Wordless Wednesday: Perspective.

Bouquets of Newly Sharpened Pencils.

My sister and I ready to embark on a new school day
(and possibly new school year, though I really can't
remember the details.) Note the sweet Crayola book bags
and Kim's Trapper Keeper, not to mention our stylin' attire.

Even though it's been nearly 20 years since I've had a first day of school, I still get excited this time of year for students and teachers returning to the classroom.

(I'm pretty sure it's the geek in me, but for the sake of kindness, let's focus on my love for fresh starts for now. Thanks.)

A fellow blogger, Joy Sowell, posted the other day about her nostalgia for all things school. Just before reading her blog, I had noted on Facebook that reconnecting with some childhood friends right here at the beginning of the school year was making me nostalgic. The two combined brought back many memories of my own, including the joys of new Trapper Keepers, being so excited about school I couldn't sleep the night before (told ya I was a nerd), and seeing how long it would take to get in trouble for talking in class with this new teacher (if you know me, you know...).

Image credit:
Jennifer Carroll's
 Celebrating Everyday Life

New school years also always remind me of one of my favorite quotes from "You've Got Mail" as Tom Hanks' and Meg Ryan's characters reflect on the joys of fall:

"I would send you a bouquet of newly sharpened pencils if I knew your name and address."

So at the beginning of this new school year, my wish for all students and teachers both in academia and life is that those of us embarking on any new chapters, whether personal or known to the world, will have a bouquet of freshly sharpened pencils at the ready.

Our new school year may be a project we've been itching to start, revitalizing a career, delving into a spiritual quest, beginning a healthier lifestyle, or rekindling an old friendship. Our bouquet of freshly sharpened pencils could be a 20-year-old set of tools we're brushing off to make something beautiful from something old. It could be a phone we're using to repair a friendship instead of check social media on the regular.

Whatever your bouquet of newly sharpened pencils and whatever your new school year, I wish you excitement and the best kind of geekiness, despite what age the calendar says you are.

Radio Silence Over.

When I was first cleared to have foot surgery in early June, I was sure I'd be blogging up a storm. What better way to spend my recovery, right?

Much to my surprise, it turned out an unexpected radio silence was the order of the day (week, month). So for the two of you who keep up here, my sincere apologies. Not only did I have wonderful caretakers and visitors during that surgery and recovery time, I also had my share of dark days, with many warnings not to get my hopes up, uncertainties about the future, current logistics to deal with, and what ifs that I just wasn't anticipating from every angle.

The down time was good, though. Breaks always are.

And, I'm back, and happy to be here.

Wordless Wednesday: Out of the House After 2 Weeks!

5 Things I'm Thankful for (The Bed Rest Version)

5 things I'm thankful for at this moment are:

1. My sister. I've mentioned she's a total rock star, right? The girl not only comes here to help me after my surgery when she's completed her school year, but she also takes time away from her family, cleans my house, makes sure I'm staying on medicine/foot elevated/rest schedule, helps me get organized... It's pretty ridiculous. She should actually count as two things, but I'll leave it as one.
2. My other sister. This may come as a shock to many of you, especially my parents, but there are three of us. Kim is actually the rebellious middle child, not the bossy oldest child. Our older sister is Angela, and for our just having met five years ago, she fits in pretty well. :-) Angela has truly been an amazing friend in so many ways, but has gone so far out of her way to help make my life better with this foot ordeal even before I had this procedure. Since then, she's organized for friends to bring us food (HOW NICE), and has even helped with picking things up around town. Our sisterhood was sealed when my surgeon saw her and asked if she was another sister. The answer is YES. Do not try to take her away from me. Ever. Like Kim, Angela occupies a special place in my heart and I will fight anyone to the death over her.
3. Books. Even as an avid reader, I sometimes forget how much books can transport us to other times and places. I am blaming social media for my enhanced ADHD, but that is an expanded blog post for another day. Today in particular, I am thankful for the teen craze The Hunger Games, which some friends lent me and I'm currently fascinated with. Like all the 36-year olds.
4. Rest. Aside from the slightly bothersome fact that I haven't slept this much since I was an infant, apparently rest is key to healing. I've gotten plenty of it, so I'm glad that the medical community considers that to be a good thing.
5. All this niceness from all these people. I've received a bounty of niceties from a plethora of people, and I just don't know where to begin with the gratitude. Sometimes when you are tempted to wonder what in the world is next because good grief this cannot be REAL, someone goes and does something very kind for you, and then you feel a glimmer of hope, and then you start to think maybe things will be ok with the world, or just today, perhaps. That's kind of how this is. All the food and cards and emails and Facebook notes and flowers and kindnesses... I appreciate them. I notice them and tuck them in my heart and fertilize them with joy and pray they'll bloom during the dark times, when I least expect but most need them to. Thank you.

Wordless Wednesday: New View

Wordless Wednesday: Bed Rest.

Things I Say to Inanimate Objects

"Well, it usually IS." 

- to my inbox, when it gives me a message that my mailbox is getting full

"Just TWO more minutes...just till the next cheap station..." 

- to my gas light when it comes on

"I know. I know!" 

- to my crutches when they fall

"I know I've had you since like the early 2000s and you shouldn't even still work, but now's just not the time for you to quit." 

- to my microwave, when the light flickers and I imagine visiting the circle Dante wrote about that is Walmart

"You're REALLY never gonna die, are you?" 

- to my dinosaur TV, about once a month 

"What. A. Shocker." 

- to my computer, anytime it gives me an error message

"God BLESS you for holding up." 

- to my lap of luxury 2007 paid for Toyota Corolla  

"Noooooo. No, I did not."  

- to Siri, when she asks me "did you mean <fill in the blank>, rebekah?"

"Was that necessary?" 

- to my iron, when it spews black ickiness onto perfectly clean attire (usually white)

"Offfff COURSE you are." 

- to elevators, when they have signs saying they're out of order, usually when I'm on crutches

"Aaaahhhhaaaahhhhuuhhhhh." 

- to unexpectedly locked doors, particularly when I'm on crutches 

"DIE!" 

- to unwelcome creatures in my dwelling space 

(Ok. They're not technically inanimate objects, but they're grody, I wish they were inanimate, and that's what I say to them.)

"You. Rock." 

- to my coffee, particularly the first cup

"Please don't. I'll be SO good to you from now on." 

- to my phone, when it shows me the scary apple screen of who's-the-boss 

"You can do this. I KNOW you can!"  

- to apps, when they give me error messages

"Really? Again?" 

- to my multiple Pinterest failures when they show my initial trademark signs of failing

I love the 80s!

I was an 80s kid, so when I was trying to forget pain by browsing Twitter tonight/this morning and came across this, I naturally had to check it out. 

If you're a product of the 80s, you should, too:

http://www.buzzfeed.com/briangalindo/50-things-only-80s-kids-can-understand?s=

Wordless Wednesday: Where I come from.

Motherhood of the Heart: Remembering Those Who Are Hurting

This topic is always top of mind for me on Mother's Day because of friends who have lost their moms or who are struggling with desires for parenthood. 

The blog post below is from my cousin Russ (www.russellmoore.com), who along with his wife, dealt with miscarriages prior to the adoptions and natural births of their precious sons. 

Russ addresses infertility on Mother's Day, and I think it's worth a read:

On Mother’s Day, Remember the Infertile

— WEDNESDAY, MAY 8TH, 2013 —

Mother’s Day is a particularly sensitive time in many congregations, and pastors and church leaders often don’t even know it. This is true even in congregations that don’t focus the entire service around the event as if it were a feast day on the church’s liturgical calendar. Infertile women, and often their husbands, are still often grieving in the shadows.

It is good and right to honor mothers. The Bible calls us to do so. Jesus does so with his own mother. We must recognize though that many infertile women find this day almost unbearable. This is not because these women are (necessarily) bitter or covetous or envious. The day is simply a reminder of unfulfilled longings, longings that are good.

Some pastors, commendably, mention in their sermons and prayers on this day those who want to be mothers but who have not had their prayers answered. Some recognize those who are mothers not to children, but to the rest of the congregation as they disciple spiritual daughters in the faith. This is more than a “shout-out” to those who don’t have children. It is a call to the congregation to rejoice in those who “mother” the church with wisdom, and it’s a call to the church to remember those who long desperately to hear “Mama” directed at them.

What if pastors and church leaders were to set aside a day for prayer for children for the infertile?

In too many churches ministry to infertile couples is relegated to support groups that meet in the church basement during the week, under cover of darkness. Now it’s true that infertile couples need each other. The time of prayer and counsel with people in similar circumstances can be helpful.

But this alone can contribute to the sense of isolation and even shame experienced by those hurting in this way. Moreover, if the only time one talks about infertility is in a room with those who are currently infertile, one is probably going to frame the situation in rather hopeless terms.

In fact, almost every congregation is filled with previously infertile people, including lots and lots who were told by medical professionals that they would never have children! Most of those (most of us, I should say) who fit into that category don’t really talk about it much because they simply don’t think of themselves in those terms. The baby or babies are here, and the pain of the infertility has subsided. Infertile couples need to see others who were once where they are, but who have been granted the blessing they seek.

What if, at the end of a service, the pastor called any person or couple who wanted prayer for children to come forward and then asked others in the congregation to gather around them and pray? Not every person grappling with infertility will do this publicly, and that’s all right. But many will. And even those too embarrassed to come forward will be encouraged by a church willing to pray for those hurting this way. The pastor could pray for God’s gift of children for these couples, either through biological procreation or through adoption, whichever the Lord should desire in each case.

Regardless of how you do it, remember the infertile as the world around us celebrates motherhood. The Proverbs 31 woman needs our attention, but the 1 Samuel 1 woman does too.

A version of this commentary originally ran on May 5, 2011.

(http://www.russellmoore.com/2013/05/08/on-mothers-day-remember-the-infertile/)

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It's coming... It's coming!

In case you haven't noticed, Mother's Day is quickly approaching.

Now, I'm not a mom (much to my grandmother and daddy's chagrin, but to those who know me best's SERIOUS relief), but I do think from observance that I know what the best gifts are.

The most popular, winning, most awesome gifts you can give your mom or wife for Mother's Day include, but are not limited to, the following:

• Anything from the heart. This sounds cheesy, but I mean it. If your gift is words, give it. Sit down, write something about what your mom means to you, and just give it to her, already. It will mean the world to her. If you can afford to accompany it with something you purchase, fine. If not, do.not.worry. For real.
  
• A little bit of free time. Again, this is not coming from a mama, but I've been observing for a while and I hear a few of them like to do things in peace when they have opportunity. Think. Read. Cook. Shop. Whatever. IT'S NOT YOU; IT'S THEM. Seriously. Can you fathom someone tugging at your leg every second of your life? Exactly. Me neither. So if there's any way you can give 'em a day, an hour, a half-day, a DAY EACH WEEK, a day each MONTH, a. day. every. quarter. even (?) o' peace...wow. You so win. Seriously.
  
• Public affection. I'm not into this, and I don't mean PDA (like being gross in front of everyone), but you know, showing you love someone in front of people they care about is really never a bad thing. So flowers, showing up at their office to take them to lunch, giving them something to wear that they can say, "Rebekah gave me this because she said I'm the best mother EVER!" (agh! Have I done that?!) -- that's the good stuff. In my opinion. And I believe in the opinions of the moms I've been inadvertently observing during my childbearing years.
  
• Not limiting your affection to that day. My cousin, whom I'd totally set all you single females up with if he wasn't married to the.best.girl.on.earth.ever, describes Valentine's Day the way I feel about it, but the way I didn't think a guy ever would: "Why does one day matter so much? If you really love someone the way you should and show it in a relationship, does a Hallmark holiday even matter?" THANK YOU, MY FRIEND. And the great part is that his wife would agree. (I'm pretty sure of this. I didn't confirm with her. I'm sorry, Alicia, if you don't. :-|.) But showing your love in even a little way -- because aren't the little ways the best? -- each day mean WAY more than one big 2 dozen red rose deliveries on Valentine's Day or Mother's Day or whatever the occasion is. If you're secure in the relationship, you don't need the rest. Am I right?

Ok. That might be all I have on Mother's Day, but you probably have more to add. The good news is, you can add it! Please do. I have SUCH limited experience. (As my Nan and Daddy despair over.) ;-) 

To all of you who have babies and are slaving away over the daily tasks, I pray you get a moment's relief and that you feel elated on your day, and on each day. 

To all who are wanting children but do not have them, I pray you find solace that you are not alone. There are so many caring, deserving, wonderful ladies who desire children and have so much to offer babies. I pray for you. Really. Daily. I'm not sure why I don't crave this, but I pray the child you are ready to dote your affection on comes to your home sooner versus later, and that you find him or her through adoption, or fostering, or whatever way you are supposed to. 

Either way, Happy Mother's Day. I truly believe motherhood is in the heart. If you've got the gene, savor it. It's special, and so are you.

Much love.

Wordless Wednesday: Sweet Land.

5 Things I'm Thankful For (Re. Mobility, and Post-Weirdest Week EVER).

Five things I'm grateful for after what may be the oddest week in America and with what could be, to put it mildly, called some challenges with mobility, are:

1. Technology. I cut out cable a while back for cost purposes, but even if I'd had it, I'm not sure I'd have been glad to rely on it with so many errors as the Boston bombing events unfolded.
2. The Hidden Protectors. I'm so grateful for those beautiful first responders during these attacks, and those who were gracious and generous outside of their jobs, but I'm always more aware than ever during times like these of the people in our military and intelligence communities who give of their lives to protect our freedoms on a regular basis, so we don't have to see the ugliness we witnessed last week.
3. Safety. This might seem pretty obvious, but it's really something we take for granted. From keeping OSHA inspectors away to Boston bombers, there are many people who care less about our safety, and it makes me grateful for those who are on top of it.
4. Sunshine. Because life's better with brighter days.
5. Compassion. These times bring out the best and worst in us (terror on a grand scale, limited mobility on a MUCH smaller one), but compassion overrides that, and my cup overflows when I have it and when I receive it. 

Pray for Boston. Pray for Texas. Pray for Iraq. Pray for us all.

Not just hashtags on Twitter. Not just something to do last week.

Boston Commons, March 2007

Dear Boston.

USS Constitution

For the past couple of years, I've joked that when my bum foot heals, I'll be like Forest Gump and run until I can't stop.

Time travel a few years back, pre-broken toe and pre-Stupid Foot, when I discovered Boston with some friends on vacation.

Paul Revere's house

(By "discover," I mean "fell in love." And by "vacation," I mean "my go-to if I ever needed to change identities.")

Even though with this confession the jig's up on my first-choice hideaway spot, hopefully it gives you an idea of how hard I fell for this gorgeous gem of a town. Town? It's a city. Well, a city, and a mere historical landmark of our entire nation. 

Site of the Boston Massacre

Paul Revere's childhood home. The Freedom Trail. Faneuil Hall. Boston Commons. Harvard. The site where the Declaration of Independence was signed. The first public school. The USS Constitution.

You know. A few significant locations.

Not everyone loves the feel and sounds and people and sights of Boston, and I get that. (I mean, I loved it even though it froze my face off, but I may not love running like I think I will, and a lot of people do even when it blisters their feet every.single.day.)

First Public School

But I did love Boston. Even though it's been six years since I visited, I'm pretty sure if you dropped me there, it would take me a little while to get my bearings, but I'd be smiling.

So today when I heard that people who are doing what they love and what I am admiring so hard these days were literally jarred by explosions that rocked this place I adore....well...what in the world.

Faneuil Hall

Without getting into the why-does-craziness-occur of it all, Boston? To runners? At the finish line? On Patriots' Day?

Too much sadness. Too much heaviness.

Where the Declaration 
of Independence
was signed

And thanks to having been there (and maybe a few other non-vacation, figurative locations these past six years), I understand there is too much life to live for me to waste the freedom that so much of Boston was originally marked with by letting the sadness and heaviness get the best of me.

The 2007 version of RJ
chilin' with Ben Franklin

I hate with everything in me that anyone wants to rip anyone's freedom away, whether it's a bully on the playground or a terrorist at a marathon.


I also hate that I ever let someone else's wound keep me from fighting for and enjoying my own freedom that is so viciously guarded to this day.

Beacon Hill

Boston is dear to me. Its people, flavors, and flair stole my heart, and I was only there for a few days.

Freedom is also dear to me. I admire those runners for expressing themselves today by accepting the invitation to be among an elite group of athletes who willingly wreck themselves to experience health and happiness.

I hope I will remember the fervor of runners when I'm tempted to give up. And I hope I will remember the freedom Boston memorializes that says I don't have to give up. Ever.



Dear Boston, thank you for the memories -- of that visit, and of how strongly I feel about my country's foundation. And dear marathoners, thank you for the reminder to keep going.

Please join me and pray for Boston.

Happy Feet, Happy Boston - 2007

Harvard Square

Salt & Pepper Shaker Bridge :-)

Quincy Market

Not Today.

Today I'm thankful that I don't feel like this:

Celebrate!

Even if we don't feel like it, there's always something to celebrate.

April is National Poetry Month, and the twittering brilliance of @brainpicker (Maria Popova) uncovers this lovely handwritten bit from 13-year-old Charlotte Brontë:

I’ve been wandering in the greenwoods
And mid flowery smiling plains
I’ve been listening to the dark floods
To the thrushes thrilling strains
I have gathered the pale primrose
And the purple violet sweet
I’ve been where the Asphodel grows
And where lives the red deer fleet.
I’ve been to the distant mountain,
To the silver singing rill
By the crystal murmering mountain,
And the shady verdant hill.
I’ve been where the poplar is springing
From the fair inamelled ground
Where the nightingale is singing
With a solemn plaintive sound.

Celebrate more "tiny verses on envelopes" here: http://m.theatlantic.com/entertainment/archive/2013/04/tiny-verses-on-envelopes-the-handwritten-poems-of-famous-authors/274784.

Follow Maria Popova on twitter at www.twitter.com/brainpicker.

Celebrate!

Even if we don't feel like it, there's always something to celebrate.

April is National Poetry Month, and the twittering brilliance of @brainpicker (Maria Popova) uncovers this lovely handwritten bit from 13-year-old Charlotte Brontë:

I’ve been wandering in the greenwoods
And mid flowery smiling plains
I’ve been listening to the dark floods
To the thrushes thrilling strains
I have gathered the pale primrose
And the purple violet sweet
I’ve been where the Asphodel grows
And where lives the red deer fleet.
I’ve been to the distant mountain,
To the silver singing rill
By the crystal murmering mountain,
And the shady verdant hill.
I’ve been where the poplar is springing
From the fair inamelled ground
Where the nightingale is singing
With a solemn plaintive sound.

Celebrate more "tiny verses on envelopes" here: http://m.theatlantic.com/entertainment/archive/2013/04/tiny-verses-on-envelopes-the-handwritten-poems-of-famous-authors/274784.

Follow Maria Popova on twitter at www.twitter.com/brainpicker.

Wordless Wednesday.

Good Friday: A Page From Joyce Meyer's Book

This piece from Joyce Meyer about Good Friday struck me today:

Ever wonder why we refer to the day of Jesus' death as "Good" Friday, since it's a day that involved so much pain, agony and heartache? Well, it's because the result of this particular Friday—Christ's resurrection from the dead on Sunday—was good.

In our daily lives, we need to believe that when we go through hard times, the result will be good. But when we're hurting, probably one of the most challenging things for us to remember is that God is going to work it out for our good.

Read more on Joyce Meyer's site: http://t.co/9XveOzsfdY