Monday, October 29, 2007

I Understand Some Things....

....but some things I don't.

For instance, I don't understand why 75% of the time I drink coffee, it slips out of the cup and onto my shirt. I don't understand why, in an age of increased safety measures such as bicycle helmets and car seats until a child is almost fully grown, there is a general acceptance of tennis shoes with wheels on them. I don't understand why I didn't stick to a simple topic, like my classmates, who chose things such as dress codes and local school issues, for my Ministry of Writing opinon paper, but instead thought it was a good idea to tackle government-funded HMOs.

But I do understand that I know some pretty cool people.

In the past month I have been up to Altoona, PA twice. While the circumstances weren't ideal, I did get a chance to meet some very cool family members (or re-meet since I apparently met most of them before my ability to form memories became a regular facet in my brain).

What is my dad's cousin's relationship to me? Is she my second cousin? Is she my great cousin? Is she my cousin twice removed with a tulip garden? Well, anyway, her name is Sharon, and regardless of what exact relation she is to me, she is rather spectacular.

I have heard about her for years, but I had never met her. I finally did, and she's hilarious! She also understands my passion for urban ministry and took me on a short walk around the block of her church's neighborhood during the dinner after my grandma's funeral. She could have been doing a million things, but she took time out to do that for me. She really took care of my grandma and has helped my family out in so many ways. Maybe one day I'll just show up on her doorstep for a visit.

Then there's another of my dad's cousins, Tim, and his wife Jenny. They do mission work in the Dominican Republic and they live just a couple of hours outside of Chicago! I can hardly beleive these amazing people were just a train ride away all last semester and I didn't even know it!

I re-met a lot of people who loved my grandma. Usually they would say, "You must be Bill's kids" because I was standing by my brother and he "looks just like [my] dad!" One lady tried to explain her relation to me by saying how she was related to someone else, but I didn't know who that someone else was, so I just smiled and received a hug.

So many people told me that they read my stories and poems. I was very suprised at this and tried to think about what they possibly could have read, because I want to read it too! Apparently my grandma had a plethora of my writing endeavors from over the years and gladly shared them.

When Sharon spoke at the funeral, she told all the grandchildren how proud Grandma had been of us. I really didn't know Grandma was that proud of us, but now I do. Sharon might have thought she was reminding us of something we already knew, but I discovered in a bright, new light more of how pround of all of us Grandma really was.

I'm really rather blessed to have such a great family. My dad has about a bazillion cousins (Grandma had 9 others brothers and sisters who had kids) and I couldn't list them all if I tried. Yet, it was rather neat to re-meet all these people who remembered me, even if I felt like I was seeing them for the first time. Plus I got to meet a good childhood friend of my dad's who helped my father coerce their children's Sunday School class into continually electing them as President and Vice-President, and letting any challengers "know how it was" in that class.

I got to see a family tree from Grandma's side of the family. Her parents were both born in 1882, so I was born 100 years- to the year- after my great-grandparents. You know what else? My grandma once told me her grandfather had been in the ministry. So I am going into the same vocation as my great, great grandpa.

I have long since been interested in my family history, now I really want to explore it. Maybe one of my ancestors buried a trunk with an obsene amount of money, even by today's standards, as a type of fund for their, great, great, great, great grandaughter to pay off her college loans. Yea, and maybe I'm related to the queen of England.

Saturday, October 27, 2007

Details Please

I don't think of myself as poor, but when I can't afford the advertised price of a chicken biscuit combo at Bojangles, it sure seems that way.

The Bojangles in Lillington, NC usually lists prices for special meals on it's marquee sign. Right now a chicken fillet combo is $429. Last week I saw a meal deal that was $1599.

I don't know about you, but I can't afford that.

Or maybe they just can't afford decimals.

Sunday, October 21, 2007

I've Heard Rules About No Shoes and No Shirt.....But No Pants?

I planned on blogging about other things, but I know a good blog story when I see one.

I gave my house key to a friend to watch the dogs while my family was away. I got the key back, but failed to put it on my keyring. I got home tonight about midnight. The front door was locked.

No problem. This had happened before. I went around to the side and dropped my things, including my laptop (which I tried super hard to lower to the ground as far as could be), over the fence. Then I started to climb.

I was wearing gaucho pants. For many who have seen "Never Been Kissed," you probably know that gaucho pants are very wide-legged pants that are almost like a skirt. Their particular fabric makes them very flowy.

Gaucho pants do not make good climbing pants. I got one leg over the fence and had a hard time getting the rest of the way over. But I had done this before. So I tried a new tactic. I kicked off my flip flops so my feet could more easily fit into the holes on the chainlink fence.

That was a bad idea. While my feet fit in more easily, I could not get a good grip. The fence would get me between the toes and it just plain hurt doing it that way. I decided to abandon my fence climb, but upon getting down I realized my gaucho pants were stuck in about two or three places.

So there I was, my body bent over the top of the fence. I was stuck. I pulled and maneuvered my pants off the chain link structure and got down. But I was still outside the fence. I got an idea. If I took my pants off they couldn't get stuck. Now, as a 10-year-old I was the only one I know of in my gym class who refused to do summersaults for fear of breaking my neck. Trust me, climbing this fence brought similar concerns. Yes, I pray when I climb fences, which is not often. All that to say, I could just imagine my family finding me the next morning in my underwear, wondering how on earth it all happened.

But still, I wanted to get inside. I went to the front door and rang the doorbell many times. No answer. Calling on my cellphone was a good idea. Too bad I locked it in my car and had dropped my keys over the fence with my things. We have no neighbor on one side of our house, so I did what any Frederick might do. I went around the house and took off my pants.

In the light of the moon I attempted to climb the fence in my underwear. I knew better than to drop my pants on the other side of the fence, so I held onto them with a firm bite. It didn't work. I had one flip flop that I had dropped outside the fence, but the climb hurt my other bare foot so much. So I put my pants back on and rang the doorbell more. No answer. I began to think my parents were trying to teach me a lesson.

Fine, I would try again. I had bent the fence on my first climbing attempt of the night(Heh...heh....dad, think of it as a memory maker), but I wanted to get in and if they weren't gonna answer the door I needed to find a way.

I went back to the side of the house and took my pants off again. By the light of the moon I again attempted to climb the fence in my underwear. I tried putting the flip flop on the wrong foot, because that was the one that took the most force when I tried to get the rest of my body over the fence. I couldn't do it, my bare foot hurt too bad.

I put my pants back on and weighed my options. I could put the flip flop on my right foot, get my leg over and transfer the shoe to my left. Or I could ring the doorbell. I opted for the latter. But as I was walking back to the front door I decided I should just knock on the bathroom window. I did, it set the dogs off, and got my mom to the front door.

"Sorry." I told my mom and slipped inside.

And that, my friends, is the story of the first time I took my pants off and tried to climb a fence.

Tuesday, October 16, 2007

Watch Out For That Grill

"Dad, I can't do it."

"Yes you can. Use your mirrors."

When learning to drive, my dad taught me to back up the car by backing up into camping spaces. I usually had to try multiple times to get in straight and looking back, I'm pretty sure no one else's dad took his child to the woods to learn to drive.

As I whipped out of my driveway in reverse the other day, I thought that maybe, just maybe dad's campground driver's ed was useful.

Oh the simplicity of back roads, a state park, and dad in the passenger's seat.

Wednesday, October 10, 2007

Hand in the Toy Machine and Other News of the Weird

You know those game machines that have the claw and you have to try and grab a stuffed animal after putting in your quarters? I know those very well. I got stuck in one.

It was at a mom and pop ice cream shop around the time I was 5. I wasn't going to steal, I was just curious if I could touch a toy, were I to shove my arm up through the little trap door.

Problem was, my arm didn't come back out. It wasn't until rescue personel came to help that I was free from that rather odd encounter.

Fast forward a bit. I went on an overnight field trip with my fifth grade class. I woke up with a blurry spot in my eye. Twas a tick, right where you might put some eyeliner. I still think I am missing an eyelash from where they had to lay me on the table and pull it off me.

Fast forward a little more. My brother was on a community baseball team and I loved to read. "Heads up!" They called and everyone cleared the bench. My nose in a book, I just slid over a couple feet. The ball landed right on my head.

At the emergency room the doctor asked me to count backwards from 100 to 1 by 7's. I got to 93 and was stumped.

If you want to fast forward even farther you can check out my very first blog site at http://rebeccalee782.livejournal.com/ and read about why the whole cast of Whinnie the Pooh has a mental condition or how I saw what could easily be explained as a possible pigeon murder. There are also entries about my travels around the country, but for a lot of them you have to go pretty far back.

I refuse to be dull.

Friday, October 5, 2007

Celebrate Truth

I have a memory. I was 10 and about to graduate from the 5th grade. Sitting at the dinner table I asked my dad if I could have a new dress for graduation. He answered yes, as if it was one of the most appropriate things I could have and I was thrilled to go pick out a dress at the store.

Shortly thereafter I found out my grandma would be making my dress. Let's just say I was a little disappointed. There were so many frilly dresses with lace and ribbons and I really wanted one of those.

Then the dress my grandma made arrived.

I looked at it. It was the most beautiful dress I had ever seen. It was a light purple, and to this day I am enamoured by purple. I would lay in bed at night and look at that dress in my closest and think about how pretty it was and how I couldn't wait to wear it.

I wore it to my graduation and also wore it to Chuck-E-Cheese because I insisted I wanted to eat there. I remember wanting more dresses just like it and my mom tried to tell me that as I got older dress styles would change.

I was reminded of that story tonight. I'm in Altoona, PA right now, the home of my father's side of the family. Grandma isn't doing so well and tonight we held her hands and touched her face and I realized something.

She is one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen.

I didn't pick up on it for so long. She was just grandma all my life. I loved her, she loved me. Yet, like that dress, I didn't quite expect the beauty that was there. I saw it tonight.

As I watched her in her bed, happy to see us, somewhat coherent as to who we were, I once again realized that apart from Christ there is no point. Seeing a loved one go through the dying process intensified my desire for God because I know where she will be soon. She is here now, but not for long.

Soon she will be with all her brothers and sisters in Christ who went on before her. But most of all, she will be with her Creator.

You know something she said recently? "I have nothing to complain about because Christ suffered so much more."

What faith.

My family and I will join her too. We will see our Creator. We will have no more fear. We will laugh and dance.

Celebrate truth.

Thursday, October 4, 2007

Scrabble

A few of my friends have taken to playing Scrabble on Facebook and anytime I think of Scrabble, I think of Waco, TX.

Random, eh? Not so much. At Mission Waco's homeless shelter, a group would often be playing scrabble before heading off to bed.

One memory in particular stands out. Roy was incredibly smart and usually had amazing words to make with his letters. I say "usually" because one time he came up with a word that can still make me laugh to this day.

Glover. Many insisted that wasn't a word. His response? "Glover. One who gloves." I think he was going for the baseball player catching a ground ball image.

We kept a dictionary around and I can't remember if they looked it up, but I'm pretty sure the word didn't count.

Hilarious.

Tuesday, October 2, 2007

What Can I Say? It's a Passion

So I took some me time tonight. In the fullest semester I think I've ever had, I have not had time (or gas money) to make the trip I love- Barnes and Noble.

Reading and I have quite the relationship. Mom started it by making frog croaks during "Berenstain Bears in the Dark" and it continued through summer reading programs and books mom bought me.

Reading and I hit a rough patch in high school, but by college I had discovered Lawana Blackwell and was back in the game. When I took that semester off from undergrad and waited weeks till I started a job, books were a constant companion.

Sometimes I think God speaks to me through what I read; even fiction. I can see the spines of books and they remind of me of another time in life when I read them. I can get emotional over books. I can also hate them (i.e. certain textbooks).

But tonight I did something that I've needed. I got in the car and went somewhere by myself and ordered the largest white mocha frappachino on the menu and settled into an arm chair. I was there for hours.

God did speak to me tonight and I feel refreshed, more certain of who I am in Him.

Maybe my passion for words is why Psalms is one of my favorite books in the Bible. The way it captures just about every human emotion is fascinating.

Yea, reading isn't just a pastime. It's a passion.

Monday, October 1, 2007

This Too Shall Pass

I am a jealous person. I know it's wrong, but I can't seem to help it. I don't get jealous over clothes or cars or most material possessions. I get jealous over relationships and spirituality. Maybe envious is a better word, or maybe its the same thing.

In many ways I feel like a life-long cheerleader. Not the kind that puts her hair in a pony tail and dons a skirt for a basketball game, but the every day cheerleader who is here to encourage everyone else.

Encouragement is not bad; it's one of my spiritual gifts. But sometimes I get tired of cheering. I want things to happen to me and for me and I get pretty bogged down when they don't. Being happy for others is good, very good. But sometimes it exhausts me.

Sometimes people have close relationships with people I want to be close to. Sometimes people seem to be so spiritually mature and I want that same maturity in Christ. Truth is, for so long I ran from questions because they only seemed to produce fear. I now find myself being able to question, and feel light years behind other people.

I am a pretty outgoing person, but often there seems to be a disconnect between people and me. It's as if there is so much going on inside of me that I feel socially awkward. I'm sorting through some confusion.

This too shall pass.