A Season of Suddenly

Two years ago, I read these words, written by Janet Paschal, and they stuck with me. (The mark of a fantastic writer, I believe...when her words stick two years later.)

In his articulate, compelling way, Pastor Hayford talked about how we sometimes pray regarding particular needs for long periods of time without any resolution or perceptible change. We forge ahead, looking neither left or right, with an almost stubborn determination that God is hearing us and working in our behalf. We believe, but not because we see any response to our petitions. Our belief is based solely on who He is and what He promised. Our assignment is to ask, seek, knock, and to keep on doing it.

In January, when we least expected it, God answered a prayer in such a way that we knew He had orchestrated the outcome. Much like dominoes, other prayers were answered and events triggered until we found ourselves in the throes of a visible, real time, act of the sovereign God of the ages. All we could do was stand back and utter words of gratitude and disbelief at the same time. Very quickly, God took a handful of impossibles and rendered them done. Asked and answered. And better than we hoped for.

God moves in the events of my life and I am rendered a mere observer, as helpless to stop His sovereignty as I was to start it.

So, here is the crux of the matter: that God is working even though we cannot see it, that He longs to take our most painful events and make them beautiful in time, that when we call on Him, He answers. Sometimes suddenly.

These words so moved me that I actually wrote to Janet to thank her for them. In her response to me, she said this: Press in to Him, don't look back, and listen closely. Your season of suddenly will break when you least expect it.

And He has been. He opened the door for my book to be published. He opened the door for me to leave a job that had taken a toll on my spirit. Furthermore, He opened the door to my dream job, and I had no idea it was even my dream.

These last two years have been beautiful...unexpected...and all ordained by His hands.

And I'm so, so grateful.

I say this to you today because the day I read Janet's words, I was grasping. I needed hope. And her words came through on the right day. So if today is your day to need hope...to believe that such a thing as a season of suddenly really does exist...take heart.

It's true.

Hi, My Name is Bekah...

...and I'm addicted to taking pictures.

It's true.

I was talking to my pastor this week, and in telling a story, I divulged that I'd taken 118 pictures during just part of one day at an event. He made a comment that I probably wouldn't always do that.

I stared at him and said (right out loud) "I'm sorry - I don't understand what you're talking about."

That's when he knew the severity of the picture taking experience for me. It is not at ALL unusual for me to take around 100 pictures at any given event. Granted, not all 100 might be worth keeping, but they'll certainly be present and accounted for!

I realize not everyone shares this deep love of mine, and I'm okay with that. But I am unlikely to change my ways on this one. And you know why? Because I love being able to look back and see the memories in living color.

It's no secret that I scrapbook - but I love to look at my scrapbooks. To go back and remember days of joy when something beautiful happened and I captured it in a photo (or two...or a hundred).

And so it is that I freely admit my photo addiction.

It's okay that my 2011 year-album was about 125 pages long. It's okay that I make a separate album of every vacation that includes photos of what I ate for dinner. It's okay that I'm currently two whole scrapbooks behind because of that practice. It's okay that when I'm 112, I'll have to add a room on the house just to hold the pictures.

It's okay because it keeps track of life...and I love this life.

I Am Not Sick

The achy feeling in my back and arms is surely due to running 2 miles on Saturday night and 5.5 miles on Sunday afternoon. (Because obviously running impacts the back and arms FIRST.)

The not-quite-scratchy-but-not-quite-okay feeling in my throat is no doubt due to the wind I ran in during the aforementioned runs. (Never mind the sock hat on Saturday and the ear covering headband on Sunday.)

The glazed eyes and pale face are, I'm certain, due to a lack of proper attention to my makeup this week.

The feeling of pure exhaustion is definitely from yesterday's tough conversation that emotionally sapped the life out of me before it even ever happened.

The fact that no food on the planet except a mocha milkshake sounds good to me is obviously from a severe lack of dairy consumption, which I should remedy immediately.

My indecision between hot and cold is, I'm sure, a direct reflection on the outside fluctuation between hot and cold.

One thing is very certain.

I am not sick.

And do you want to know why?

I have to run 6.2 miles on Saturday.

Since I am not sick, I am going to lay down (still wearing my skinny jeans and boots from work, which ended five hours ago, but I've not had the energy to change out of them) and keep watching this channel even though I hate the show (because I don't have the energy to pick up the remote and find a new show).

That's what I'm going to do.

Since I am not sick.

My Cat Eats Yogurt

I'm sitting here on my bed, having polished off two chocolate graham crackers and a glass of milk while simultaneously successfully avoiding the utter vulture of a cat that circled my person during the process. Braeya can be in a complete coma in another room, but any attempt to sneak into the kitchen and rustle up a snack also rustles up her taste buds and she wanders in to see what goodness awaits her.

And by wanders, I mean marches straight up to my face and meows loudly in a demand for her own plate.

Was she born in a garage?

Oh wait. Yes she was.

I love to eat yogurt in the morning. (Again, I continue to be amazed by that sentence.) As I make it, I dutifully dig a treat out of her kitty treat jar, and she gobbles it up. And then she jumps into bed with me and cries (loudly) while I eat my yogurt. And the moment I put the empty mug on the bed, she attacks it as though I'd not fed her in six months.

What cat eats yogurt? Ferociously?

And it's not just yogurt. She loves ranch dressing, roast beef, and a variety of soups.

And if you leave any non-warm beverage unattended...guess what? It's hers.

Essentially the only safe thing to walk away from is a cup of coffee.

I'm not sure what disturbs me more...that she eats all that stuff, or that she won't touch the coffee!

I'm not gonna lie though. So hard to be mad at her when you wake up to this:

Live Like That

Saturday I went to my friend Arlene's funeral. I hadn't been to a funeral in years. Viewings, yes. Funeral, no. And this one was a blend of excruciatingly hard and overwhelmingly beautiful.

We sang a lot of songs...because she loved songs. But what I loved most was hearing what people had to say about her life.

I only knew her for about a grand total of four years. Met her when I started attending that church. But you could tell by the people filling the sanctuary and overflow space...and the people who sent messages because they couldn't be there in person...that this had been a life well lived. A life cut short, from the viewpoint of the 200-300 or so of us sitting there...but nonetheless, a life well lived.

Arlene was in her 40's when she got married, but it was obvious she'd spent every moment before that time...and after...pouring all of herself into everyone around her.

I heard from more than one of her nieces that she was the kind of aunt that every girl needs. The aunt that sees the value in a life and says to a girl in her formative years: the person you are is not only okay...she is good. Love her. Be her. She was the aunt you told your secrets to and knew they'd be kept and you wouldn't be judged. She tried to keep you from making mistakes, but if you did, she loved you anyway.

She would make a pot of coffee at midnight and wasn't afraid to start a long and hard conversation at that hour, because she knew you needed to talk.

That was her life. PEOPLE were her life. People of all ages, shapes, and sizes. Broken people, messy people, confused people, happy people...people, people, people.

I didn't stand to share out loud that day, but if I had, my words would have been similar. She's the one who came to me at the beginning of my desert journey and with sincere love, said to me, "I don't know what's wrong, but I know something is. My heart is heavy for you and I'm praying for you." And that was that. It wasn't a subtle way of getting me to bare my soul. If I wanted to talk, I could. But if not, I was still so loved and prayed for, and the lack of details didn't offend her.

And so it was, that Saturday morning, we stood to sing the final hymn and then we walked outside the church, sorely missing our friend. But I walked outside finding myself aching to live like that. To be the kind of girl who loves people until there just isn't an ounce of love left to give.

It's the Weekly Recap!

* Last Sunday I was pretty pooped...after being gone for two straight days! So I enjoyed a super long afternoon nap, followed by a 5 mile run. FIVE MILES, PEOPLE! I was so proud of myself for finishing five miles in 53.17. For me, that is huge. And to celebrate, I sat straight down and cried.

* Monday evening I drove by this glorious sight...be still my beating heart. One week away from opening, and even CLOSER to my house than it was before. Miracles abound.

* Tuesday was such a hard day...the day our dear, sweet Arlene passed away. Oh how I miss her! That night I just took it easy at home, and I did take a trip down to IWU to get my first apple pie chai. It's one of their fall-only drinks and I've been waiting rather impatiently for it to hit the menu. Worth the wait!! (Sorry about the look. Do remember I'd cried off all my makeup.)

* Wednesday evening, I made a batch of caramel surprise brownies for Lynne's birthday. I was a little late with them but I'd failed to find the caramels! Kinda forgot it was Halloween season and all the candy migrated to the main aisle. Good grief.

* Thursday night was the night I stayed up late to have a little spiritual battle. And by little, I mean exhausting in every possible way. But you know what? I take great comfort in knowing those kinds of moments mean something is going right in life. Satan doesn't fight you when there isn't something to fight.

* Friday evening I helped at the church for my friend Arlene's viewing. Man, that was a hard evening...BUT...one of her nieces used to be a student worker of mine when I worked at IWU, and she was able to make the trip out for the weekend. It was so good to be able to hug her for a while!

* Saturday was Arlene's funeral. Can't remember if I've been to a funeral in the last several years, but hers was quite a beautiful life celebration with lots of singing and tears - but good tears. I'm glad I went. Spent the rest of the day just recovering in my heart from a long and hard week. (That may or may not have included my first trip to our new Hobby Lobby AND my best run EVER. 2 miles in 19.37!!)

Pinterest Inspiration. I'm sad to say I was uninspired this week. Too much going on to even spend the appropriate amount of time on Pinterest! :(

Running and Such

One week, people.

One week from today, I can officially no longer say this:

One week from today is my 10K race. To be really honest with you...I still kind of feel like this:

The training has been going better than expected in some ways. For example:

* I haven't died yet.

* I haven't broken a limb (mine, my running partner's, or a tree's). Yet.

* My walking breaks are a little shorter and more infrequent than they were at the very beginning. (Like when I walked most of it.)

* I've learned to eat and hydrate before runs. But not to hydrate too much because six miles is a long time to have to use the bathroom.

* I've learned to take small hills. (By small, I mean imperceptible to the naked eye.)

* I've learned to work on my breathing.

* I've learned I will run faster when promised a blizzard or a coke. Imagine how fast I could run if I got BOTH!!!

* I've learned I'm AWFULLY hard on myself when I don't have a good time. (A good time, in my book, matches Usain Bolt. You can imagine how far I fall short of this.)

But Jill from my office sent me this the other day, and I hope to focus on this in the final week before the big day:

The Place of War

Sometimes this is a place of war:

Sometimes the hollow spot in the middle of the living room, surrounded by journals, a full laundry basket, and a blanket not warm enough for a cold night is the place you fight your battles.

Sometimes you wake up still wearing a red button-down shirt, jeans, and purple socks you donned to try to keep warm.

Sometimes you're shivering and you don't know if it's from cold, lack of sleep, or the fact that Satan is still hounding you furiously.

Sometimes your face looks swollen in places you didn't even know it could swell and you still feel your chest heaving from trying to breathe through tears that stuck so long you couldn't find breath.

Sometimes you stomp your foot in anger because you're trying to intercede but the prayers won't come out and you feel completely inadequate.

In fact, you feel like a failure.

Sometimes you try to write prayers and they come out as sloppily transcribed bullet points barely legible and even less intelligible the next day.

Sometimes you give up and fall onto the pillow you know won't support you enough and give in to creating a stiff neck as you whisper, "Help me. I can't do this."

And that's when He whispers back Be still, and know that I am God.

And as you crack open old journals, full of scribblings from days gone by, you find accounts of other battles, some fought on the same ground, and you remember you survived that one, and you'll survive this one.

And sometimes you find quotes you scribbled on another day:

Fear will look us in the face and tell us as many lies as our insecurity will buy. Keep your eyes fixed on Jesus. It's okay to stare. (Bob Goff)

What if your greatest fear, your heaviest burden, has been given to you for such a time as this? (Randy Frazee)

Joy is like wine - it can run the sweetest in the crushing places. (Ann Voskamp)

And sometimes you stand up, fold the blanket, put the pillow back on the couch, close the journals, and face the day, because you have to come to the place of knowing that the battle isn't done, but you can rest in the Arms of the One who already won the war.

Shabby Chic

Lynne told me the other day that she saw her daughter-in-law early in the morning and she was (in Lynne's words) striking. She said she had on cute jeans, little sparkly flip-flops, red toenails, a darling sweater that slid perfectly off one shoulder, hair back in a smooth bun, Hollywood-esque shades donned, oversized bag on one shoulder, and Starbucks in hand.

Oh to be so beautiful first thing in the morning. Oh to step out looking like this:

I told Lynne that the same day her daughter-in-law stepped out in style, I came home from my running partner's house wearing the following ensemble: Running pants with a rather embarrassing hole in the seat, a ratty old t-shirt, a too-big fleece, hair in the sloppiest pony of my life, makeup cried off entirely, and lovely sparkly chandelier earrings. (I'd had those on with my dress up outfit pre-run and wasn't sure how else to get them safely home except to put them back in my ears.) In short, I looked more like this:

Well. Sort of.

The worst part about that wasn't that I abused shabby like Lynne's daughter-in-law rocked chic.

It was that I sort of felt like my father's daughter.

Gulp.

Stopped by their house one Sunday after church and Dad came wandering out wearing plaid pajama pants (rolled up at the cuff), a different plaid button down shirt, tan socks, and brown shoes.

(Note. The man in the photo is not my dad. We know this largely because of the hair. Dad has none of that.) (But you get the idea.)

I about died. "DAD!!!," I said. He looked rather innocently at me and I said, "DAD. Listen. One of these days something is going to happen and the news is going to show up. Do you WANT to be on the front page of the paper IN COLOR in that outfit?"

He shook his head. "Never going to happen."

The next week I sent him the front page of the Fort Wayne newspaper, where the above-the-fold color photo showed a man who got stuck in a tree and had to be removed by emergency personnel.

I said, "See? All it takes is one bad combo on a slow news day and you're in color on the front page. Think about it."

Better to be on the shabby side of chic than bad plaid on the front page, don't you agree?

Not for a Moment

I was sitting at my desk yesterday, alternating between working on show stuff and enjoying Lynne's birthday with her when I got the text.

Don't know if you heard, but Arlene passed away.

I held the phone in my hands and shook my head no, as if in some way, that would change the news.

My response: Are you serious? Even after a second affirmation, I went to Facebook page after Facebook page looking for news that someone else knew, hoping in my heart if no one else did, it might just be a rumor. Then I saw the words from her sister...I will miss you so much. You are beautiful, so beautiful...Your work was completed on earth.

It didn't feel complete to me. It felt so very unfinished.

She should be at church Sunday morning to shake her head when I walk in to Sunday School, followed by a "Look at you...always coordinated...even your purse and nail polish match. I just love you." She should be in her pew during the singing time, praising away right there in my line of vision. At least that's how it goes in my mind.

His Mind is higher than mine.

Last summer, when I was baptized, she and her husband were the only two attending who had actually asked to attend. When she heard what I was planning, she pulled me aside and said, "I don't know if this is okay to ask but I'd love to come to your baptism if you'd let me."

How glad I am that she asked. I treasure this picture.

Yesterday afternoon as I tried to wrap my brain around the news, I searched my mind for our last conversation. It would have been about a month ago, right before her stroke. I could not think of our last talk. I searched harder. I had to remember. What had I said?

Then I remembered. We were in our Experiencing God study, and before Sunday School started, I'd wandered over to her table to talk to her. She said her back and neck were sore, so I started rubbing them. She said I could stay all day if I wanted. So I did stay. I stayed until the class began and I had to go back to my own table.

I settled back into my seat with much relief. Our last moment together was filled with doing something for her that she wanted and she loved. If there has to be a last memory, I'm glad it's that one.

And then I remembered another talk we had just a week or so before that, I'd imagine. Church had ended and she stood behind my pew asking how the house sale was coming along. I rolled my eyes and said, "Well, I still own it!" She gripped the pew and said, "I pray for you and I don't understand why it hasn't sold, but selfishly I'm glad God still has you here with us. He has something special for you. I just know it."

Oh Arlene. He does. I know it too and now you know it from Heaven's viewpoint. How I love that while simultaneously missing you so much. When those answers come to pass, how much I will miss sharing them with you and seeing the joy on your face and feeling the warmth of your hug.

Arlene loved her some life...and now she's loving it to the full and I love that for her, but oh how my heart aches. And through my tears, I hang onto these words.

Being Taught

Sometimes when I need to stay awake while I drive, I drink coffee.

Sometimes I sing.

Singing not only keeps me awake, but everyone within a ten mile radius as well. For the times I drive after ten p.m....my apologies to those fine folks.

Last night I drove home singing duets with David Phelps, and I hit the old hymn It is Well. Love that song. How many thousands of times have I sung it?

Whatever my lot...they can be such difficult things, those lots. Like when my nephew died 24 years ago today. Or when Craig died 16 years ago this past summer. Or when baby Carol died almost 12 years ago. Or when the tornado hit my sister's home five years ago. Or when Isaac left our budding relationship two years ago.

Those days were devastating. The kind of days when you can't find breath. Nevertheless...whatever my lot.

Right now I don't have a big cloud of devastation looming over me (and I'm grateful!!) but I do have a lot. A lot to think through, a lot to embrace as my own, a lot to ponder and wrestle through when Satan's lies threaten to drown out God's truth. That's my lot today. You have yours too...

But here was the part of the song that got me as I drove along, thinking about my lot and how it's teaching me to say it is well....

Therein lies the key. THOU HAST TAUGHT ME TO SAY....

This ability to open my mouth and declare with certainty that it is well with my soul comes at the hand of much teaching. God-breathed teaching.

I'm a student right now. A student learning how to rely on her Abba to answer questions. And just as I struggled a bit to learn in school, I have to admit I struggle a tiny bit to learn now. To learn that He has a bigger plan and picture and He will work everything out for my own good.

Whatever my lot....

...Thou hast taught me to say...

It is well...it is welll with my soul.

A Day at the Apple Festival

Saturday I made my way north to the fine, fine state of Michigan to work the Apple Festival in Coldwater. I can't even remember the last time I was in Michigan!

Sheryl and I worked the festival together, and I had to be at the station in Fort Wayne at 7:15. That would be a.m. I was PETRIFIED I would oversleep, so with only 4 1/2 hours of sleep under my belt, I loaded up the coffee cup and headed north! I made it to the station on time and Sheryl drove the rest of the way. Why is it that I'm only sleepy BEHIND the wheel? As a passenger...wide awake!

Well, hello, Michigan!!

 We set up our tent (with the help of three kind passers-by) in front of a Salvation Army thrift store. The other side of the street was in the sun all day long. We were in the shade all day long. It was only 70 degrees at the highest point of the day, so we were ummmmmm kinda chilly! But that's okay!

 Hello Sheryl!!!!

 The first of four coffees for me that day. I consumed them both to keep warm (my toes were FROZEN!) and to stay awake. Not because the festival was boring, because it definitely wasn't...but because I knew I had to drive home after and I was afraid that would make me sleepy!

 You can't go to a festival and not eat festival food - at least a little!! So here was my treat. A waffle cone filled with warm apple pie filling and graham crackers, topped with whipped cream, a delightful crunchy something or other, and caramel. YUM.

 Our tent was set up directly across from this darling coffee shop/cafe/store. I got my lunch there - lobster bisque (how fancy pants, no?) and a ham sammich. The perk of buying lunch there? I could use their bathroom! It was a lovely warm room with real TP and a candle burning. It was such an improvement over the portapotty option that I made another purchase later just so I could use the bathroom again!

Sheryl and I had a fun day and enjoyed meeting our listener friends!

It's the Weekly Recap!

* Last Sunday was, as you saw, Savannah's baptism. Despite the frigid water (for them), it was a lovely, sunny beautiful day, and the perfect time for such an occasion! I missed being at my own church but was so glad to spend a Sunday hugging friends I don't normally see!

* Monday, I was emotionally wiped out. Lots going on in my heart these days, and while that "lots" doesn't mean bad, it does mean that sometimes I just need a night to sit and regroup. That was just such a night. I did watch the first part of the season premiere of The Voice.

* Tuesday, of course, was September 11, and this scene struck me as I got in my car after work:

That evening I obeyed the Spirit's promptings and went to a friend's house to do a foot-washing in an act of apology and as a symbol that I'm committed to changing the things I saw myself doing wrong. I cried all the way through it, but the sense of relief, forgiveness, and relief I felt at the end was completely worth it.

* Wednesday evening, I made fajitas for the first time ever in my life. They're not really a pretty food, I've decided, especially when you're eating them and the juice is running down your hands and onto your plate, but MAN are they good?

* Thursday was BLT show number two - also known as the day I cried on air because I read one of my journal excerpts and it got the best of me. Still love this show concept with Miss Lynne! And that night...I made a Better Than Sex cake. I don't name them. I just make them.

* Friday night I was invited to dinner at some friends' house, and I have a confession to make. Are you sitting down? No, really. You need to sit down. I had seconds on the vegetables. I know. GASP. I'm not sure what is wrong with me unless I'm coming down with a rare illness. They were just so PRETTY and GOOD. (What am I saying???)

 * Saturday I worked the Apple Festival in Coldwater, Michigan. More on that later but in another rare what-is-happening-to-me turn of events, Miss Hot Flash actually FROZE the entire day. AAAAHHHHH!!!! Had so much fun, though!

Pinterest Inspiration. I didn't actually finish this one this week because I"m missing the stamper I want to use. But I have the cards, and I LOVE this idea. You make a card for every day of the year, and then you write the year on a line and a highlight from that day. After 10 years, you can see at a glance the highlight of that date on each year. Want to start this come January 1!!

Source: designspongeonline.com via Rebekah on Pinterest

ABC's...dos

And now...the (not so) dramatic conclusion to yesterday's alphabetical randomness.

Nicknames. My sister named me Motor Mouth when I was a kid. I'm sure I have no idea where she got that. And in college, my friends named me Princess.

Overnight hospital stays. When I was five, I was hospitalized for strep throat...that settled in my hip and rendered me unable to walk. I promise I don't make this stuff up.

Pet Peeves. Gum. I hate to see it, smell it, or see it on the side of anyone's plate or cup. I'm getting the heebie jeebies just writing about it so I'm moving on.

Quote from a movie. The movie I quote most often is Liar Liar. Not my proudest ever...but still true.

Right or left handed. Right!

Siblings. I have two. Both are sisters, and both were in high school when I was born! WOOPS!

Time it takes you to get ready. Depends on if I straighten my hair or go curly. Curly - 45 minutes. Straight - at least an hour. Probably more like an hour and fifteen minutes.

Ultimate vacation. A honeymoon. :)

Vegetable you hate. Brussel sprouts.

What makes you run late. Failure to respond to the alarm the first half hour it goes off.

X-rays you've had. Broke my leg in the sixth grade. PAINFUL x-ray. They had to move it around and um....IT WAS BROKEN.

Yummy food that you make. Cinnamon swirl pancakes

Zoo animal. It would have to be the lion that I took such amazing pictures of a couple of years ago. Not ANY lion. THAT lion.

And there you have it! Hope you can win a round of trivia sometime...

ABC's...uno

It's a slow week in blogland. Sorry about that!! So in the absence of more to write about...I'm stealing this ABC fun from the Living Proof Ministries blog! I'll use it today and tomorrow!! Random factoids about yours truly!

Age... Thirty-four. How did I get to be THIRTY-FOUR???? (Don't explain it to me. I actually do know how it happened.)

Bed size... King. Converted to this bed several years ago after deeming a twin bed too depressing. Turns out it takes a king size bed to stash all my books, journals, computer, and of course - Braeya. She does have her own side. And if I inhabit it...I pay.

Chore you hate. RAKING LEAVES. I think there's nothing I hate worse. It's like dusting. You take forever to do it...get it done (finally!) and then BOOM. New leaves already.

Dogs. I once had a chihuahua named Lassie. True story.

Essential way to start your day. Um....COFFEE??? (Was that a necessary question?)

Favorite color. PURPLE!! My bedroom is purple. (Times three shades.)

Gold or silver? Silver ALL the way.

Height. 5'6". More on a good hair day!

Instruments you play. I took piano lessons for 11 years and I couldn't play anything more complicated than John Thompson, Book One, if I sat at a keyboard today. Sad.

Job Title. Mid-Morning producer

Kids. Nope! Just the feline kind.

Live. In Indiana! Lifelong Hoosier!

Mother's Name - Marilyn! (Or Mom. Or if you want her to answer...Mrs. Freelan)

Messes

When Angela lived here, one of our biggest arguments (continual arguments, I mean) was over our Mary/Martha complex. She was Mary. I was Martha.

I tried my best to instill in her the value of a chore well done. Have weekend plans? You don't get to start them until the dusting is finished, the yard is mowed, the groceries are purchased, the bed is made, and the laundry is folded. It's the responsibility of a grown-up, I reasoned. We don't have the luxury, any longer, of flitting about having fun with others when responsibilities remain undone at home.

She disagreed. People before chores, she said. Have the chance to spend time with a friend? Invest in the relationship instead. The dusting and mowing and shopping and laundry will all still be there when you get back.

But what if it rains and you can't mow? What if someone stops by and the house is a mess?

Over the three year period we lived together, guess who started to win the ongoing battle of the M&M complex?

Clue: Wasn't me.

She slowly taught me that people and relationships ARE important and in fact...gasp...more important than dusting. (Because let's face it. Whenever you dust, it will need done again in five minutes.)

I thought of her as I looked around the house tonight:

* A half-finished Pinterest project is haphazardly thrown on the dining room table.

* Tonight's dishes are still on the counter because I haven't gotten around to emptying the dishwasher I ran today.

* I need to mow but it may not happen for just a few more days yet.

* The laundry bag is full...but there's always tomorrow.

And yet, this week I've gotten to spend time with friends. And how I wish I could tell her she's right. That those conversations I've had, the hugs I've swapped, and the investments I made far outweigh a spotless countertop.

Angela, I miss being able to tell you you're right. I hope God lets you know, in some way, the impact you made on my life. And I know now that those moments you spent investing in people were absolutely the right choice. You didn't have a whole life ahead of you. You made the most of the time. You left the mess to love on hurting hearts.

Good choice. I hope I can be like you when I grow up.

Let's Laugh For A Minute, MMMMKAY?

It’s been a while since we had a good laugh here at Bekah’s Bits. I think that’s a direct result of it being a while since I’ve done something so incredibly stupid that it’s made a good blog post. Although I guess there was that run-in with security down at the Women of Faith conference…but I digress.


So yesterday I got an email forward from my mother…that had me in tears laughing because I do some of these things!!!!

Let the record show, I am NOT a germophobe. If you are sick and you enter my presence, I will not chase you out in an eye-burning deluge of Lysol. I will not Clorox wipe the surfaces of the room upon your exit. I will even give you a hug, because everyone who feels sick needs a hug.

But I do admit that a couple of years ago when that whole H1N1 scare came out, I did start carrying hand sanitizer in my purse and I developed a strange aversion to carrying trays at fast food restaurants.

It is in this spirit that I share the items from the email that do apply to me – at least upon occasion.

I can no longer open a bathroom door without using a paper towel.

I can't touch any purse for fear it has been placed it on the floor of a public toilet.

I can't eat at KFC because their chickens are actually horrible mutant freaks with no eyes, feet or feathers. (Not true. I can still eat it. But I do ponder the mutant freak as I eat.)

I no longer buy fuel without taking someone along to watch the car, so a serial killer doesn't crawl in my back seat when I'm filling up.

I can't use anyone's toilet but mine because a big black snake could be lurking under the seat and cause me instant death when it bites my butt. (In truth, I worry about this with my own toilet too.)

I can't do any gardening because I'm afraid I'll get bitten by the Violin Spider and my hand will fall off. (I’m actually not afraid of this but it is my story and I’m sticking to it when it comes to why I cannot garden.)

The email concluded with this:

If you don't send this e-mail to at least 144,000 people in the next 70 minutes, a large dove with diarrhea will land on your head at 5:00 p.m. tomorrow afternoon, and the fleas from 120 camels will infest your back, causing you to grow a hairy hump. I know this will occur because it actually happened to a friend of my next door neighbor’s ex mother-in-law's second husband's cousin's best friend's beautician!

Of course I don’t believe that, but that’s also the reason I don’t forward emails. It’s a matter of principle. You told me to do it…so therefore I refuse. Same reason I refuse to like or share things on Facebook. If I want to like or share it, I will. Otherwise, NOPE!

Great. Now the next time I boil a cup of water in the microwave, it will blow up in my face, disfiguring me for life. (Another suggestion of the email.) (Why do you think my microwave is on top of my refrigerator?)

Baptism

This past Sunday was a sweet day. I had the chance to attend the baptism of one of my "nieces" - Savannah. Hard to believe this darling young lady is the same tiny baby whose first breath I witnessed (around some tears). She is a special gift...given to parents whose hearts were still healing over the loss of their first baby.

Since she and I don't go to the same church any longer, I don't see her regularly. I sat in the church service Sunday morning, listening as she heard Pastor Brian read the purpose of baptism and without missing one moment of confidence, she answered that she understood and believed what he was saying.

Loved that moment. Loved seeing this girl whose tiny being used to fit in one of my arms...all grown up enough to unabashedly say she loves the Lord. And at the same time, I loved the little girl in her that said to me, "I'm gonna jump!" about two seconds before she leaped into my arms.

And then we made a little field trip a couple of blocks away from the church, where Savannah and Pastor Brian climbed into a (very cold, I understand) swimming pool. (And this would be why I got baptized in July.)



 And she did not exhibit one ounce of nerves about going under the water at the hand of someone else. (That was my greatest fear. Not kidding.)

 And to see the same man who baptized me....baptize her...

...was such a beautiful moment!

 So thankful she's chosen to follow the Lord. He has great things for her life. I know it.

Proud of my girl!

Selah!

Saturday night I had the chance to see Selah in concert. I heart Selah. I've listened to them for years...many, many years now! Love their sound, their blend, and how much they love hymns! (Yep, I'm still a sucker for a good hymn!)

The concert started just a wee bit late, because the two guys got stuck at the airport in Detroit. (Ahhhh, air travel.)

Larry and Jim from our morning show were the emcee's...they always crack me UP!

 Todd Smith...Selah's lead singer, and husband of one of my fave writers, Angie Smith. He has some incredible power to his voice! Love it!

 Amy Perry is the female vocal, and I love her. I was so nervous when Todd's sister, Nicol, left the group because her voice is incredible, and I wasn't sure how they'd replace her. Amy is AMAZING.

 Love their hymn arrangements. Here's a vintage take of Todd singing "Great is Thy Faithfulness."

 One of my newer faves of theirs: "I Turn to You."

 Amy shared some of her personal testimony too...some of her struggles with her self-image and weight. Yep. I sat there and cried my way through THAT.

 If you haven't heard Todd and Angie's story of their daughter and her life and death...check this out.

 Todd's parents were missionaries in Africa, so they did a song in Congolese (is that the right word? All I know is it WASN'T English. He pulled some people out of the audience to help. The lady on the far left actually grew up there and could sing it better than he could, he said.

 Allan Hall is the piano player for Selah, and he also sings on a few songs. He is INCREDIBLY talented!

 Such a great night....so enjoyed the chance to see them live!!

It's the Weekly Recap!

* Last Sunday evening I had dinner at Mi Pueblo, which is (in my opinion) the best Mexican Restaurant in Marion. I could make a whole meal off their chips and salsa. Or just the salsa. And Kristin, in your honor, I had arroz con pollo. (Or con polly, as I first typed. Poor Polly.) I would have taken a picture but I was far too busy EATING.

* Monday I had the day off work, so I labored by running 4 miles in 289347290470293740% humidity. (Roughly.) This was the before photo. There will be no after photo, as I looked like I had jumped in a swimming pool of sweat. SO attractive.

* Tuesday I had a rare evening at home...which makes for lovely rest but very boring (and picture-less) blog news. I spent the evening catching up on chores and cooking. And talking on the phone. (Gasp.)

* Wednesday evening I went to my friend Amy's book signing! She and I have known each other since we were (very small) kids! I'm so proud of her for writing this children's book about living with Huntington's Disease. Both her dad and her grandpa died from it, so she knows it well and I'm proud of her for tackling such a hard topic with such grace!

* Thursday was our first BLT show! Lynne and I had such fun on the air together and we hope everyone else had as much fun listening! (Heaven help us all when she dragged out the topic of shaving legs. My DAD was listening!!! Bet he loved THAT.)

* Friday evening I headed to...are you ready for this? THE LAKE!!!!! :) It was a wee bit rainy but I didn't care. Can I sit and look at the water? Oh yes please!!

*And Saturday night I saw Selah in concert...for the first time in my life! Love them so much. SUCH a good concert. Very, very worshipful!

Pinterest Inspiration. Used my "A Girl Can Dream" board to make a blog post this week!