Fun Continues...

Normally I don't have two fun weekends in a row. And after last week and the joys of the David Phelps concert...who would have thought I could handle yet more fun??? But I did!

This weekend I went up to Ft. Wayne to the Extraordinary Women Conference at the Coliseum. I'd never been to such an event before, but it was so much fun, and I'm very glad to have had the opportunity to go!

This year's theme was "Free to be Real" - and the speakers had such encouraging and helpful things to say...stuff that we could implement into our lives.

I went with my friend Marie, and we decided to just stay in a hotel up there, since it was a two day event that ended late on Friday and began early on Saturday. We went up a little bit early on Friday to get settled into our hotel room. (This is me eating M&M's while we waited for the festivities to begin.)

This is how our hotel looked at SIX FORTY EIGHT ON A SATURDAY MORNING - the time we crawled into the car to head to the Coliseum in hopes of getting the seats we'd scoped out the night before. And here's a shout out to the loud boys of the bachelor party who arrived home at 3:59 in the morning.

Kind of felt like I was on a cruise...the bathroom had all sorts of towel creations. A shower caddy...a bow tie...very cute.

We decided that the bath mat was definitely not worth the $12.00, so we just left it.

The great water bottle drama of 2009. This was in the side of my backpack Friday night, and as I went through the turnstile, with women threatening to trample me from behind, the usher snatched it out of my bag and informed me I could not take it inside. It took me a good ten minutes after it was over to track this thing back down. They'd said they'd "hold" it for me. Do you know where it was, according to the second usher I asked? "Over there on the floor under the arena sign." Are you KIDDING ME????

Friday night opened with Al Denson leading the Praise Band. I've heard some of his songs on the radio and have always liked his music, but I'd never heard him in person before. I thought he did a great job - and I was so very impressed with his character. He went out of his way to do little things to uplift others, and I really appreciated that about him.

After praise and worship, Chonda Pierce spoke. I've heard her before on TV and DVD's, but I'd never heard her live. I laughed until I cried. She is absolutely hysterical. Great way to open the event, I thought.

The last event Friday evening was a concert by Matthew West. I'd heard him on the radio too, but I'd never seen him in concert. I wasn't sure how I was going to feel about it because I didn't know his music very well, I didn't think. Well, he must have used all the songs they play on the radio because I knew all but a couple. I enjoyed the concert, but the ladies sitting in our row asked us to let them out because "it's just not our kind of music."

I tried to get a shot of the crowd, but it wasn't very light in the room. The floor was full and the entire lower section of the arena was full. By the end of today, there were women in the upper section as well.

Saturday started with more praise and worship, and then Karen Kingsbury spoke. I've only read a couple of her books, but I really enjoyed them, and I know she is quite popular in the fiction crowd! Everyone was snapping pictures of her like crazy.

My most favorite, favorite, favorite speaker of the entire event was Angela Thomas. I had heard of her before today, but I'd never read any of her books, nor had I heard her speak. I absolutely loved her spirit. What a sweet woman! Marie and I were both in tears.

We had a lunch break right after Angela's session, so Marie and I went down to the bookstore area and purchased one of her books to study together. We also had the chance to meet her. Such a gracious and loving lady!

After lunch, Mandisa gave a concert. I remember her from American Idol, but I'd never seen her live. She has so much energy and was a fun concert!

The last speaker of the day was Stormie Omartian, whose books on prayer I absolutely love.

Now I'm home and exhausted, but so very glad I went. I'm just going to take a quick little cat nap and then head to the store to have the pictures developed so I can scrap scrap scrap them! :)

SHOUT OUT to Comet Tennis

Well I have four days down in the week-o-busyness. I wouldn't be writing now...I'd be mowing...except I was blissfully saved by rain. That's the good news. The bad news is I might be evicted for too-tall-grass if I can't mow soon!!

I don't want to disappoint Phats, so I want to be sure to give a shout out to Comet Tennis. I went to a match yesterday before church, so I could see my friend Megan play and my friend Phats coach. He said if Megan won, I should have to do a backflip.

She won.

Too bad you missed the backflip, Phats! ;)

Two Days Down...

This is one of those weeks when I'm praying my way through each day. Not that it's a bad week. It's actually a fun one! But it's so blessed busy!

I did a fairly stupid thing Monday evening and went for my walk out in the rather chilly wind. I could have gone to the gym. I should have gone to the gym. But I walked outside instead, and when I think about how little rest I'll be getting this week, I worry that the combination will land me in the sick-house. No time for that!

Last night some friends came over for dinner. The friends with my little kiddos. I just love those guys. I got to hold the baby, who is so much bigger than the last time I saw him. When they brought him in, I said, "Oooh he's got a double chin now!" I'm not nearly so excited about my own double chin. :)

So I fed the baby and snuggled with him. He's a good little snuggler. And I listened to Liam proclaim that the reason he couldn't finish his dinner was because he was allergic to all the food. He's 3. Where does he come up with this stuff? And Savannah made me an entire "dinner" out of orange copy paper. She cut out all the dishes and the food - and I have to say, the food looked like what she said it was supposed to be! My favorite part was when she came running to me with the food, announcing, "Hi, I'm your waitress!" She put the food down in front of me, looked over the spread, and said, "Oops, I must have dropped something. Hang on!" She disappeared for a moment, and then I heard, "Corn! Coming right up!" So that's what really goes on when I don't get everything I order at a restaurant.

So now I'm on to the next day (provided I ever actually stop typing and start doing the hair). Much to do today as well. Happy Wednesday to you!

Bits for Sunday, September 27, 2009

If you haven’t had the (mis)fortune of seeing me in the last 12 hours…or you haven’t read the post below in that amount of time, you might not know one very key piece of information: I got to see David Phelps in concert last night!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yes, that was an overuse of exclamation points. No, I do not care.

I don’t remember who first told me that David would be in Wabash, but once I heard, I think I heard from no less than a couple dozen people. I really do appreciate how people keep up on my celebrity preferences and allow me to participate anytime an opportunity presents itself. At first I didn’t think I’d go. I know… such words shock the soul. But I figured I’d be busy or it would be expensive or whatever. And then I said, “REBEKAH! This is DAVID PHELPS. Get yourself online and buy tickets.” So I did.

Second row.

Then I started worrying about my tickets in the event of a fire. I prayed over the safety of those tickets – and don’t you even think I’m kidding. I bought a new outfit for the occasion – which you read about a couple of weeks ago, come to think of it. Friday night when I came home from work, I tried it on and hated it. Had no idea why I bought it. So I went shopping for a new one. Two hours later, I came home empty-handed. After the Friday I had, I’m not sure what made me think there would be anything successful about a shopping trip. So I dug through my closet, found an ensemble, and declared it good enough. (Good enough…those words are part of one of David’s songs….but I digress.)

So the day of the concert came and I was a chatty Cathy nervous wreck. I didn’t eat much, I forgot to drink much – which was good, since that only leads to bathroom breaks, and who has time when David Phelps is in concert?

My patient and very wonderful concert buddy, Ronda, and I arrived in plenty of time to scope out our great seats, which were even better than I thought they would be. They raised the orchestra pit and put three rows of seats there. So we were in front of the actual front row. Bring it ON!!

The concert was nothing short of amazing, as I knew it would be. He hit all his high notes and I sang (inside…I hope) with his background vocals and took fuzzy pictures and squealed upon occasion. I won’t lie. After it was over, I stood in line to meet him, and I was so busy telling stories to Ronda that I forgot to prepare a speech. That could have been disastrous, given my track record with such moments, but I managed to stay fairly stupid instead of incredibly stupid, so I was pleased.

Oh, and did I mention we had our picture taken together? Let me know if you’d like an 8x10. (Dad, Mom declined my earlier offer, but if you’d like one for the house…say maybe over the fireplace?...just let me know, okay?)

I came home, and I’m not sure if it was the concert or the 32 ounce coke I drank on the way home (at 11 pm) that got me, but I was still awake and bouncing off the walls at 2. Woops.
I tell you all of that because this is my story and I can, but I also tell you because I want you to know that when I wrote in my prayer journal last night, I told God I was super sorry for all my ridiculousness, but I was very thankful for the opportunity to have such a fun night.

I have friends who don’t have jobs. I talk to parents every day who have no idea how they’re going to pay for college – or maybe even the electric bill. I read blogs about people my age who have serious illnesses – or their kids have serious illnesses – that totally consume every moment of their lives.

Those sorts of things don’t leave my mind very often and when I’m able to dress up (even if it’s in the Plan B outfit) and hop in the car with a good friend and have a complete blast on the second row of a concert, I’m very thankful. I try to savor every moment because my turn could be coming. The day when my life will be consumed by something else, and if that moment does come, I want to be able to say I enjoyed the great moments to the fullest when I had the opportunity.

(For more of my concert experience, please scroll down....)

I Interrupt My Normal Classy Posts...

Because there are many (okay, perhaps a few) of you who read my blog that don't know me in real life, I try really hard to maintain a certain amount of class and dignity in what I post here.

All that is about to fly out the window.

Because you see...

...tonight...

...this was on my schedule:


I read a lot of blogs written by people who are die-hard, "SHUT UP!!!" David Crowder fans. I am such a fan about David Phelps. HUGE, HUGE fan. I get ridiculous when his songs come on the radio. I know them all by heart - including the parts for the background vocalists. Anyway, so I've been a mess all day long. SO excited.

This is my friend Ronda, who graciously agreed to be my concert buddy. I have warned her for weeks on end that I am RIDICULOUS. She still said she wanted to go, and boy am I glad she did. I don't think anyone else could have put up with me.

Did I mention the seats were SECOND ROW?? And did I mention that the second row was in the raised orchestra pit?? I knew the seats were going to be good. I did not know they were going to be THAT good. We were totally in the spit zone.

We were not allowed to use flash for pictures, so all of mine are blurry, but I don't care. They are scrappable and that is all that matters! :) He did great songs. Not that he has bad ones. But I was super excited!

And the crowning moment.......

I have a rather horrible track record of making a perfect idiot of myself in situations like this, and I have to say on the grand scale of Bekah-meeting-singers, this was one of my better ones. Not a stunningly graceful encounter, but better than some of the stuttering, sweat-filled miserable chats I've had in the past.

And I'm just glad to have something to replace the six year old picture we had taken at the last concert I went to. In those days, I had super short blonde hair.

Pumpkin Cookies

Though we may not want to admit it, fall is here, so I thought it was time to break out a good old fall recipe. Last Sunday I decided to get out all the fall decorations and give the house a mini-makeover. To get in the spirit, I fixed some chai and made a batch of these cookies. The house smelled so good and I was all ready for the leaves and Indian corn and fake pumpkins.

I got this recipe a couple of years ago from my good friend Rachel, who worked in my office until just recently. She is an amazing cook. I miss her on office carry-in days! (Well, I miss her every day, but I miss her cooking on the carry-in days.) When she brought this to work, she promised it was very easy to make, and she wasn't kidding. Our only disagreement lies in the very end of the cookie. Her recipe says "sprinkle powdered sugar on top of cookie when cool."

I'm sorry...what? Did you mean slather with cream cheese frosting? Yes, I thought so.

The Recipe

1 yellow cake mix
2 eggs
1/3 cup of flour
1/4 cup of oil
3/4 can of pumpkin
2 teaspoons pumpkin pie spice

Mix all ingredients and drop by teaspoonful on greased baking sheet. Bake for 10 minutes at 350.

I found out from my Mom that apparently pumpkin comes in multiple can sizes. The size can you need for this is the one that's about the size of the soup can. (See, when you shop at Aldis, you don't get choices like multiple sizes of pumpkin cans.)


I mix together the cake mix, flour, oil, and eggs first.

It becomes a very thick consistency.

Then I add the pumpkin and the pumpkin pie spice. My mom thought it was "too" spicy, but I don't agree. I guess if you're not used to extra kick, use a little bit less spice?

It will resemble a very thick cake batter. It will be gooier (is that a word?) than a normal cookie dough.

Make sure you grease the pan! The cookies will stick if you don't.

They really don't look much different when they come out of the oven.

I usually get close to four dozen cookies with this recipe. And of course - you can "sprinkle with the powdered sugar" OR YOU CAN SLATHER ON THE FROSTING! Not that I would try to persuade you in any certain direction....

I Am Not Clair Huxtable

I'm watching the Cosby Show right now - the one where Denise makes a shirt for Theo's date - and it doesn't even resemble a shirt when she's done. I feel her pain. That's how my sewing would look. After my last curtain making project, I may never sew again.

Anyway, I love Clair. Minus the whole lawyer thing (which I have no desire to be, thank the Lord, since I'm definitely not smart enough), I think Clair is the perfect wife and mom. Perfect in a totally unattainable sort of way, you understand. Running around in her little suits and heels, fixing dinner and living in an impeccably clean house, always smiling and laughing, and never failing to have time to dance with Cliff after the kids have gone to bed. Clearly there were no cats in the Huxtable household. You're never without an audience when you have cats.

Today I feel about as far from Clair as you can get.

Today was a HUGE day at work. I had a massive project to complete, and I went in armed with coffee and the realization that I would get nothing done today except the project. No voicemails. No emails. No appointments. Just the project.

Of course it wasn't done by quitting time, so I had to stay after. I drank lukewarm tea and scarfed down a piece of ham out of a baggie (that my mother sent to me today from her leftover collection) for dinner. Clair would have remembered to pack dinner - or she would have ordered in. I sported sunglasses on my head even after 8 p.m. when the sun had no hope of returning. Clair would never be caught with sunglasses on her head. I almost forgot to tuck in my wrinkled polo when I took a bathroom break - but then I remembered I was not at home and some sense of credibility should be maintained. Because, you know, that's what Clair would do.

And when I finally came strolling in the door 4 hours after the work day ended, I had to drag out all the cooking stuff because we have a carry-in at work tomorrow, and I signed up to bring cookies. Clair would still be wearing her heels for such an occasion, but I never even put any of those on today, so forget that.

I am not Clair. But doggone it, I did put in a good day's work, and the cookies are fabulous!

Look What I Did!

Saturday was PAINTING DAY!!


It took just about eight hours to do all the painting, and I am thrilled to call this project DONE.
I didn't expect to be painting Saturday. This weekend was supposed to be our church's retreat weekend, but they had to cancel it, so I painted instead. I really don't know when I would have had time to do it (that might also coincide with good weather), so I'm thankful I had the chance on Saturday!

Sunday I made pumpkin cookies and a nice cup of chai and decorated the inside of the house...I can now officially welcome fall. :)

Bits for Sunday, September 20, 2009

**Today's post goes along with the two below it. **

This past Friday marked 21 years since my nephew was stillborn. I always remember him…remember that day…on his birthday, but this year I wanted to do something extra special because it was a big year. One of my friends designs and etches monuments, so I asked her to make a “little something” for his grave. I asked her to use the words This is what it means to be held from Natalie Grant’s song, and she did a beautiful job on a little granite heart.

So after work Friday evening, I packed up the car with my journal, my scrapbook, the little heart, my camera (of course) and a beach towel (yes, you read that right) and I drove to the cemetery. I didn’t really care who might see a girl on a beach towel and wonder if she’d lost her mind…I just wanted to go spend some time remembering.

I won’t spill everything I wrote to him, but here are some parts of it:

Hey Buddy. I think I would have called you Buddy. I can’t believe You have been gone 21 years. Or maybe I just can’t believe how much I still remember every second of that day.

This day is beautiful. The sun is out and it’s warm, and I can hear crickets. The day you died wasn’t like this one…damp and chilly.

I remember sitting in that waiting room, giddy with the excitement of meeting you for the first time – not even knowing that in those very moments, you were meeting Jesus for the first time.

And a little while later they came in and told us they “lost” you. I didn’t understand that. How could they LOSE you? You were a baby, not a set of keys.

And then I knew. And I knew I should cry, but I couldn’t. I tried so hard, but I couldn’t do it. Boy what a switch from today. Today I couldn’t stop. Today I just kept remembering the moment I held you. I just stared at you. No idea what to think. You were big baby – at least an armful for a ten year old aunt.

I remember your funeral and how my face never stopped looking leprous because of all the crying – because by that time I really did understand what had happened.

We sang… “hold us who wait before Thee…near to the heart of God.”

A few years ago, someone else wrote a song about being held… “This is what it means to be held…how it feels when the sacred is torn from your life…and you survive…This is what it is to be loved…and to know that the promise was when everything fell..we’d be held.”

I think of you every time and I cry because it’s true. This is what it means to be held.

I had that phrase engraved and I’m leaving it here today. Because you are held – every day – by the same One Who holds me. You just see Him more clearly.

I miss you, Buddy. I would have loved life with you in it.

The first time I came out here, I tugged on Mom’s skirt because I was confused and I needed answers. The funeral guy told me to leave her alone. Now I’m here alone – still confused – but no one to ask, and no one to tell me to stop.

You should know that I’m quirky. I wore a pink shirt and jeans tonight to come here, because I was wearing pink on my shirt and a denim skirt when I first held you that day. Yes, this quirky charm of mine would have either amused or annoyed you – but I thought you should know.

I am talking in circles and I should probably go. I’ve watched way too much CSI and SVU (everything in my life is an acronym) and being alone in a cemetery is starting to get the best of me.

Anyway, Buddy, I miss you. I miss you, I love you, and I want you to know you are never ever forgotten. Not for a second.

Thanks for making me an aunt. You still hold that record, you know. I miss you, but I’m glad to know you’re safely held.

21...Part Two

It was important to me to go visit Kirk's grave tonight. I wanted to spend some time at the cemetery just journaling and remembering.

The sun was beating right down on his grave when I got there...so I spread out my beach towel and went to work writing him a letter. And yes, I realize I am probably the only person to take a beach towel to a cemetery.

I was a mess today. Cried on and off all day at work (not that this should shock anyone in my office). I admit I became a little irritated with people wanting to haggle over a few dollars when I (still) felt like my world was crashing in. It felt good to be able to just sit and write - uninterrupted.

A special thanks to Alminnie - the mysterious woman next to Kirk who died 106 years ago. i borrowed her tombstone for a camera tripod. :)


Kirk's whole name is Geoffrey Kirk. A woman at my church told me a few weeks ago that she still remembered her son coming home from college for Geoffrey's funeral. Since, when spoken, Geoffrey sounds remarkably like Jeffrey, I was very confused. My brother-in-law had a funeral? How did I miss that? Ahhhh....GEOFFREY! Got it.

Not only did I take a beach towel, I used it! I took along my scrapbook of Kirk to look at while I was there.

I wanted something extra special to take to his grave this year. I didn't want anything that would rot or deflate or blow away....

...so my friend Amber (Hershey traveling buddy?) etched this for me. It's a granite heart and the words are from Natalie Grant's song Held. It looked perfect on his grave. Thanks, Amber, for doing such a wonderful job.

21 years

No one makes a sound in the surgical waiting room. The sun hasn't come up yet, and I am squirming on the couch. No one in my family is talking.

I don't understand.

We came here because my sister is having a baby. That's a happy reason, right? So why is everybody just sitting and staring?...

...A man is walking in now. He doesn't look happy. Maybe he's tired....

..."Lori's fine, but we lost the baby...."


...Who is this man? What does he mean, "Lost the baby?" How can you lose a baby?...

...No! I understand now!

No! They lost the baby! The baby died.

NO, NO, NO!

The man is leaving. Where is he going? He can't just come in here, tell us our baby died, and leave. Come back here!...

21 years doesn't make it hurt any less. I miss him. I so often wonder what it would have been like to have known him. To be calling him on his birthday instead of ordering something to leave at his grave.

And yet, through every tear, I know those words are true: This is what it means to be held.

Hello, Fall!

I can't believe fall has started so early. I guess it isn't really early...since it's over halfway through September...but what I see outside seems like October to me!

Just in case you're reading from a non-fall location, take a look at some of our sights:

I love it when some trees are turning and some aren't....

Fields turning golden....

Just a hint of red....

Here's What I Love

Many things, really...but this was today's boost. I LOVE having the students back on campus. Yes, I have to park a little father out. (Okay, sometimes in Minnesota...) Yes, it does make the day busier. Yes, it does make me worry about getting sick, since the germs multiply significantly. But it's so worth it.

Today three of them stopped by just to say hi. They didn't have any questions. They just popped in. They just brought smiles and stories and reminded me that I am capable of being more than just the answer machine. :)

I ran into a couple more while making my way through the parking lot, and it was so great to see their faces, hear about their days, and make plans to catch up later.

I have been blessed with a great group of students who are more than a file. They are such fun people with promising futures. I am there to answer their questions and help take the scare out of the money world, but I love it when they open up about life. I've had students bring in their wedding albums...pictures of their kids...cups of coffee...bags of M&Ms...you name it. They tell me about their ministries and classes and weekend plans...and those are the moments I love most.

So that's what I love today! :)

Bits for Sunday, September 13, 2009

Yesterday I went clothes shopping. It’s truly not my favorite thing to do. But I have a couple of concerts coming up, and I needed new options. I said that to my Dad a while back, and he said, “Why does it matter? They haven’t seen your clothes anyway.”

Dad’s a guy. I expect as much.

Then I said the same thing to Mom and she said, “Why do you need new clothes? They haven’t seen what you have now.”

MOM!!!!!!!

So I went in search of concert clothing. And sales. And new black work pants that do NOT double as a magnet for cat hair.

I went shopping in Kokomo, which still has some of my favorite stores. My first stop was Fashion Bug. I love Fashion Bug. And the Marion one closed…leaving me crippled in clothing choices. But yesterday was my lucky day. Armed with a coupon, I strolled into Fashion Bug…

…just in time for their annual fashion show. Bored-looking dads and boyfriends loitered beside the main aisle while doting moms and understanding friends stood poised with cameras. A line of girls cluttered up the cash register area while the store manager announced what they were wearing. They pranced down the main aisle and scurried back into the dressing rooms (all of them occupied with this thing) for a wardrobe change. Shoppers were encouraged to applaud and asked to keep the aisles clear.

Are you KIDDING me? I drove over here to shop and I have to keep the aisle clear so Kokomo’s Next Top Model contestants can parade through the path? No worries. I can shop on the side aisles.

Except there was a tiny problem.

Everything was marked plus size. I thought perhaps they’d swapped the sides of the store. Always before, I shopped on the left side of the store. But if I’ve learned anything from Wal Mart, it’s that change is good, so why wouldn’t my stuff be on the right side of the store now? So I slid across the aisle, carefully watching the models-to-be so as not to clutter their path, and again…all the signs said plus.

WHERE ARE MY CLOTHES?

That’s when I learned they’re all mixed in together. 6 to 30 all in a row. No problem. I can handle that. Takes some adjustment, but I can do it. And I had plenty of time because they were only on the first round of the latest and greatest fashion over there on the runway.

About that time, I got the phone call that my friend Kari was home and ready for me to come over for our belated birthday fest. I scrambled to get out of the store between rounds one and two, and I went back a few hours later, after an afternoon of birthday fun. I went in prepared this time…prepared and in search of concert clothing and black pants.

And that is when life got comical.

I found a whole row of black pants. The tags had yellow squares, red triangles, or blue circles. I vaguely remembered reading about the “new line” of clothing, so I thought it might be worth checking out. The sign said yellow was straight, red was slightly curvy, and blue was ultra curvy. I picked red. Then I started looking at sizes. They went from one to eight. Seriously!? One to eight? Why odd numbers? Why stop at eight?

I finally concluded this must be their own sizing system, and I set about to find some comparison chart that would tell me what I really am. What I found were instructions to take a measuring tape and measure my waist. Okay, well first of all, how did I manage to forget to take my measuring tape shopping with me? (Insert eyeroll here.) And secondly, I go to great lengths to NOT know any measurements about myself, so how should I know?

There was a chart that gave waist measurements in comparison to this mysterious sizing thing, so I picked three sizes that I thought might be close and headed to the fitting room.

I took the first pair off the hanger and blasted a huge laugh right out loud there in the fitting room. You ever notice how stores fold in the waists of pants and skirts to make them all look like a size six from the hanger? Well this one unfolded…and unfolded…and unfolded. That thing was like the “before” pair of pants from a weight loss picture. I just stood there, cracking up and not even caring what the lady down the way thought, because she was on her cell phone, and I already thought she was weird.

Out of sheer curiosity, I came home and measured my waist. I’d guessed NINE INCHES too big.

Woops!

After consulting the Fashion Bug website, I learned that this particular line of clothing is all plus size clothing. That might explain my troubles. And wouldn’t you know – that is the ONE rack of clothing that did not say plus. Sigh. Come on, Fashion Bug! Meet me halfway!

I did, however, find pants that I hope will be non-magnetic for cat hair. And a very cute shirt for one of the concerts. Sweet.