The Saturday Six

One.

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I cherish the friends I have made through blogging, and one of them is Karen. I don't even remember now how I stumbled upon her original blog, but what cemented my draw to her was that she grieved the loss of her little one {you know how tender my heart is toward infant loss}...whose name was Rebekah Joy - just like mine. Karen has a new blog now, and we've remained friends over these years....and this past week, she shared her heart about her loss of her Rebekah Joy. I wanted you to meet this little baby whose life is precious and who shares my name.

Two.

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Maybe not all of you are writers, but even if you're not, I have a feeling you can find something that makes sense in your heart from this post by Emily Freeman. Because sometimes the prospect of doing something that will dig up your heart is just plain scary.

Three.

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I stumbled upon this article this week by fiction writer Cynthia Ruchti. I realize probably most of you who read are not authors, but if you are - or if you ever have a chance to do a radio interview at all - READ THIS!!! She nailed every important thing I think anyone needs to know regarding giving a good interview. Former producer, standing to applaud.

Four.

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Since it appears God must want us to stay in our humble home for the time being, I'm always on the lookout for things to make it a little more streamlined. Recent dream? Have a real guest room. For the first two years of our marriage, there was only one bed in our whole home, and it was ours. Last year, as you might remember, we bought our couch we love so much...Mo...and it pops up into a queen size bed, giving us a place to put two more people. That's come in handy this year with visitors! But I still dream of making one of our bedrooms int a guest room. Problem: it's so small, even a double bed would take up WAY too much of the space, especially considering for the bulk of the time, we would not be using the bed. Enter THIS gem from IKEA...which I think would solve every problem. Extra seating when not needed for a bed, but provides a bed for one or two: YES PLEASE. I shall now start saving my pennies. 

Five.

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Maybe you saw this post already, but if not, and if you have an area of your life where Satan seems to have you locked up...read this. Beth is talking specifically to those praying to be released from food-related strongholds, but the prayers written within here can fly across the board to so many things. I have a feeling I'll need to refer to this one frequently. 

Six.

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I am hooked on small town life these days. I don't know why; I'm sure it's a phase that will pass. But since I don't live in the small town Mayberry atmosphere, I sure do love it when I have the chance to read about life in such a place, and my latest read, Murder at the Courthouse by A.H. Gabhart satisfied my thirst for another spin through small town USA.

A.H. Gabhart is Ann Gabhart, and her name was familiar to me from my days at the station, but I'd not read her books before. She sure pulled me in with this one! Here's what I liked about it: it had enough whodunnit in it to satisfy my inner Criminal Minds loving self, but the story wasn't presented in such a scary way that I jumped a mile every time the house creaked while I read. It had enough small town in it to make me diagnose the characters in the vein of the Andy Griffith show...clear down to a Barney and an Emma Brand...but the town wasn't so hokey that it annoyed me. And it had just the perfect touch of romance. Not heavy, but not missing.

The book is set in Hidden Springs, Kentucky, population 732...or it had been until the morning Miss Willadean Dearmon found a body murdered on the courthouse steps, smack in the middle of town.  How in the world a complete stranger ended up dead in the middle of town in broad daylight was befuddling at best, but that was the exact situation Deputy Sheriff Michael Keane found himself in after Miss Willadean marched into his office to file a complaint about the man on the courthouse steps.

Michael works his way through the town, from the trouble-making teen to the nosy newspaper reporter to the barber who knows everything about everyone, and even down the memory lane of his own past...or as much of it as he can remember, after an accident when he was a teenager left him with gaping holes in his mental history. The dots are there...he just has to figure out how to connect them and put this small town back in a peaceful state of mind again.

I learned at the end, that there will be a book two in this Hidden Springs Mystery Series, and I'm excited. I love this little town and think I would love living there, even if the only house for sale was next to the busybody Miss Willadean!

This is a fun read with an exciting amount of suspense and some awfully lovable townsfolk.

* Special thanks to Revell for sending a book my way in exchange for a review. Opinions are my own! * 

Birthday Dinner

So you know you're a grown up when....your kids give you faucets for your birthday.

And you like it!

My parents' birthdays are a month apart, and this year, my sisters and I went together and upgraded their whole kitchen faucet system. Main faucet/sprayer/soap dispenser/drinking water faucet. And of course, this came with free installation.

And by free, I mean Ryan.

I made breakfast for dinner and joined the party for the big birthday bash last night.

First, may I tempt you with dinner? Amish breakfast casserole and homemade chocolate glazed donuts.

With birthday candles, of course, because they were the "cake" of the party...

Dinner was DE-lish {not to toot my own horn} and then Ryan got busy with his toolboxes and started replacing all the plumbing.

Training session. In case it was the first time they'd seen faucets. :)

It went remarkably well - MUCH better than the last plumbing story at their house!

Annnnnd....done!!!

While Ryan worked, Mom and I got caught up on pictures and writing projects and Christmas list ideas...and I took a brief time out to be helper girl extraordinaire.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MOM AND DAD!! Glad you liked your now-I'm-a-grownup gift. :)

PS - I can't remember...did I tell you guys the story of the last plumbing adventure at their house? Because if I did not, boyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy do I ever have a story for you. {Hint: it included a toilet.}

So We Had This Photo Shoot...

Every year in the fall {how I love being far enough down the marriage road to make declarations like that!}, Ryan and I have a photo shoot. It's partly for the love of Christmas cards and partly to commemorate another season about to wrap up in the story of our marriage.

So with Christmas cards fully designed and ordered {and therefore with the knowledge of what pictures need to be kept secret for its great unveiling}, I thought I would show you some of the other fun we had during our photo shoots!

Ryan's mom took the first half of our pictures, but we did a second round with the tripod a few days later, just for funsies. Hope you enjoy our fun and occasional dorkiness!

Hope you enjoyed that last one especially. Ryan lost his balance trying to kiss me and head bonked me instead. LOL!!!!

We almost used it as the main photo for our cards. But then...you know...we didn't.

Fellowship

Kids have told us we have a boring house.

I have no idea why they say this. Surely it's not because we turn into Frank and Marie Barone, covering Mo in blankets before meals. Surely it's not the lack of ANY toys or gaming systems. Surely it's not the chorus of "No no, don't touch" sung by both parents as kids wander through the rooms looking for anything interesting.

Surely not.

Ahhhhh who are we kidding? We are boring non-parents, begging our friends to bring along an activity bag for their poor kids who are subjected to nothing but a hostile cat and her discarded toys for an evening of fun.

Despite that, we love having friends over and wish we had time in our schedule to do it more often. And this week, we were reminded of why we love company so much.

Last week I set up a photo booth in our pirogi, and Ryan's mom came over to take our pictures. It's an annual practice...fall pictures around the time of our engagement. I so loved the way the photo booth turned out, I wanted to invite the whole city to come over for pictures in the pirogi.

{Or at least those whose last names begin with S. Just kidding. We had an alternative wreath plan.}

On a whim, I called some friends...some new friends we just made at church. A family of six, which meant an entourage of four very potentially bored children. But I thought they might want a photo shoot...even though their last name didn't begin with S.

Much to my delight, they were eager for a photo shoot, and I braved asking if they might want to stay for dinner. Nothing fancy. Totally kid-friendly. Grilled hot dogs and s'mores at the fire pit for dessert.

They. Said. Yes.

And so we got ready! We set up the photo booth for a non-S family....

We watered the flowers to perk them up...and rearranged all the pumpkins...

Ryan started the grill...

...and we had a photo party. I climbed around on ladders and zoomed in and out...Ryan held tree branches out of my way and arranged kids in front of parents so I could snap memories.

They were great to photograph: no blinkers, big smiles, and non-protesting kids.

And that was just the beginning. Because after the photo fun, it was dinner time. Hot dogs and chips and fruit...

And a fire for s'mores...

And we had fun. So. Much. Fun.

We chased paper plates and napkins around the yard. We sat on straw bales and told stories. We caught marshmallows on fire and sipped coffee in the waning sunlight.

Kids piled on the hammock to talk and swing. They tried to see Braeya, but she was up to her hissing tricks, so that wasn't as much fun as any of us hoped.

But the night was lovely. New friendships formed, fellowship underway, and the promise of much more to come.

Ahhh fall. How I love the friendships you forge.

The Heart of the Half

Thanks for all the kind comments yesterday after the 5K recap! :) We appreciate the love.

And to address Christina's comment about how we looked after the race, allow me to fully assure you we looked so much better than we smelled. I was vile. Couldn't wait to get home and shower! But the only thing that saved us for decent pictures post-race was the cool morning. Trust me. If it had been the same as some of our training days this summer, we would have been soaked and bedraggled looking. Thankfully the blog doesn't translate smell, so you escaped the worst of it!

In the early weeks of training for this race...back when we thought it was going to be a half marathon, rather than a 5K, I focused so hard on praying my way through each run. Not just praying to survive it, although that too...but praying for the people in Haiti who were the focus of the race.

{If you're late to the race story party, the entry fees for this particular race went to support medical costs in Haiti. That was the main reason I wanted to run this race at all: after my surgery earlier this year, I was convicted at how "easy" it had been for me to receive the care I needed, from emergency rooms to doctors to the hospital for surgery itself. Granted...there were many headaches and blog-worthy stories along the way, but I still didn't have to fight receiving the care...just the details of the process. I wanted to offer something that would allow others to have a chance like I had a chance.}

So on those early training runs...as I went along, I prayed for those people. I prayed for the ones who were sick and hurting like I had hurt back in January. I prayed for those who had to walk 3, 6, 9, 13...even longer...stretches of miles while in pain, just to receive care.

I prayed for those who were planning for babies and in need of care for themselves and their little ones. I prayed verses over these people I don't know. I prayed as my knees ached and I knew they faced aches much more serious.

And I thought when it came time to run the race, the race itself would be labored with prayer in much the same way. I thought I would plod along the path and burden myself with the stories I imagined they lived, and I would spend that race crying out in prayer for them.

I did not. It was the thing that surprised me most about the race.


When I got there that morning, the day felt like celebration. It was, as you saw yesterday, a beautiful day. The sun shone, the air was crisp,  and the sky was clear and blue. Other than being 100% decaffeinated, there was nothing to cast a shadow over that morning. I lined up with the other participants, who were all there for various reasons and chasing various goals...and I had none.

When they yelled start!! I dashed across the line and just ran. I didn't check my phone one single time to see how fast or slow I was going. I didn't think about the path in front of me. I just relied on the volunteers with their arrows to point me in the right direction. I prayed some for the people of Haiti, but for the most part, I didn't really pray at all. I just ran.

I was on my own for the bulk of the race...sometimes passing and sometimes catching up to the same woman who ran about my pace. I thanked her in the last mile for being my inspiration...we panted out introductions while we plodded over asphalt. But other than that woman, I was on my own. On my own enjoying the straight, empty roads, the perfection of the weather, and the promise of a snack at the end of the line. That was it.

The race was a culmination for me. A celebration. I'd put in all the training runs. All the evenings after work when we sweat in the descending sun and ignored our growling tummies. I still bore the scar on my knee from one of the first runs, when I crashed into a set of metal bleachers. I still remembered the few times I pushed the training too hard and came home lightheaded and sick to my stomach. Those were the hard days, when I labored in running as deeply as I labored in prayer.

But on race day, I celebrated. I celebrated one of the best times I had the entire training season. Maybe THE best. I celebrated perfect weather after days of suffocating heat. I celebrated a straight, flat road, after weeks of hills and running down dead end roads and alleys, jumping when the dogs started barking.

I celebrated knowing that somewhere in Haiti, a handful {a BIG handful} of people could celebrate the chance to receive medical attention because somewhere in Indiana, a group of people ran on a Saturday morning.

Sure, I was panting and tired when I reached the finish line. But it was the best run of the whole 16 weeks. It was lovely. It was a celebration. And I am so grateful I chose to do this. I'm grateful for what it taught me, and I'm grateful for what it offered the people of Haiti.

And they've said it will be back next year. The race, I mean.  I hope so. I have more to learn.

The Haiti Half

I've been telling you about it for weeks...and now it's finally in the books! {Or on the blog. However you want to interpret that.}

We first learned about the Haiti Half back around the time of the fair {July} and committed to run it even though Ryan doesn't like that much distance and I wasn't sure I could survive that much distance. We were about halfway through our training when we learned that they had to postpone the actual half marathon race, due to low registrations. But they carried on with the 5K, which was already scheduled to take place on the same day at the same time, so we decided we would run that instead.

We are so glad we did. I am pretty sure neither of our bodies were made for a half and there is not an ounce of shame in that.

We had a stunning day on Saturday to run the race, and I hoped you might allow me to share some pictures???

Some pre-race fun:

{Yeah that's the elementary school principal - also my parents' neighbor. This is what happens when you turn your back on your phone for a second. Randy leaves selfies.}

 This is my friend Amber {my friend since story hour, even before kindergarten!}. She designed the t-shirts for the race and also stood at one of the turns to direct traffic. She cheered me on along the way!! :)

Ryan's friend Randy...I believe they call this a rose between two thorns. :)

Our dear friend Paula. Her husband is our fabulous eye doctor. {You remember the eye doctor saga from earlier this summer.} Love her!

The race started about 9 a.m., so they took us to the starting line, and that was the last I saw of Ryan for the rest of the race. When we ran the 10K before we got engaged, he ran WITH me because I was too chicken to run alone. But this day was his race, and I wanted him to get the good time he could get without me holding him back!

Took these next few from the Haiti Half Facebook page, so photo credit goes to them. And we're off!!

 See Ryan??? Blue shirt on the left.

 See Bekah? She's the one on her phone. LOL!!!!! {I was NOT texting. I was starting my app to time myself.}

The route, you guys, was stunning. Through town, down a highway, through some back roads of fields and beauty,  back into town, and back to the school. After about the first mile, I ran mostly on my own and just so enjoyed the scenery. And by enjoyed, I mean I took pictures. So here you go!

Ryan KILLED IT and finished in twenty-one minutes!!! I still had about a mile to go then!! {Photo credit goes to my mom for coming to catch our memories for us!}

I am so stinking proud of him!! This is AMAZING!!!!!

And then, you know, ten minutes later, I showed up. I was so focused on getting done, I couldn't hear specifics, but I hear my mother was quite the darling cheerleader!!

 You guys, I was so proud of my time. I know those of you who are real runners could do it in the time Ryan did, but for ME, this is a really good time, and I was so pleased. And even more - I had fun running! I really did have fun!

Our cheerleader and photographer:

And we stayed around for the awards, because SOMEONE won for his age category!!

And then we drank our chocolate milk and went home. Despite all the training runs that taxed me and those that I thought might flat out kill me, I am so glad we did this. This was a good thing for us, and I'm glad we had the chance to do it together. And I am proud, proud, proud of Ryan for his amazing time and winning for our NOT OLD age bracket.