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by Bethe

Snow Day & Guitar Hero

We had a wonderfully lazy Christmas today. We slept in, ate a huge breakfast, finally got around to opening presents around 11:00. Then we ate some more, took marathon naps, and topped off the day with a little… guitar hero.

I’ve secretly always dreamed of becoming a rock star. Unfortunately, I wasn’t blessed with the ability to sing, play a musical instrument, dance… about the only thing I can do is wear sparkles well.
But not today. Today… I was a true rock star.
Merry Christmas from snowy Texas! This Christmas was one of my favorites!
by Bethe

Review & other various things

I was looking back on some of my old blogs today, and it was quite interesting. Of course, a major theme over these past two years that I’ve kept this thing is how nutty my life has been, juggling school and work and the rest of life. What I also noticed, however, was that every few months I would write a “cocoon” blog where I would talk about hiding out for 24-48 hours, being quiet, recharging my batteries, and then reemerging more energetic than before.

Sometimes we don’t notice a pattern in the midst of our actions, but it takes reflection… some context… to realize we’ve been there before. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with hiding out for a day or two (much better in my opinion than spiraling into a depression, which is absolutely NOT what I do when I rest), but it also serves as a neon flashing arrow that points to times in my life when I am overdoing it. And I tend to overdo it, because I don’t want to miss out on any of the fun that’s there to be had. I want to do it all, to live a full and meaningful life. But I have to continually force myself to slow down a bit. Those cocoon times are some of the sweetest times for me, because they’re so rare and different. I thoroughly enjoyed last week, where I went to bed early every night, read lot’s of my book (Wuthering Heights… loving it), and didn’t really talk to anybody except for work folks and my family. By Friday’s Christmas party, I was rearing to go! I’m back with the living, and back with a renewed zeal. Heck, I’m even working out again! I decided to jumpstart those New Year’s resolutions about three weeks early.
So enough of that. Tonight I worked on my Christmas cards. I’m about a week behind in all of my Christmas activities, but I suspect everybody else is too, and I’m choosing to employ our famous family motto of “good enough” on this one. People will be getting cards, signed with love, and it won’t matter much that they may arrive just a few days before Christmas. I figure anything that hits homes before Dec. 31 totally counts.
Speaking of family mottos… my family has the best family mottos. And we sure have a lot. Here’s just a few that you probably hear me throw down in casual conversation on a regular basis:
Good enough
definition: Stop being an overachiever!
Get over it!
Emphasis on the OVER… usually accompanied with a snap or head bob. We usually say this in reference to other people outside the family.
Don’t waste the pretty.
definition: Giiirrrl, time to get over him, because either (a) you need to dump the poor boy because he’s no good for you, or (b) he’s just not that into you, he’s never going to date you, so move on to someone else! You can imagine my euphoria when I found out last week titled Don’t waste the pretty. Awesome.
Let it go, and let it flow.
definition: Similar to “good enough” but also means that it’s time to stop trying to control something and just let things happen as they may. Contrary to popular belief, this has nothing to do with going to the bathroom.
Keep hope alive.
(this is always, always accompanied by a fist pump)
Mama’s gotta eat.
A term used when you have to do something you don’t love at work, but you keep on keeping on because you want to keep said job.
I can sell you ugly, but I will not sell you dumb.
This one doesn’t really need defining.
Stupid boy.
This is one my dad likes to sing to us whenever any guy does anything wrong… quoting the Keith Urban lyrics. Just one of the many reasons why our dad is absolutely adorable.
So that’s it. When the six of us get together, we spout these babies off every other sentence. The more head bobbing and snapping the better.
by Bethe

Almost recharged

Man, what a crash! My body has been aching for sleep… I feel like I am soaking it up like a sponge. Two nights ago I slept for ten hours… on a work night! That’s only possible when you’re asleep by 8:30… something I haven’t done in years.

And it was wonderful.
I’m almost fully recharged… just a few more days of rest and I’ll be
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

It’s good to be back

I’m all better… the swine flu has been conquered, life goes on and today I got to go back to work. Being away reminds me of how much I love my job and how thankful I am that I get to do really interesting work, and I get to work with people that feel like an extension of my family. My boss came by just to tell me that I’ve been missed (and to mock me a little for my plague/flu bug). My coworkers sent me emails telling me they were happy 

by Bethe
Last year I ran a half marathon. My goal was to finish without dying or puking, and somehow I managed to avoid both. It was a wonderful experience and a great test of my own personal resolve and work ethic. Just when I thought I was a big, lazy whimp
ast year I ran a half marathon. My goal was to finish without dying or puking, and somehow I managed to avoid both. It was a wonderful experience and a great test of my own personal resolve and work ethic. Just when I thought I was a big, lazy nothing, I somehow trained to run 13 miles. Go me.

But that was last year. This year, I needed a new challenge. So I have chosen a different sport, one that I am equally as clueless about, but one that I think will take me far in life.
I’m learning to salsa.
Two friends and I are taking weekly salsa lessons from a leading salsa instructor. Every Monday night you’ll find me in my strappy high heels, jeans, and a tank top (a la Dancing With the Stars), shaking my tushy to the reggae flavor of the month. Luis, my teacher, is fabulous, and his class is a hoot. It looks like you may find me at the local salsa club on the weekends, dancing it up with my new-found friends. Who knows, maybe I’ll find myself a latin lover and kiss the single life goodbye… all because of my salsa class.
Nah, probably not. But it’s still excellent exercise and provides endless amounts of entertainment

by Bethe

My half-marathon replacement

Last year I ran a half marathon. My goal was to finish without dying or puking, and somehow I managed to avoid both. It was a wonderful experience and a great test of my own personal resolve and work ethic. Just when I thought I was a big, lazy nothing, I somehow trained to run 13 miles. Go me.

But that was last year. This year, I needed a new challenge. So I have chosen a different sport, one that I am equally as clueless about, but one that I think will take me far in life.
I’m learning to salsa.
Two friends and I are taking weekly salsa lessons from a leading salsa instructor. Every Monday night you’ll find me in my strappy high heels, jeans, and a tank top (a la Dancing With the Stars), shaking my tushy to the reggae flavor of the month. Luis, my teacher, is fabulous, and his class is a hoot. It looks like you may find me at the local salsa club on the weekends, dancing it up with my new-found friends. Who knows, maybe I’ll find myself a latin lover and kiss the single life goodbye… all because of my salsa class.
Nah, probably not. But it’s still excellent exercise and provides endless amounts of entertainment
by Bethe

Sick Day

I’m having a wonderfully enjoyable sick day at home, listening to the rain dance on my windows and enjoying a day of lounging around and not doing much.

Of course, my mind is racing with a huge, long list of to-do items, but I realize that most of those things will have to wait. Today I’m just going to rest. And maybe work on a road trip play list for my trip to float the river this coming weekend.
Last night I had a bit of an asthma scare that took me to the ER… I literally could not breathe (I’ll admit, I was scared), but after three breathing treatments and more steroids than a Yankee power hitter, I’m feeling much better. Exhausted since I was up all night, but breathing normally and with only a trace of that old lady smoker’s cough I had been sporting all weekend. So attractive. I’ve had my asthma my whole life, and had been proud of my record of zero ER visits–I take great pride in being able to treat my asthma with some prescription drugs, a little caffeine (it can work wonders) and just lying still and staying calm. But last night none of that seemed to work, so off I went, in my PJs and without any makeup. I’m sure all of my coworkers in the ER were quite shocked to see what I really look like under my beloved MAC concealer and mascara. It ain’t that pretty, folks. 
Today Beth Moore posted the most wonderful blog… you’ll have to check it out for yourself. I completely agree with her premise that our God is a God of details. His timing is perfect, and he can perform great and mighty miracles. But he also performs little miracles that minister to me in exactly the way I need it.
For instance… one time I was really grieving over a broken relationship. My heart was broken, and I mean BROKEN. One night, at my lowest point, I had a dream that the boy’s mom came to visit me and told me that I would be okay. That I was going to be fine, that she still loved me (I was very close to this guy’s mom and missed her dearly) and that I would be much better off following God’s plan for me, which didn’t include this boy. For some reason, that dream brought me so much more comfort than anything my friends or family could tell me. I really believe God orchestrated that silly little dream to comfort his grieving child and renew my spirit so I could keep plugging along.
Another time, I got this overwhelming urge to call a girl who used to be in my Sunday School class. She had stopped coming a few months previously, and honestly I had been so busy that I hadn’t followed up with her like I should. But one night, it just hit me as I was heading home from an errand that I should call this girl NOW. Not knowing why, I picked up the phone and called the girl, only to find out that she was in a total crisis and needed help that very night. Within a few hours some of our other girls had rallied together to help this gal get through what was probably one of the hardest weeks of her life. I take no credit, I just followed what I know was the Holy Spirit’s very persistent push. Luckily, sometimes he speaks so loudly that even this dense blonde girl can hear it.