Author / Bethe

by Bethe

Grief

Death is a funny thing. You may have no clue it’s coming, and then BAM, it hits you. In my grandmother’s case, we knew for months, and the dying process seemed to crawl by. And then one day you wake up and it’s over.

So then you start the funeral preparations, calling in family, trying to get everything planned for the big event. Folks know what to do, how to help. They bring food. They tell stories.
But my grandmother didn’t want a funeral, and we are honoring our wishes. So instead of a predictable plan, we have had to figure out our own way to deal with the loss. For my family, it meant a fun family dinner that first night, first sharing some hard information, and then transitioning to some great belly laughs. My family is good at belly laughing. Then yesterday the women of the family went shopping. Ironic, because we aren’t a shopping family, but it was something to do, a mission we could conquer and something completely frivolous to enjoy after some stressful weeks.
I found the perfect area rug for my bedroom. And then suddenly I knew I had to paint my bedroom. And having a mission was a bit comforting–next thing I knew we were at the hardware store buying supplies, and then painting until almost midnight, sharing more belly laughs and reminiscing about fun family times of the past. So less than a day after we went shopping, my room looks completely different, and I feel a huge sense of accomplishment. And control. And that is strangely comforting.
More fun family things are planned for tonight. It’s amazing how a very full schedule can suddenly and immediately clear itself with one brush stroke, replacing obligations with simply resting and bonding. Loss is never easy, but it’s a wonderful reminder to enjoy the people around me. And it’s a reminder that because of my faith, I can have hope.
by Bethe

Africa

I want to go to Africa in 2010. More specifically, I want to go on a mission trip to Tanzania with my church. I had a few things that I worried might hinder my traveling (first and foremost, my annoying and currently uncontrollable asthma issues) but I have started finding solutions to what I thought were closed doors. I’m a bit terrified of the idea of traveling to the wilderness for two weeks, but my heart is aching to go.

Last night I had dinner with my wonderful Christian parents–both leaders in their church and big advocates for spreading the gospel. Here is what our conversation looked like:
Dad – So you really want to go to Africa, huh?
Me – Yep. I really want to go.
Dad – You know what happens to folks who go to Africa… they all come home wanting to adopt an African orphan.
Me – Oh really? Would that be so horrible?
Dad – Nah. I’d watch him for you.
Me – Well it’s settled then. Africa, here I come!
by Bethe

San Diego

Just got home from my last trip of the year. After adventures in Miami, Colorado, California, Greece, Italy, Spain, and Croatia, I think I’m ready to hole up in my house for a little while and cocoon. I’m only a month away from being done with school, and between now and then all I want to do is hide and nest and eat cereal.

But San Diego was plenty beautiful. I’ll upload pics soon (have you noticed I often promise pics and rarely post? It’s because I know all of you probably see them on Facebook, and it takes too long to upload them twice). But I’ll do my best to upload them. Really. Probably. While I was in San Diego I walked along the beach in front of the famous Hotel del Coronado, I ate the most splendid Spanish food at a spot in the Gas Lamp District, and I enjoyed seeing several hundred marines at my hotel one evening for a marine ball. Many had come alone, it was just a darn shame that I hadn’t packed my cocktail dress in that humongous suitcase of mine. Sigh… maybe next time.
I also got to speak at the national PRSA Conference. That was a bit of a career highlight for me–2,000 public relations gurus at my industry’s largest conference of the year, and somehow I ended up getting a bio in the event guide! I only spoke at a break-out session, nothing huge, but still it was one of those neat resume-building experiences that I’ll probably never do again. All in all, it was a pretty nice trip indeed.
Back to the cocoon… I will see you in mid-December.
by Bethe

Rough Week

If I were to rank my weeks on a scale of 1-to-stellar, I would say this one was in the toilet. Weird things happened, nothing went right, and every time I turned around, I got more bad news. To top it off, today I had to take my beloved dog Harley that I’ve had for the past seven years to the emergency animal hospital to have his stomach pumped. I thought I had closed my pantry door, and the little guy never gets in the kitchen trash, but apparently I didn’t, and he did, and he scavenged some old coffee grounds from yesterday’s brew while I was away at church. Coffee grounds are toxic to dogs, can cause a rapid heart rate, seizures or death.

Harley is not a person, he’s only a dog, and I realize this. But he’s also been my little guy for the past seven years–he has seen me through so many life changes, seven different moves, more boyfriends than I’d care to mention, two jobs, 12 graduate classes… and he’s just a really good companion.
So my heart has broken for my little puppy tonight, as the vet pumped his stomach, gave him charcoal to absorb the rest, then put him on IVs and a catheter. And now we wait. We wait to see if my little guy will pull through and come back home to see me through more boyfriends and jobs and life events and afternoons playing fetch in the sunshine.
What’s crazy is that even during a really crummy week–and trust me, this one has been really crummy–I’m still so encouraged because I can have hope.

Our mouths were filled with laughter,
our tongues with songs of joy.
Then it was said among the nations,
“The Lord has done great things for them.”
(Psalm 126:2)

I taught on Psalm 126 last week in Sunday School, and I have experienced times of joy that were so great that my only reaction could be one of unbridled emotion… delighting in just how amazing my God has been. It’s crazy, because I experienced that very recently.

Restore our fortunes, O Lord,
like streams in the Negev.
Those who sow in tears
will reap with songs of joy.
(Psalm 126: 4-5)

I’ve also been here… where I’m waiting and asking my God to restore things back to the way they were in the good times… in a way that only he can do. Just like the streams in the Negev (desert) could only happen after a bountiful rain, something only he could orchestrate.

I love this Psalm, because it shows both sides. The author has experienced God’s awesomeness in the past, and knows he will experience it again in the future. But now he’s waiting… waiting and begging, and in the meantime, even though things are rough, he’s still sowing. Sowing when it’s hard, because he knows he can’t reap without first sowing. Sowing in a time that’s so hard he can can’t help but cry, and yet he continues to sow that seed. Because one day the harvest will come.

So when times are really good in my life, I praise a God who blesses abundantly. When things really stink–like tonight–I still praise my God because he is near to the brokenhearted, because I have a God who knows the sadness I feel about a poor, sick dog, and because his plan is so much more beautiful than anything that I can muster up. And so I will praise him, and I will sow.

by Bethe

This time…

I worked a 15-hour day on Tuesday. Okay, confession, three of those hours were spent sitting in class. But that’s a whole lot like work (especially because I was still wearing my work clothes), so I’m going to just lump that in with the other 12 hours. I got to work at 7 a.m. and got home at 10 p.m. Yeah… a long day.

Which might explain why I accidentally ran into a store display at the gas station. I had to stop and get gas about 9 p.m. right before I headed back to the office to take care of a few last things, and decided to run inside to grab a Gatorade to hold me over until dinner (yeah… no dinner until 10… I’ve started eating that late about three times a week… great for the figure I’m sure). Anyway, I was in a total rush, as usual, and so tired that I wasn’t being very careful, and just plowed right into a big store display of chips and candy bars. I have a nice big bruise on my hip to prove it. Off came the candy bars, scattering all over the floor, as the other customers–all there to buy their beer and lottery tickets–stopped and stared at me in unison… giving me that judgmental, “Uh huh, I bet she’s drunk” look. Awesome.
But I have good news… 36 days until all of my assignments are turned in, my thesis is defended, and I am DONE FOREVER with school. That’s just five weeks from tomorrow. Praise Jesus!
by Bethe

The zucchini’s evil twin

I have become a huge fan of the sauteed zucchini… I saute it in extra-virgin olive oil that I brought back from my trip to Greece last summer. It may not be the most low-fat way to prepare it, but it tastes amazing, and at least it’s not a french fry.

So you can imagine my shock when I took my first bite of zucchini on Saturday… only to find that it was a cucumber! That’s right… I had sauteed a cucumber in Greek olive oil. I swear, they look EXACTLY ALIKE!
Even worse… I was hungry, and low on food, so I went ahead and ate it. Kids, don’t try that at home.
by Bethe

Weary

Oh how I am so very tired… three nights in a row of not coming home to eat dinner until 10:00. It’s crunch time at school, with only 58 days left until my graduation, 43 until I defend my thesis. I have four papers due in the next six weeks, not to mention an intense month at work, and two big trips (just got home from a fabulous mountain adventure in Colorado, and soon will jet off to San Diego to speak at a national conference!). Because of board retreats, leadership trainings, committee/non-profit work and my travels, I’m averaging about three days a week of work, and two days of “other.” Since five days worth of work must still be done each week, it means I’m staying most nights until 7:00, bringing home work with me, and sleeping almost never.

But as tired as I may be, I know where I can go to find true rest.
Jeremiah 31:25 – “I will refresh the weary and satisfy the faint.”
Galatians 7:9 – “Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.”
Luke 1:49 – “For the Mighty One has done great things for me; and holy is His name.”
by Bethe

People like to say SALSA

Every time I mention salsa class, I think about that awesome Seinfeld episode:

GEORGE: “Why don’t they have salsa on the table?”

JERRY: “What do you need salsa for?”

GEORGE: “Salsa is now the number one condiment in America.”

JERRY: “You know why? Because people like to say “salsa.” “Excuse me, do
you have any salsa?” “We need more salsa.” “Where is the salsa? No salsa?”

GEORGE: “You know it must be impossible for a Spanish person to order
seltzer and not get salsa. “I wanted seltzer, not salsa!”

JERRY: “Don’t you know the difference between seltzer and salsa? You
have the seltezer after the salsa!”

GEORGE: “See, this should be a show. This is the show.”


See, how could you not just LOVE Seinfeld?

And I also really do love my salsa class. For 90 minutes, once a week, I get to go clubbing… at 7:00 in the evening, in a smoke-free, alcohol-free environment, where everybody is super nice, nobody gropes you, the men are polite, and the music isn’t deafening. It’s good stuff.

by Bethe

You can call me Orange Face

It’s that time of the year. My beautiful summer tan has begun to fade. I’m no longer spending long afternoons by the pool or sunning myself at the lake, and I’m quickly turning white. White.

But give me another month, and I’ll be even more pale. Which is why I’ve got a dilemma. I bought my makeup back when my face was a golden tan. Now it doesn’t match my skintone. But if I buy new makeup now, in another month it won’t match. So what’s a girl to do? These past few days I’ve noticed that “fake” look that comes from wearing makeup that’s too dark, but I’m on a budget. So at this point I’m going to try to suffer through for another week or two, and then just “wing it” at the MAC counter.
So if you see me and my orange face, please know that I know. And just do your best to pretend not to notice.