blogger.com has officially deleted a post I worked on for over 24 hours.
i'm pretty pissed. not gonna lie.
i've moved my blog to http://bakewritepray.wordpress.com
go be impressed at how not sucky it is.
Sincerely,
Becki
Saturday, August 7, 2010
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Generation Sissy-Pants
Are you a fearless parent? I understand that it seems as much an oxymoron as good colonoscopy or sugar free cheesecake. (Colonoscopy and cheesecake in one sentence? Wow, this post is off to a fantastic start.) Fearless parenting is possible. I promise.
If humans are not born with a spirit of fear where did the knowledge, understanding and submission to fear come from? Yes, fear is created from the knowledge of evil but infants and two year olds don't understand evil. Who does? Their parents. My belief is that parents inflict a crippling sense of fear on their children from the day they were born. Like it or not, I have done this very thing to my child unintentionally. I have gasped when she does something that I fear, I have told her not to do things when I fear that she might scrape a knee, fear, worry, panic, etc. etc. This is what most people would consider "good parenting" so how can this (in my opinion) be crippling a whole generation of children?
All the children see is a parent who worries, fusses over their every move and has a constant attitude of fear for their child's safety and well being. Think about this. If a child saw his or her parents praying over a situation rather than fearing it how do you think it would affect them? If you encouraged your child to swim instead of fussing, panicking and putting them in every flotation device known to man don't you think that they may have more confidence and better success swimming? What if instead of telling the child that they can't climb the jungle gym by themselves you told them that you had faith in them and you knew that all things are possible through Christ and that God has their safety in His hands?
That's all good and swell until the kid falls and ends up the hospital with 30 stitches and a broken arm, right? Maybe not.
Let's look at the long term goal, here. Do you want your child to be afraid to try new things, go new places and reach new goals? Do you want your child to be too suffocated with worry and fear that they never reach for their dreams? Fear starts small and it all starts with us - the parents.
Parents we need to get on our knees. We need to be constantly praying for the safety and well being of our children and we should be doing it in front of our children. Imagine growing up knowing that there is a God who loves you, knows you and has His hand of protection around you. That's pretty awesome. Just as importantly we need to be aware of how we react to situations in front of them. If we gasp and cry, rush to their side and hover over them every time they bonk their head or skin their knee we are only creating a sense of fear in them. They will now be afraid to fall down. If they are too afraid to fall how are they ever going to learn to get back up?
By worrying over them we effectively counteract everything we have ever told them about God and the protection and gifts He has given them. Our children are not going to learn to be brave and confident if we are not bravely confident in our God. God has it under control, parents. I promise. Let's take a step back, pray and have confident faith that God knows what's best for our children. Let's promise to instill a sense of courage, power and a knowledge of God and His strength in them. For a child to know that they are a directly connected to the current of the God that created the heavens and the earth... that's better than being Batman's wing-man.
Personal blip - Brinley has always been a very brave and tough child. I very firmly believe it is because we have not raised her with a spirit of fear. We are encourage her to do new things and do not flutter over her with worry and panic when she falls or messes up. We pick her up, kiss the boo-boo, assure her that she's okay and send her on her way. If we showed fear every time she fell down the steps, stubbed her toe, closed her fingers in the fridge or got scratched by the dogs she would grow up too afraid to do a lot of things.
This summer Brinley has become infatuated with swimming. (Watch out Nemo and Lightning McQueen, my daughter likes water more than you.) She wears floaties and sunscreen and has the time of her life. As a mom it was all too easy for me to panic every time she would bob in the water unevenly or get chlorine in her eyes, but I had to learn to take a step back, have faith in God's protection around her and let her learn. Now, let me be clear, I was not in the house drinking mimosas while my two year old daughter went for a swim. I (and many other people) were in the pool with her but never fussing over her or encouraging a spirit of fear.
This past weekend Brinley encountered a slide (an eight foot, curved slide that leads directly into the deep end of the pool to be specific). My immediate reaction is - Heck, I wouldn't even go down that slide so naturally there's no way Brinley would. I was wrong. I watched her repeatedly get out of the pool, walk over to the stairs, climb up, sit down and slide down (often head first) into the pool. Every single time she laughed on the way down and was still laughing when she came above the water. I could not be more proud.
It's moments like these that I pray and thank God that I have a healthy, confident and brave daughter that falls and knows how to get back up, that isn't afraid to do down the slide head first into the deepend and that knows her God loves her. That makes all the bumps and scrapes worth it.
Please understand that I am not saying that I have it all figured out or that my way of parenting is the only way. With that said, I honestly believe that we are raising a generation of children who are going to be too afraid to fail, fall or try new things because the parents have instilled a spirit of fear in them, not of faith. Lets be the different ones. Let's encourage and pray for our children.
If humans are not born with a spirit of fear where did the knowledge, understanding and submission to fear come from? Yes, fear is created from the knowledge of evil but infants and two year olds don't understand evil. Who does? Their parents. My belief is that parents inflict a crippling sense of fear on their children from the day they were born. Like it or not, I have done this very thing to my child unintentionally. I have gasped when she does something that I fear, I have told her not to do things when I fear that she might scrape a knee, fear, worry, panic, etc. etc. This is what most people would consider "good parenting" so how can this (in my opinion) be crippling a whole generation of children?
All the children see is a parent who worries, fusses over their every move and has a constant attitude of fear for their child's safety and well being. Think about this. If a child saw his or her parents praying over a situation rather than fearing it how do you think it would affect them? If you encouraged your child to swim instead of fussing, panicking and putting them in every flotation device known to man don't you think that they may have more confidence and better success swimming? What if instead of telling the child that they can't climb the jungle gym by themselves you told them that you had faith in them and you knew that all things are possible through Christ and that God has their safety in His hands?
That's all good and swell until the kid falls and ends up the hospital with 30 stitches and a broken arm, right? Maybe not.
Let's look at the long term goal, here. Do you want your child to be afraid to try new things, go new places and reach new goals? Do you want your child to be too suffocated with worry and fear that they never reach for their dreams? Fear starts small and it all starts with us - the parents.
Parents we need to get on our knees. We need to be constantly praying for the safety and well being of our children and we should be doing it in front of our children. Imagine growing up knowing that there is a God who loves you, knows you and has His hand of protection around you. That's pretty awesome. Just as importantly we need to be aware of how we react to situations in front of them. If we gasp and cry, rush to their side and hover over them every time they bonk their head or skin their knee we are only creating a sense of fear in them. They will now be afraid to fall down. If they are too afraid to fall how are they ever going to learn to get back up?
By worrying over them we effectively counteract everything we have ever told them about God and the protection and gifts He has given them. Our children are not going to learn to be brave and confident if we are not bravely confident in our God. God has it under control, parents. I promise. Let's take a step back, pray and have confident faith that God knows what's best for our children. Let's promise to instill a sense of courage, power and a knowledge of God and His strength in them. For a child to know that they are a directly connected to the current of the God that created the heavens and the earth... that's better than being Batman's wing-man.
Personal blip - Brinley has always been a very brave and tough child. I very firmly believe it is because we have not raised her with a spirit of fear. We are encourage her to do new things and do not flutter over her with worry and panic when she falls or messes up. We pick her up, kiss the boo-boo, assure her that she's okay and send her on her way. If we showed fear every time she fell down the steps, stubbed her toe, closed her fingers in the fridge or got scratched by the dogs she would grow up too afraid to do a lot of things.
This summer Brinley has become infatuated with swimming. (Watch out Nemo and Lightning McQueen, my daughter likes water more than you.) She wears floaties and sunscreen and has the time of her life. As a mom it was all too easy for me to panic every time she would bob in the water unevenly or get chlorine in her eyes, but I had to learn to take a step back, have faith in God's protection around her and let her learn. Now, let me be clear, I was not in the house drinking mimosas while my two year old daughter went for a swim. I (and many other people) were in the pool with her but never fussing over her or encouraging a spirit of fear.
This past weekend Brinley encountered a slide (an eight foot, curved slide that leads directly into the deep end of the pool to be specific). My immediate reaction is - Heck, I wouldn't even go down that slide so naturally there's no way Brinley would. I was wrong. I watched her repeatedly get out of the pool, walk over to the stairs, climb up, sit down and slide down (often head first) into the pool. Every single time she laughed on the way down and was still laughing when she came above the water. I could not be more proud.
It's moments like these that I pray and thank God that I have a healthy, confident and brave daughter that falls and knows how to get back up, that isn't afraid to do down the slide head first into the deepend and that knows her God loves her. That makes all the bumps and scrapes worth it.
Please understand that I am not saying that I have it all figured out or that my way of parenting is the only way. With that said, I honestly believe that we are raising a generation of children who are going to be too afraid to fail, fall or try new things because the parents have instilled a spirit of fear in them, not of faith. Lets be the different ones. Let's encourage and pray for our children.
Sunday, August 1, 2010
three hundred and sixty some odd days later...
did you know it's been a year since I last posted on this blog? did you know that I had completely forgotten this even existed? did you know that I stopped blogging because someone I didn't need to worry about said not nice things and did equally not nice things? did you know she needs more Jesus than she has? did you know I pray for her... not as often as I should but I do?
so it's been a year and here's what's going on.
1. i am writing a book.
b. i have the best job ever at S Studio Salon and Day Spa
III. my daughter is more beautiful than yours.
4. jason is a great husband and he's mine. not yours.
e. i have fantastic friends. be jealous.
VI. my baking company died. i'm going to pull a Lazarus and bring it back.
7. i have fertility problems. again. and again.
h. i have allowed myself to become completely obsessed with music. this time it's good stuff. (no offense hanson or 'nsync - i still love you.)
IX. i take my camera and lap top with me everywhere. ev. ery. where.
10. i secretly like chick-lit. and by 'love' i mean obsessively stalk.
so what can you expect here?
probably a little bit of tactless wit.
tantrums.
photos.
recipes.
book suggestions / reviews.
confessions.
blips and blurbs.
commas - and a lot of them.
life.
read if you like. stop if you don't.
you'll kill my self-esteem if you don't but that's okay.
go on.
kill it.
i see you.
yes, you.
thanks for nothing.
rebecca.
ps. if you're still here, you're my favorite. like butter - or diet dr. pepper.
so it's been a year and here's what's going on.
1. i am writing a book.
b. i have the best job ever at S Studio Salon and Day Spa
III. my daughter is more beautiful than yours.
4. jason is a great husband and he's mine. not yours.
e. i have fantastic friends. be jealous.
VI. my baking company died. i'm going to pull a Lazarus and bring it back.
7. i have fertility problems. again. and again.
h. i have allowed myself to become completely obsessed with music. this time it's good stuff. (no offense hanson or 'nsync - i still love you.)
IX. i take my camera and lap top with me everywhere. ev. ery. where.
10. i secretly like chick-lit. and by 'love' i mean obsessively stalk.
so what can you expect here?
probably a little bit of tactless wit.
tantrums.
photos.
recipes.
book suggestions / reviews.
confessions.
blips and blurbs.
commas - and a lot of them.
life.
read if you like. stop if you don't.
you'll kill my self-esteem if you don't but that's okay.
go on.
kill it.
i see you.
yes, you.
thanks for nothing.
rebecca.
ps. if you're still here, you're my favorite. like butter - or diet dr. pepper.
Monday, July 27, 2009
What Brinley Did Today
Brinley had Macaroni and Cheese for Dinner.
Then she tried on some nifty shades.
Then she decided to terrorize the dogs.
Next she had a wardrobe change and decided to go for a swing.
And then a romp.
And then on a twig finding adventure with Sandler and Holly.
Only then did she notice the creepy neighbor and cling to mommy's leg.
Then back inside for a few moments of being cute.
Then right back to the time out stool.
This all happened within a time frame of 2 hours. :)
Welcome to the lovely life of a mother to a toddler.
I heart my daughter.
Then she tried on some nifty shades.
Then she decided to terrorize the dogs.
Next she had a wardrobe change and decided to go for a swing.
And then a romp.
And then on a twig finding adventure with Sandler and Holly.
Only then did she notice the creepy neighbor and cling to mommy's leg.
Then back inside for a few moments of being cute.
Then right back to the time out stool.
This all happened within a time frame of 2 hours. :)
Welcome to the lovely life of a mother to a toddler.
I heart my daughter.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Monday, March 23, 2009
Becki: (n) - An intricate being of emotion and creativity. A sinner.
I am a good person. I am mature for my age and a decent member of society. I bathe. I return my shopping cart to its place in the parking lot. I respect others. I am reliable. I listen. I absorb things that matter like a sponge. I’m a hard worker. I acknowledge the differences in others and accept them for who they are. I love equally. I volunteer at my church. I bake meals for those after big life events. I even smile at my mother-in-law. I am a truthful and trustworthy person. I can keep a secret like no one else. I am a people pleaser to the core - making you happy makes me happy.
I can’t stand myself.
I am a sarcastic person. I’m very passive aggressive. I am insecure. I hate cocky people. I don’t like not being the best at something. I fear being marginal. I dislike consistently happy people. I am a loner to the extreme. I hate being smothered. I won’t believe you if you praise me. I only give people one chance. I don’t like people of authority. I crush easily - make me laugh and I’m yours. I pick fights to see if you think I’m worth it. I am a basket case.
I am five foot seven inches on paper but in my head I’m five foot eight and a half. My hair is naturally some shade of brown that I can’t remember through all the years of red, blonde, light brown and now nearly black. My eyes are blue with a distinct pattern of gray in them. I don’t know if they change with my mood but I feel like they would. I am in no shape - other than round and pear like. I spend a majority of my time thinking about everyone else and how to make their lives easier. I come very last in my book. Spending any kind of time or money on myself feels like a sin, a waste or a very selfish act.
I am 25 and still have no idea what I am going to do with my life. I’ve considered, esthetician, cosmetology, senior housing, non-profit, education, writing, baking, home child care, ranching, interior decorating, home design, social worker, travel agent, event planning, bridal gown sales and just about everything else you can imagine. All I really know is that I’m not going to be happy until I find my niche and I’m still looking. Oh I forgot to mention, clothing designer, artist, animator, musician, website designer and photographer. All I seem to be moderately good at right now is being a mom.
I’ve managed to keep my daughter alive for a year now. And the saints come marching in. I never believed we would make it this far. Someone should have tied my tubes right after my wedding ring went on my finger. Who in the world gave me the ability to reproduce and what the heck were they thinking? It’s true that any boob can have a child but it takes a braver person than I to be a decent parent. I try to go everything I can to make sure that she has the best life possible but there are days when all I want to do is get up and leave. Then I think of my mom and how brave she was and I continue my journey for Brinley.
I am not worthy of Christ’s love. I am guilty of every sin in the book except for murder of the physical sense. Worship moves me to tears. I lift my hands in surrender and reaching for my Father. There is nothing more amazing than the feeling of His hands in mine or His arms around mine as I worship. I am self-conscious about prayer and ‘Acting Christian’ but worship is where I know that I can be me. Worship is where God and I connect on the deepest level.
I take the words 'introvert' and 'private' to the extreme. I would rather be somewhere all by myself than with a group of people. Loud public places can be the most private if you know how to shut your mind off. Clear the mechanism. I would love to spend a whole day in a cafe with my laptop and a blank page infront of me. It would be the most productive time of my life. My imagination flows better with the white noise of other people's conversations.
This is my train of thought. This is who I am today. Tomorrow might be different but for now.. here's me.
Monday, March 2, 2009
Distance
I feel so distant from the path that God has set before me that it's painful. I can't seem to keep my feet in His footprints or follow His voice in the darkness. My life is miserable most days and I'm not going to lie to try and hide it. I'm too young to be married and have a kid. I never partied. I never had a wild night out. I was never able to just - be a kid/teenager. I've never been with anyone but my husband. I've never had an actual college experience. I've never done drugs. I've always been stuck with responsibility and maturity beyond my years and now I'm finally sick of it. I've never saught out other means of comfort but suddenly my worldly body is longing for these things and I don't know why. Why is it so danged tempting to want everything that we don't have even if we KNOW that it's not going to get us anywhere but more pain and back where we started at the very bottom of the pit of pain and self-loathing? Why in the world do I long to go out and get absolutely sloshed? Why do I long for the relief of being numbed by drugs? Why do I look forward to business trips to get away? Why do I say the normal "oh i missed them so much" line when I don't really mean it? Why am I looking to other means for comfort? The longings of the world have such a strong grip on me right now that every second of every day temptaion is staring at me - smack in the face.
I am so proud of everyone around me making leaps and bounds in their relationship with 'papa' and here I sit completely confused and upset. I don't know what to do. Who to turn to. Where to go. What to ask for. Why I even feel this way. I feel lost. Lost beyond all meaning of the word right now and I hate it. I miss the words of love that used to be given to me by my Father. I miss the little pick-me-ups in the middle of a rough patch. I miss the feeling of knowing that He is there and He does love me. I don't know what to do. The world has a hold of my left hand and the longing for Christ has my right. I feel like I'm going to rip down the middle.
I am so proud of everyone around me making leaps and bounds in their relationship with 'papa' and here I sit completely confused and upset. I don't know what to do. Who to turn to. Where to go. What to ask for. Why I even feel this way. I feel lost. Lost beyond all meaning of the word right now and I hate it. I miss the words of love that used to be given to me by my Father. I miss the little pick-me-ups in the middle of a rough patch. I miss the feeling of knowing that He is there and He does love me. I don't know what to do. The world has a hold of my left hand and the longing for Christ has my right. I feel like I'm going to rip down the middle.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Out with the old....
It's been almost a year since Brinley was born. My oh my have things changed. This week I'm going through all of Brinley's clothes in preparation for an upcoming www.jbfsale.com event. I've never consigned any of her clothes before and I'm finding it harder and harder to let these items go. Memories of her first year are making it nearly impossible to find things to sell.
This onesie is from Wal-Mart...cheap.. thin... and I can't get rid of it. It means something to me because I still remember the moment that we lay down on her playmat and took these pictures. She wasn't even two weeks old yet. I can remember the way she smelt, the little noises she made, the sound of her yawn, how bright her eyes were and how tiny she was.
This is a cheap, $4 Target brand onsie that she wore to her two week doctors appointment. She had lost nearly two pounds since her birth and was wasting away. The doctor put her on medicated formula and she threw up an entire bottle all over this onsie. We sat in aunt stephy's office and I nearly bawled as I watched her throw up the formula that she needed so badly. I can't let it go.
This is a BabyGap shirt I got at a consignment store before she was born. I paid somewhere around $4.00 for it. I could sell it now at the JBF sale and make at least a 3.00 profit on it but I can't. She wore this shirt to church week after week, her birth and dedication announcement invitations were photographed in this shirt. She wore it with a pair of white shorts that were so long that they went down to her ankles and she was still the cutest thing on the block. I won't let this go.
This is a Harley Davidson onsie that was purchased for her Aunt Stephy's enjoyment. I would never have voluntarily purchased the outfit other than for the mere enjoyment of making her Aunt beam with pride. I will not shall not could not sell this.
This was the first outfit she smiled in. Nope - not letting it go.
A bib is cheap - meant to be disgusting and dirty. A bib's entire existence is to be soiled. Why keep it? Why not just throw it in a big ziploc bag and sell a bundle of them for $2.00? Because this was the first time she ate solids. Green Beans. We were watching Finding Nemo. It was 7:00 at night and Jason was down at his parents helping them with their house. I shall not let this go.
This onsie is now bleach stained all down the front and it should be thrown away or used for a rag but I won't do it. This is the onsie she wore the first night she started sitting up on her own.
Enough said - Our first and not the last OU cheer outfit for halloween 08.
Brinley's first OU Football game!! Who could let such a thing go? Never I say!
Her sleeper from the last night in her pack and play in our bedroom. From here on out she's been in her room in a big girl crib! These are neatly folded under my bed so that they're always there to remind me!!
Brinley's first Christmas morning pajamas. She was SIIIICK! Had a head cold and sores under her nose from all the weeks of snot. But in true Brinley style she was still happy, excited to see you and continually curious about everything. These pajamas are supposed to be for 18 months but at 9 months they fit her perfectly! Go figure!
There are so many more that I can't 'Bear' to give up. I know my attic will be full of baby clothes but I just can't part with them. It would be like admitting that my baby is growing up and good heavens we can't have any of that!
She's going to be one year old in two days shy of a month. I feel like bawling and congratulating myself for making it thus far. I hope and pray that the next years of her life go by with as many memories and more! I can only pray that I'm there for the best and the worst for her and that she knows just how much her mommy loves her.
Someone stop her. She must not grow up.
This onesie is from Wal-Mart...cheap.. thin... and I can't get rid of it. It means something to me because I still remember the moment that we lay down on her playmat and took these pictures. She wasn't even two weeks old yet. I can remember the way she smelt, the little noises she made, the sound of her yawn, how bright her eyes were and how tiny she was.
This is a cheap, $4 Target brand onsie that she wore to her two week doctors appointment. She had lost nearly two pounds since her birth and was wasting away. The doctor put her on medicated formula and she threw up an entire bottle all over this onsie. We sat in aunt stephy's office and I nearly bawled as I watched her throw up the formula that she needed so badly. I can't let it go.
This is a BabyGap shirt I got at a consignment store before she was born. I paid somewhere around $4.00 for it. I could sell it now at the JBF sale and make at least a 3.00 profit on it but I can't. She wore this shirt to church week after week, her birth and dedication announcement invitations were photographed in this shirt. She wore it with a pair of white shorts that were so long that they went down to her ankles and she was still the cutest thing on the block. I won't let this go.
This is a Harley Davidson onsie that was purchased for her Aunt Stephy's enjoyment. I would never have voluntarily purchased the outfit other than for the mere enjoyment of making her Aunt beam with pride. I will not shall not could not sell this.
This was the first outfit she smiled in. Nope - not letting it go.
A bib is cheap - meant to be disgusting and dirty. A bib's entire existence is to be soiled. Why keep it? Why not just throw it in a big ziploc bag and sell a bundle of them for $2.00? Because this was the first time she ate solids. Green Beans. We were watching Finding Nemo. It was 7:00 at night and Jason was down at his parents helping them with their house. I shall not let this go.
This onsie is now bleach stained all down the front and it should be thrown away or used for a rag but I won't do it. This is the onsie she wore the first night she started sitting up on her own.
Enough said - Our first and not the last OU cheer outfit for halloween 08.
Brinley's first OU Football game!! Who could let such a thing go? Never I say!
Her sleeper from the last night in her pack and play in our bedroom. From here on out she's been in her room in a big girl crib! These are neatly folded under my bed so that they're always there to remind me!!
Brinley's first Christmas morning pajamas. She was SIIIICK! Had a head cold and sores under her nose from all the weeks of snot. But in true Brinley style she was still happy, excited to see you and continually curious about everything. These pajamas are supposed to be for 18 months but at 9 months they fit her perfectly! Go figure!
There are so many more that I can't 'Bear' to give up. I know my attic will be full of baby clothes but I just can't part with them. It would be like admitting that my baby is growing up and good heavens we can't have any of that!
She's going to be one year old in two days shy of a month. I feel like bawling and congratulating myself for making it thus far. I hope and pray that the next years of her life go by with as many memories and more! I can only pray that I'm there for the best and the worst for her and that she knows just how much her mommy loves her.
Someone stop her. She must not grow up.
Monday, February 9, 2009
Case of the Mondays
I hate working for women. If I could work for men my entire life I would be just fine. They tell you straight forward what they expect of you and are much less passive aggressive. Not my luck any more. I hate girls...drama drama drama!
Friday was a very bad day. The day started with arguments with my daycare lady, mid day I let my anger get the best of me and said some choice words at my boss and hung up on her and then ended with a very big bottle of wine and a three paged complaint letter to the head-hanchos about my boss. Yes that's right - I got a backbone and tried it on for size. Evidentaly it suits me. All weekend I worried about sending the letter and was in a panic about the results of my actions. I was told by a fine lady on Sunday night that Worry isn't God. So last night and this morning I gave it up. I prayed until I fell asleep last night and all morning getting ready and driving to work this morning. Finally I received a note from the head boss praising me for stepping forward and making myself heard. We spoke on the phone later and his legitimacy blew me away. What I said in the note was professional but honest and he appreciated that with sincerity. Only a God that loves the flawed could have turned this situation out this way. I am so grateful that He is my God.
Today's random fact: I still wear the promise ring Jason bought me on our two month anniversary.
Well I'm off to do some writing and post-work-work.
God is good - all the time.
Becki
Friday was a very bad day. The day started with arguments with my daycare lady, mid day I let my anger get the best of me and said some choice words at my boss and hung up on her and then ended with a very big bottle of wine and a three paged complaint letter to the head-hanchos about my boss. Yes that's right - I got a backbone and tried it on for size. Evidentaly it suits me. All weekend I worried about sending the letter and was in a panic about the results of my actions. I was told by a fine lady on Sunday night that Worry isn't God. So last night and this morning I gave it up. I prayed until I fell asleep last night and all morning getting ready and driving to work this morning. Finally I received a note from the head boss praising me for stepping forward and making myself heard. We spoke on the phone later and his legitimacy blew me away. What I said in the note was professional but honest and he appreciated that with sincerity. Only a God that loves the flawed could have turned this situation out this way. I am so grateful that He is my God.
Today's random fact: I still wear the promise ring Jason bought me on our two month anniversary.
Well I'm off to do some writing and post-work-work.
God is good - all the time.
Becki
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Advisement
Thinking about starting school back up part time. I had an appopintment with my advisor today and I can tell you that school is the last place Satan wants me right now. Everything was working against me all morning and when I was in the office listening to her go over everything I needed I had to resist the urge to throw up my hands and just walk out.
On the walk to the advisement offices Satan was litterally screaming at me. I could hear the insults, the negative thoughts, the insecurities and every foolish things he was trying as loud as an audible voice yelling at me. I sat in the lobby and waited as he continued. So instead of looking like a real idiot and yelling back I wrote back.
This is not your day – it is mine. I am here for my future, for the future of my children and for the betterment of my family. You have fought long and hard and no longer do you win. I am good enough for this. I am smart enough for this. I do deserve this. How dare you make me believe that I am not. I am a daughter of the King and you have no hold on me. I am here to serve the Lord and to bring His grace to students. Back off, back down and know that I am the Lord’s. My future is in HIS hands…..so long.
On the walk to the advisement offices Satan was litterally screaming at me. I could hear the insults, the negative thoughts, the insecurities and every foolish things he was trying as loud as an audible voice yelling at me. I sat in the lobby and waited as he continued. So instead of looking like a real idiot and yelling back I wrote back.
This is not your day – it is mine. I am here for my future, for the future of my children and for the betterment of my family. You have fought long and hard and no longer do you win. I am good enough for this. I am smart enough for this. I do deserve this. How dare you make me believe that I am not. I am a daughter of the King and you have no hold on me. I am here to serve the Lord and to bring His grace to students. Back off, back down and know that I am the Lord’s. My future is in HIS hands…..so long.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Who Is Really Dying?
Doing some scriptual research for Bridges and this hit me. Had to share.
Worrying about death, doesn't do any good. It only brings it faster. Why not live like we were given a second chance at life? Why not live like we have been given another life to live? Glorify the God that gives second life rather than mourn the loss of the physical. Work with all your heart and soul to show the world the love and goodness and forgiveness that can be found in Him. In these actions relief will be found. We have been saved, death holds no power. NOW GO! Save those that have not been saved from the iron fist of death and sin. Save those that have not been ministered to. They are the dying whereas we are just waiting to go home to our Father.
Worrying about death, doesn't do any good. It only brings it faster. Why not live like we were given a second chance at life? Why not live like we have been given another life to live? Glorify the God that gives second life rather than mourn the loss of the physical. Work with all your heart and soul to show the world the love and goodness and forgiveness that can be found in Him. In these actions relief will be found. We have been saved, death holds no power. NOW GO! Save those that have not been saved from the iron fist of death and sin. Save those that have not been ministered to. They are the dying whereas we are just waiting to go home to our Father.
Monday, January 12, 2009
Bridges
I was looking for a new desktop background the other day and I stubmbled upon this picture (see full size picture). I was sucked in and all of a sudden I was there. I popped open my word tablet and closed my eyes. My train of thought led me to a place my creative mind wouldn't have normally gone.
I was blessed with a new story and this was not just another one of my hobby stories about life and love gone wrong - this is the one that God has been telling me to write. The one I've been putting off because of hesitations in my own religious life. This is story is my battle.
Here's my train of thought as the beginning page.
Soaking.
The rush of the warm water covers her feet. The flecks of rain paint her face. The fresh salt of the wind chaps her lips.
Sinking.
Sand engulfs the entirety of her feet. Whispers of ocean secrets whip in her ears. Invigorating crisp air fills her tired lungs.
Silence.
Imagination rolls in synchronicity with the ocean. Rocks engraved with salty tear stains stand proudly beaten and worn in the lapping ocean. Whispering wings glide through the damp air in search of a meal.
Gray clouds of dark fill the bright sky.
This was her haven. This was where she longed to be when all her life was too much and everything seemed beyond her control. A quiet, peaceful place that brought calm to even the most distraught of all the tormented souls. Comfort rolled over her soul as the water rolled into the beach from the endless ocean.
Peace.
Nothing was big enough to interrupt her.
Norah.
Nothing but God.
Norah, my daughter.
Her eyes closed and she took in another salted breath. “Daddy, I’m here.”
I have always loved you.
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Servitude vs. Attitude
Just a little bit of scripture that just hit home for me. The story of Martha and Mary in Luke 10:38-42.
At the Home of Martha and Mary
38 As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. 39 She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet listening to what he said.
40 But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, “Lord, don't you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!”
41 “Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, 42 but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.”
Serving isn't about me. It isn't about my chance to play with little kids, it isn't about my chance to open up my living room for a lifegroup - it's about Him. It's so easy to drift into the self-centered view of serving. I hope that I can always remember that the second that God drifts from the center of my attention in serving self begins to take it's place. God has put me in places to serve and yet I do it week after week with the wrong attitude. Nearly every week I find myself secretly grumbling about getting up earlier, having to wipe snotty noses, carry clinging babies around for two hours and deal with rude parents in the nursery. Where do I get off complaining? For goodness sakes, Becki! He DIED for me and all I do is drag my feet to serve in the nursery. Ugh! Sometimes I just want to slap myself.
Here's to this month's resolution/goal - Maintaining a faithful heart of servitude for the right reasons without complaint. Realize that even a smile to a rude parent, a blot of a snotty nose or a few hours cradling a worried kid can and will convey the love of Christ when done with the Heart of Christ.
Dear Lord - Help me to be a Mary.
At the Home of Martha and Mary
38 As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. 39 She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet listening to what he said.
40 But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, “Lord, don't you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!”
41 “Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, 42 but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.”
Serving isn't about me. It isn't about my chance to play with little kids, it isn't about my chance to open up my living room for a lifegroup - it's about Him. It's so easy to drift into the self-centered view of serving. I hope that I can always remember that the second that God drifts from the center of my attention in serving self begins to take it's place. God has put me in places to serve and yet I do it week after week with the wrong attitude. Nearly every week I find myself secretly grumbling about getting up earlier, having to wipe snotty noses, carry clinging babies around for two hours and deal with rude parents in the nursery. Where do I get off complaining? For goodness sakes, Becki! He DIED for me and all I do is drag my feet to serve in the nursery. Ugh! Sometimes I just want to slap myself.
Here's to this month's resolution/goal - Maintaining a faithful heart of servitude for the right reasons without complaint. Realize that even a smile to a rude parent, a blot of a snotty nose or a few hours cradling a worried kid can and will convey the love of Christ when done with the Heart of Christ.
Dear Lord - Help me to be a Mary.
Psalm 144 Study (1-4)
Psalm 144 speaks volumes to me. Every time I read it I am reminded that I have a Father that is equipping me for every battle, every war, every stumble and every rock and a hard place I will face. The results may not always be what I want but they will always exactly be what My Father needs me to learn. Be it strength, patience, the value of pain, the comfort of His arms, faith in His silence and resilience of heart - He is teaching me something every day. He has equipped me with the armor and strength necessary and it's up to me to fight the battles.
I'm going to take a few days and go through Psalm 144 verse by verse and explain what it means to me. (I'm doing this in King James because it's BEAUTIFUL in King James).
Psalm 144
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1 A Psalm of David. Blessed be the Lord my Rock, Who trains my hands for war, And my fingers for battle— My Father knows that there are wars and battles beyond our physical beings. He not only has given us His strength to preserve in tough times but he has given us the spiritual brawn to fight the unseen. We have His resolve running through our veins. He has equipped us all the way down to the tips of our fingers, the tiniest appendage of our bodies, to fight and win. His faith in my ability to fight the unseen battles amazes me.
2 My lovingkindness and my fortress, My high tower and my deliverer,
My shield and the One in whom I take refuge,
Who subdues my people under me. Not only has He supplied me with everything I need to fight - He has provided me with a soft place to fall, arms to rest in, broad strong shoulders to cry on and a heart that listens and cares. It is in His name that I fight the battles presented to me in the flesh and the unseen; therefore it is also in His arms that I rest, take heart and refresh. In the most layman's of terms my God is my BandAid after a fight. He's my coach in the corner of the ring. He's my trainer telling me to get back on the horse and try again.
3 Lord, what is man, that You take knowledge of him?
Or the son of man, that You are mindful of him? Who am I to fight in YOUR namesake? Who am I but a flawed human girl that judges, swears, envies, lusts, lies and so forth? Who am I that He would even take the time to know my name and the number of hairs on my head? Who am I that I deserve His saving grace? Who am I but a flawed human? Who am I that He would take the time to give me the weapons necessary to fight the battles? WHO AM I THAT HE SHOULD LOVE ME? He tells me that I am His daughter. His bride. His warrior-princess. Not only does He love me unconditionally - He has saved me. What amazing grace He shows me.
4 Man is like a breath; His days are like a passing shadow. I was born fatally human. There are people all across the universe that are as I. I struggle to understand the reason that God has chosen ME to be a warrior for him. Why the weak immortal? Why not send down the angels? I believe it's because I am here to serve as a beacon for His love, grace and power. Through me, a mere mortal, His grace can be evident to others. Through me I hope that people can see that even though they are flawed they are loved. Even though they feel insignificant, He treasures them. Even though I am one of millions of His children, He counts my every breath. He knows my heart. How amazing is my Father? How amazing is it that He LOVES us so genuinely and so wholeheartedly that He calls us - fatally sinful mortals - His Daughters, Sons and Brides? How amazing is His Grace!
I'm going to take a few days and go through Psalm 144 verse by verse and explain what it means to me. (I'm doing this in King James because it's BEAUTIFUL in King James).
Psalm 144
undefined
1 A Psalm of David. Blessed be the Lord my Rock, Who trains my hands for war, And my fingers for battle— My Father knows that there are wars and battles beyond our physical beings. He not only has given us His strength to preserve in tough times but he has given us the spiritual brawn to fight the unseen. We have His resolve running through our veins. He has equipped us all the way down to the tips of our fingers, the tiniest appendage of our bodies, to fight and win. His faith in my ability to fight the unseen battles amazes me.
2 My lovingkindness and my fortress, My high tower and my deliverer,
My shield and the One in whom I take refuge,
Who subdues my people under me. Not only has He supplied me with everything I need to fight - He has provided me with a soft place to fall, arms to rest in, broad strong shoulders to cry on and a heart that listens and cares. It is in His name that I fight the battles presented to me in the flesh and the unseen; therefore it is also in His arms that I rest, take heart and refresh. In the most layman's of terms my God is my BandAid after a fight. He's my coach in the corner of the ring. He's my trainer telling me to get back on the horse and try again.
3 Lord, what is man, that You take knowledge of him?
Or the son of man, that You are mindful of him? Who am I to fight in YOUR namesake? Who am I but a flawed human girl that judges, swears, envies, lusts, lies and so forth? Who am I that He would even take the time to know my name and the number of hairs on my head? Who am I that I deserve His saving grace? Who am I but a flawed human? Who am I that He would take the time to give me the weapons necessary to fight the battles? WHO AM I THAT HE SHOULD LOVE ME? He tells me that I am His daughter. His bride. His warrior-princess. Not only does He love me unconditionally - He has saved me. What amazing grace He shows me.
4 Man is like a breath; His days are like a passing shadow. I was born fatally human. There are people all across the universe that are as I. I struggle to understand the reason that God has chosen ME to be a warrior for him. Why the weak immortal? Why not send down the angels? I believe it's because I am here to serve as a beacon for His love, grace and power. Through me, a mere mortal, His grace can be evident to others. Through me I hope that people can see that even though they are flawed they are loved. Even though they feel insignificant, He treasures them. Even though I am one of millions of His children, He counts my every breath. He knows my heart. How amazing is my Father? How amazing is it that He LOVES us so genuinely and so wholeheartedly that He calls us - fatally sinful mortals - His Daughters, Sons and Brides? How amazing is His Grace!
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Long time no posty.
I'v not posted in a very long time. I've been writing my brains out but not blogging. I forget how necessary this is sometimes. Wipe the slate clean - wax on and wax off.
As I mentioned I've been writing a lot recently. I'm up to a little over 350 pages in one novel, 50 in another and I have a few little ones in the plotting stages. It's such a wonderful release to be writing again. Jason always laughs whenever I try to explain to him how a creative mind works. I have a very hard time focusing on just one passion at a time. For example - I LOVE baking, I LOVE writing, I LOVE reading, I LOVE Jr. High kids - there are so many things I would much rather be doing with my life than pushing paper for xyz corp. This is the curse of the creative person I assume. Jason doesn't understand.. he's very structured, logical, fix it, leftt brained type of person. I try to explain my ways of thinking or my passions and he just looks at me and tells me I'm just like my dad - ouch. Oh well I guess there's no denying the truth.
As I mentioned I've been writing a lot recently. I'm up to a little over 350 pages in one novel, 50 in another and I have a few little ones in the plotting stages. It's such a wonderful release to be writing again. Jason always laughs whenever I try to explain to him how a creative mind works. I have a very hard time focusing on just one passion at a time. For example - I LOVE baking, I LOVE writing, I LOVE reading, I LOVE Jr. High kids - there are so many things I would much rather be doing with my life than pushing paper for xyz corp. This is the curse of the creative person I assume. Jason doesn't understand.. he's very structured, logical, fix it, leftt brained type of person. I try to explain my ways of thinking or my passions and he just looks at me and tells me I'm just like my dad - ouch. Oh well I guess there's no denying the truth.
Friday, November 7, 2008
1,000 Words: Exercise - Flat tire. Flat Hair.
Exercise: Write an opening scene in which your protagonist leaves work to discover that his/her tire is flat. As they're pulling the spare from the trunk a fellow co-worker, whom they have been secretly attracted to walks up and offers to help out.
Result: Flat Tire. Flat Hair.
“You have to be kidding me.”
There sat my incredibly average sedan, with an incredibly irritating flat tire.
I wanted to kick and scream like a three year old on the candy aisle. I felt like throwing down my bags, and crying. I had no idea how to change a flat tire, it was 6:45 PM, the parking garage was almost empty and I was now going to be late to Hannah's recital. I could just see the smug smile that would be plastered all over Darcy's face when she noticed I wasn't there for my own daughter's recital.
I stomped over to the car and opened the door with a loud squealing noise as if it were screaming out in agony. “Oh shut it.” I bit back as I tossed my purse and files in the passenger seat and began to take my jacket off. “You had to do this to me on the one day I wear a skirt, didn't you?” I questioned as if my sad little car were going to fight back. I pulled the trunk release and slammed my door shut to prove a point.
I continued to grumble loudly as I unloaded my trunk in an attempt to unearth the spare tire. Who knew I had so much stuff in my trunk. Embarrassing stuff for that matter. I brushed my hair out of my face after tossing an arm full of pink and white tutu's on the ground next to leotards, light pink tights and a little mermaid sleeping bag. When did my child decide that my trunk had become her changing room? The pink travesties continued to overflow from the back of my trunk until I saw enough of the gray interior to realize that I had made contact. I pulled open the lid and eyed the dark, greasy, spare tire. “Note to self – never wear a white skirt, ever ever again.” Karma was having way too much fun with me today. First a cup of coffee down the front of me during morning meeting, second a dropped yellow highlighter smudge from nowhere and now a big greasy tire and dirty parking garage floor.
I stood as far back as possible from myself as I pulled the tire out of the trunk. With a bounce I placed it on the ground and leaned it up against the car. My hands were now completely black and I eyed a pair of Hannah's pink colored tights as a hand towel. “Later.” I reminded myself. I returned to the trunk and removed the Jack and the big “x” shaped tool. I wasn't even going to pretend like I knew what I was doing here.
I eyed the oily ground next to the flat tire and realized that I would have to be on the ground to get the jack in the correct spot. After only a fleeting moment of hesitation I unrolled the little mermaid sleeping bag in front of the tire and sunk my way down to eye level with the tire as lady like as possible. I felt around for a firm place to place the jack, put it into position and began to pump as my car groaned.
The elevator hummed behind me as it pulled to a slow stop on my floor. “No. No. No. No. No!” I whispered to myself as I eyed the remaining cars in the parking lot. Boss, other boss, cute boss, and long-legs McGee were all that were left. I glanced around at my piles of pink tights, leotards, tulle tutu's and sleeping bags and wanted to run for it.
Too late. My conscious mocked me as I heard the doors open and a conversation flow out of it. I tried to remain as focused as I could and spent my time looking down at the “x” shaped tool to try to see which size end would fit over the bolts on my tire.
“Ms. Whitten?” My shoulders slumped and my insides churned. Cute boss. I sucked in a breath and threw on a “can-do-attitude” smile and turned to him. “Hi, Mr. Atkinson.”
“Let me call you back, sweetheart.” He said as put his brief case down and pulled his bluetooth from his ear. “Why didn't you tell me we were having a slumber party in the parking garage? I would have brought my tea set.” He grinned his perfect Harvard educated, Mercedes Benz driving grin.
“I was going to invite you but I wasn't sure if Little Mermaid and Ballet were your thing.” I answered.
“I'm more of a Sleeping Beauty person myself, but I think I can overlook that small detail.” He laid his pristine black jacket over the back of my car and knelt down beside me. “May I?” He held out his hand for the “x” shaped tool.
“Oh no, really, it's ok. I've got it under control.” I lied as I tried to force a bolt into an end of the tool that was apparently too small.
“Ms. Whitten?” He continued to smile. “What's the name of the tool in your hands?”
Damn. I knew I should have paid more attention the hundreds of times my father had told me how to change a tire. “Um, bolt remover crow bar thing?” I sighed hopelessly.
He chuckled and removed it from my hands. “Excuse me.” He said as he scooted closer to me on the sleeping bag and immediately placed the correct end of the tool on the bolt.
“Mr. Atkinson, you really don't have to do this.” I assured him as I picked myself up off of the ground. “I appreciate it but I know you probably have places to be and things to do.” Before I was able to finish the sentence I heard all 4 bolts fall to the ground.
“And you don't?” He asked without stopping. “You can call me Robert. I'm not sure there's a big need for formalities here considering we are in a dark parking garage on a Little Mermaid sleeping bag.”
“It's Leah.” I added. “Thank you.”
“Don't mention it.”
“Oh believe me. I won't.” I sighed.
He laughed and pulled the dead tire off. “Leah, your tires desperately need to be replaced. When was the last time you had them changed?”
I shrugged and rubbed my forehead. I could just feel the headache forming. “I've only had the car a month. I'm not sure how old they are.”
“You bought a car with tires like this? You didn't think to have new ones thrown in?” The spare was already on.
“The car was given to me.” I replied quietly.
“Well that was nice of someone. I would certainly hope that next time that someone would pay a bit more attention to matters that involve the safety of your little ballerina.”
I nodded.
Before I knew it the spare was bolted down and my car was groaning again as it settled into a more comfortable position. He picked himself up off the ground and placed the tools and dead tire back in the trunk. “All done.”
“Thank you. You really didn't have to.” I blushed as I began to pile the tulle and pink back into the trunk.
He smiled and folded up the sleeping bag and held it out for me. “Next time I expect a formal invitation.”
“I truly hope there is not a next time.” I groaned as I stuffed the sleeping bag into the last available cranny in the trunk and closed the door.
He picked up his jacket and pulled a handkerchief out of the inner pocket and held it out to me. “You have some grease on your forehead.”
I gasped as I took the handkerchief and assessed the situation in the reflection of my window. Flat strawberry red hair, crumpled shirt, make up that had it's fair share of the day and now a grease spot on my sweaty forehead. “Beautiful.” I scoffed as I did my best to rub it off. The harder I rubbed at it the more red my forehead got. Oh whatever. I gave up and returned the cloth. “Thanks.”
He nodded and wiped the grease off his hands. He tossed his jacket over his arm and picked up his black briefcase with a very quiet sigh. “Thanks for letting me tinker.”
“Any time.” I said slightly surprised.
“Have a good night, Leah.”
“Thank you, Mr. Atkins – Robert.” I corrected myself as I walked back to my door.
“My pleasure.” He smiled softly and began to walk to his dark blue Mercedes.
I climbed in my car and pulled the door closed softly. I jammed the key in the ignition and saw the clock light up.
7:15.
“Crap!” I turned the engine over and pulled out of my space before he had even made it to his car. As I made my way out of the parking garage I picked up my phone and dialed Sloan.
Result: Flat Tire. Flat Hair.
“You have to be kidding me.”
There sat my incredibly average sedan, with an incredibly irritating flat tire.
I wanted to kick and scream like a three year old on the candy aisle. I felt like throwing down my bags, and crying. I had no idea how to change a flat tire, it was 6:45 PM, the parking garage was almost empty and I was now going to be late to Hannah's recital. I could just see the smug smile that would be plastered all over Darcy's face when she noticed I wasn't there for my own daughter's recital.
I stomped over to the car and opened the door with a loud squealing noise as if it were screaming out in agony. “Oh shut it.” I bit back as I tossed my purse and files in the passenger seat and began to take my jacket off. “You had to do this to me on the one day I wear a skirt, didn't you?” I questioned as if my sad little car were going to fight back. I pulled the trunk release and slammed my door shut to prove a point.
I continued to grumble loudly as I unloaded my trunk in an attempt to unearth the spare tire. Who knew I had so much stuff in my trunk. Embarrassing stuff for that matter. I brushed my hair out of my face after tossing an arm full of pink and white tutu's on the ground next to leotards, light pink tights and a little mermaid sleeping bag. When did my child decide that my trunk had become her changing room? The pink travesties continued to overflow from the back of my trunk until I saw enough of the gray interior to realize that I had made contact. I pulled open the lid and eyed the dark, greasy, spare tire. “Note to self – never wear a white skirt, ever ever again.” Karma was having way too much fun with me today. First a cup of coffee down the front of me during morning meeting, second a dropped yellow highlighter smudge from nowhere and now a big greasy tire and dirty parking garage floor.
I stood as far back as possible from myself as I pulled the tire out of the trunk. With a bounce I placed it on the ground and leaned it up against the car. My hands were now completely black and I eyed a pair of Hannah's pink colored tights as a hand towel. “Later.” I reminded myself. I returned to the trunk and removed the Jack and the big “x” shaped tool. I wasn't even going to pretend like I knew what I was doing here.
I eyed the oily ground next to the flat tire and realized that I would have to be on the ground to get the jack in the correct spot. After only a fleeting moment of hesitation I unrolled the little mermaid sleeping bag in front of the tire and sunk my way down to eye level with the tire as lady like as possible. I felt around for a firm place to place the jack, put it into position and began to pump as my car groaned.
The elevator hummed behind me as it pulled to a slow stop on my floor. “No. No. No. No. No!” I whispered to myself as I eyed the remaining cars in the parking lot. Boss, other boss, cute boss, and long-legs McGee were all that were left. I glanced around at my piles of pink tights, leotards, tulle tutu's and sleeping bags and wanted to run for it.
Too late. My conscious mocked me as I heard the doors open and a conversation flow out of it. I tried to remain as focused as I could and spent my time looking down at the “x” shaped tool to try to see which size end would fit over the bolts on my tire.
“Ms. Whitten?” My shoulders slumped and my insides churned. Cute boss. I sucked in a breath and threw on a “can-do-attitude” smile and turned to him. “Hi, Mr. Atkinson.”
“Let me call you back, sweetheart.” He said as put his brief case down and pulled his bluetooth from his ear. “Why didn't you tell me we were having a slumber party in the parking garage? I would have brought my tea set.” He grinned his perfect Harvard educated, Mercedes Benz driving grin.
“I was going to invite you but I wasn't sure if Little Mermaid and Ballet were your thing.” I answered.
“I'm more of a Sleeping Beauty person myself, but I think I can overlook that small detail.” He laid his pristine black jacket over the back of my car and knelt down beside me. “May I?” He held out his hand for the “x” shaped tool.
“Oh no, really, it's ok. I've got it under control.” I lied as I tried to force a bolt into an end of the tool that was apparently too small.
“Ms. Whitten?” He continued to smile. “What's the name of the tool in your hands?”
Damn. I knew I should have paid more attention the hundreds of times my father had told me how to change a tire. “Um, bolt remover crow bar thing?” I sighed hopelessly.
He chuckled and removed it from my hands. “Excuse me.” He said as he scooted closer to me on the sleeping bag and immediately placed the correct end of the tool on the bolt.
“Mr. Atkinson, you really don't have to do this.” I assured him as I picked myself up off of the ground. “I appreciate it but I know you probably have places to be and things to do.” Before I was able to finish the sentence I heard all 4 bolts fall to the ground.
“And you don't?” He asked without stopping. “You can call me Robert. I'm not sure there's a big need for formalities here considering we are in a dark parking garage on a Little Mermaid sleeping bag.”
“It's Leah.” I added. “Thank you.”
“Don't mention it.”
“Oh believe me. I won't.” I sighed.
He laughed and pulled the dead tire off. “Leah, your tires desperately need to be replaced. When was the last time you had them changed?”
I shrugged and rubbed my forehead. I could just feel the headache forming. “I've only had the car a month. I'm not sure how old they are.”
“You bought a car with tires like this? You didn't think to have new ones thrown in?” The spare was already on.
“The car was given to me.” I replied quietly.
“Well that was nice of someone. I would certainly hope that next time that someone would pay a bit more attention to matters that involve the safety of your little ballerina.”
I nodded.
Before I knew it the spare was bolted down and my car was groaning again as it settled into a more comfortable position. He picked himself up off the ground and placed the tools and dead tire back in the trunk. “All done.”
“Thank you. You really didn't have to.” I blushed as I began to pile the tulle and pink back into the trunk.
He smiled and folded up the sleeping bag and held it out for me. “Next time I expect a formal invitation.”
“I truly hope there is not a next time.” I groaned as I stuffed the sleeping bag into the last available cranny in the trunk and closed the door.
He picked up his jacket and pulled a handkerchief out of the inner pocket and held it out to me. “You have some grease on your forehead.”
I gasped as I took the handkerchief and assessed the situation in the reflection of my window. Flat strawberry red hair, crumpled shirt, make up that had it's fair share of the day and now a grease spot on my sweaty forehead. “Beautiful.” I scoffed as I did my best to rub it off. The harder I rubbed at it the more red my forehead got. Oh whatever. I gave up and returned the cloth. “Thanks.”
He nodded and wiped the grease off his hands. He tossed his jacket over his arm and picked up his black briefcase with a very quiet sigh. “Thanks for letting me tinker.”
“Any time.” I said slightly surprised.
“Have a good night, Leah.”
“Thank you, Mr. Atkins – Robert.” I corrected myself as I walked back to my door.
“My pleasure.” He smiled softly and began to walk to his dark blue Mercedes.
I climbed in my car and pulled the door closed softly. I jammed the key in the ignition and saw the clock light up.
7:15.
“Crap!” I turned the engine over and pulled out of my space before he had even made it to his car. As I made my way out of the parking garage I picked up my phone and dialed Sloan.
1000 Words
So I got this creative writing book that is supposed to help you develop your writing skills. Every exercise is based off of a picture and gives you a simple plot to follow. You're supposed to write at least 1,000 words about the scene in the picture as you see it. So I have and I figure there is no better way to get feedback about my writing than to throw it on up here on the good ole blog. So I'm going to scan the picture and let you all read my 1,000 word exercises.
This is a big step for me. I would really like to get back into writing and I'm hoping that this helps me hone myself in and get back into the swing of writing like I used to. Please be honest and straightforward about whatever you read here. I appreciate it all!!
Becki
This is a big step for me. I would really like to get back into writing and I'm hoping that this helps me hone myself in and get back into the swing of writing like I used to. Please be honest and straightforward about whatever you read here. I appreciate it all!!
Becki
Sunday, August 24, 2008
JBF Sale
HOLY CRAPOLI PEOPLE!!! Everyone needs to get on this website www.jbfsale.com and find a sale in your area! I can't believe the bargains I found today! Almost all of the items I bought for bear still had original tickets on them. Old Navy, Gap, Carters, The Childrens Place, Gymboree, Starter, Kissy Kissy, Genuine Kids - and that's just the 6-12 month racks. Bouncy seats, high chairs, rocking horses, playmats/jungle gyms, pack n plays, strollers, car seats, cribs, crib sets, high chairs, bumbos, swings, exercausers, jumperoos, push toys and OH MY GOSH! SOO MUCH STUFF!!!! Formula, toys, bibs, puzzles, books, preast pumps, bottles, bath toys, bath seats, potty training seats, portable swings, halloween costumes, shoes, socks, barbie houses, playmate kitchen sets, play houses, dressers, beds - I could go on for days. All of it has to be inspected and approved before being put out on the sale floor. They are so meticulous! Nothing is stained nothing is scratched or shows any sign of wear and tear. It all looks sooooo brand new it's amazing.
Here is a slideshow of what I got bear today - all totaled $101 dollars!! The quality of everything just blows me away!!
http://s178.photobucket.com/albums/w276/bnewlon812/jbf/?action=view¤t=2168af91.pbw
Here is a slideshow of what I got bear today - all totaled $101 dollars!! The quality of everything just blows me away!!
http://s178.photobucket.com/albums/w276/bnewlon812/jbf/?action=view¤t=2168af91.pbw
Thursday, August 21, 2008
MMMMMMM
Wow. I can't believe its been a month since I've posted. It's flying by entirely too quickly around here.
Don't have much time as there are cakes in the oven, hungry husband on his way home and a sleeping 5 month old just on the verge of waking up.
Work is interesting these days. My boss is about to break the news to everyone that he's leaving the company. I don't know what to do yet. He's mentioned taking me with him to his new job but then again I keep getting mixed signals. I feel the push to get into the pastry industry very strongly the last couple days. I just don't know though. I have no start up capital, that would mean more debt. I wouldn't have any health insurance. I have no clue what the market is like around here and to be honest I don't have that much experience. I've baked for fun for over 12 years now but I don't know that I have what it takes to do it for an income. Aghh!! Giving the decision to Christ is what I have to do. Have I mentioned that I hate when things are out of my hands!!!
Well Jason just walked in the door and my cakes are about done in the oven. I had better run. I promise to post more than once a month!
:)
Don't have much time as there are cakes in the oven, hungry husband on his way home and a sleeping 5 month old just on the verge of waking up.
Work is interesting these days. My boss is about to break the news to everyone that he's leaving the company. I don't know what to do yet. He's mentioned taking me with him to his new job but then again I keep getting mixed signals. I feel the push to get into the pastry industry very strongly the last couple days. I just don't know though. I have no start up capital, that would mean more debt. I wouldn't have any health insurance. I have no clue what the market is like around here and to be honest I don't have that much experience. I've baked for fun for over 12 years now but I don't know that I have what it takes to do it for an income. Aghh!! Giving the decision to Christ is what I have to do. Have I mentioned that I hate when things are out of my hands!!!
Well Jason just walked in the door and my cakes are about done in the oven. I had better run. I promise to post more than once a month!
:)
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Bucket List
Today at church we discussed the movie Bucket List. We were asked to search our callings from Christ and discover what our 'bucket list' might entail. The first thoughts that come to my mind make me realize that my priorities are not where they should be. Not even close.
I want to have a house full of kids, I want to own my own bakery, I want to own a horse farm in Montana, I want to see my children get married and I want to ride off happily into the sunset with my husband.
What about that is pleasing to Christ? Nothing. I sat in church just broken. I realized that my life as I live it is in no way shape or form pleasing to Christ. What do I do to spread his word? What do I do to help the family of Christ grow? What do I do? Nothing. Plain and simple. I don't volunteer at church. I don't go to a lifegroup. I don't spend a lot of time outside of church in prayer. I go to church on Sundays, feel holy and pleased with myself on Mondays and I listen to Klove all week. What a slackjaw Christian I have become. I am the very epitome of what I dislike about Christianity. Then I sit here and I battle with myself. When do I have time for a lifegroup? I don't even have time to clean my house? When do I have time to volunteer? I don't want to go to a Lifegroup I'll get burned by Christian girls once again. I don't know as much about the Bible as half of the people in a Lifegroup. Why go? Can't the same thing be achieved at home?
I've been battling with myself long enough, people. I'm sick of it. I'm sick of being content. I want to be on fire. I want to burn with the passion of Christ. I want my daughter to grow up with an awe for her mom's relationship with Christ. I want to be the epitome of Christ's grace and love for the world to see. I want so much more than I am! I am called to be so much more than I am. So what now? How do I start?
I want to have a house full of kids, I want to own my own bakery, I want to own a horse farm in Montana, I want to see my children get married and I want to ride off happily into the sunset with my husband.
What about that is pleasing to Christ? Nothing. I sat in church just broken. I realized that my life as I live it is in no way shape or form pleasing to Christ. What do I do to spread his word? What do I do to help the family of Christ grow? What do I do? Nothing. Plain and simple. I don't volunteer at church. I don't go to a lifegroup. I don't spend a lot of time outside of church in prayer. I go to church on Sundays, feel holy and pleased with myself on Mondays and I listen to Klove all week. What a slackjaw Christian I have become. I am the very epitome of what I dislike about Christianity. Then I sit here and I battle with myself. When do I have time for a lifegroup? I don't even have time to clean my house? When do I have time to volunteer? I don't want to go to a Lifegroup I'll get burned by Christian girls once again. I don't know as much about the Bible as half of the people in a Lifegroup. Why go? Can't the same thing be achieved at home?
I've been battling with myself long enough, people. I'm sick of it. I'm sick of being content. I want to be on fire. I want to burn with the passion of Christ. I want my daughter to grow up with an awe for her mom's relationship with Christ. I want to be the epitome of Christ's grace and love for the world to see. I want so much more than I am! I am called to be so much more than I am. So what now? How do I start?
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