InstaCrown

Not on Instagram but want to keep up with the latest Miss USA 2014 photos? Check out this public Facebook album, updated daily.

Published Blog Posts, Selfies With Battleships and Other Surprising Moments from Covering Miss USA

When a friend encouraged me to apply to cover the Miss USA events in Baton Rouge, I never dream I'd end up having so much fun, much less with a blog post published in the local newspaper.

Please check out Miss Ohio's interest in history and our military at The Baton Rouge Advocate!

http://blogs.theadvocate.com/krewedecrown/2014/06/04/but-first-let-me-take-a-selfiewith-a-battleship/

All That Glitters.

Often a sucker for a shiny object, I was recently encouraged to apply to cover the Miss USA pageant that's being held in Baton Rouge Sunday, June 8, 2014.

Not expecting to hear back after submitting my social info, I was excited to learn from the Baton Rouge Social Media Association that I was selected as one of Visit BR's social ambassadors for the event!

The other ambassadors and I had our initial meeting a few days ago and have divvied up events the contestants will be at for the next couple of weeks until the pageant.

So if you see an unusual number of glitz and glamour-related posts on my social platforms, I'm still myself, just in sparkle mode until June 8.

If you'd like to join in the conversations, we're using the hashtags #MissUSA, #GoBR and #KrewedeCrown. You can find me at the following places:

• Twitter: @RJ0hn50n
• Instagram: @RJ0hn50n
• Pinterest: RJ0hn50n
• Facebook: facebook.com/rebekah.johnson1

Shine on!

April Showers.

April showers bring May flowers.

This expression is either really true, a nice way of hushing us all up from complaining about the typical dreariness before spring's loveliness, or a little of both.

Regardless, if April showers truly do bring May flowers, what kind of botanical beauty must severe weather produce? Let's hope it brings tourist-worthy blooms that will knock the lenses off our phones and put Instagram's filters to shame, particularly since this April's "showers" ripped many Southern towns to shreds and will require repair work for months and years to come.

And, of course, I'm just referring the literal showers.

Lord knows we all have inner storms that even Jim Cantore's team couldn't predict or show up for -- the ones that sneak up on lovely dwelling places we keep so tidy and call home, barreling through our peace of mind and quiet hearts, tempting us to run for the hills and forget everything we've ever experienced about knowing the knowing God when we are still.

When any kind of shower, brutal or light, rips through our world and turns smiles to frowns, it's kind of hard to keep a Pollyanna-esque outlook. When it comes down to it, flowers are pretty, and some color is always nice, but how many meals can you make from them? Has anyone written a check with a bouquet of roses?

Not to mix cliches and the Bible, but in stormy times like these, I try to remember Scriptures referencing how much God cares for seemingly tiny and almost insignificant creatures like sparrows:

"Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?" Matthew 6:26 (English Standard Version)

I do think when it comes to "small" things in life, like flowers vs. flooding and birds vs. bills getting paid, maybe those old adages and forever applicable Scriptures are pointing to the same eternal truth: if our omniscient Creator attends to these details, He probably won't let his perfect creations flail because of circumstances like storms, literal or figurative.

Not that those affirmations are helpful when we're in the bathtub fully clothed as we hear the winds howl overhead, or when we're wondering why yet another piece of our life is flopping around as though we've poisoned it when we're clearly making efforts to do the right thing, but maybe, once the twister dies down and the debris settles and the sun comes back out, we can remember what's good and true and right: our God is bigger than these storms, and He doesn't withhold the beauty of the flowers afterwards.

Choosing Lent.

With a whopping 13 minutes till Lundi Gras, I began seriously thinking last night about what I may give up for Lent this year. (No time like the present, right?)

Around the same time, my multi-tasking mind recalled I hadn't watched a video my daddy had sent about nature. Keeping the parenthetical notation above in mind, I opened it, letting my mind ponder how I'd gone from a curious Baptist interested in her Catholic friends' devout practices to a member of a Presbyterian church where Lenten sacrifices are not only discussed, but encouraged. 

Watching the video, I was reminded of some of the reasons why I think Lent is important, regardless of denomination. 

First, the video: 

Now, a few reasons why Lent is important to me:

1. Sacrifice sharpens us. We never know when we'll need a skill, like being able to run fast, or spot a hole to climb in, or take a deep breath and think clearly. Maybe I've read too much Hunger Games.... Anyway, discipline can't hurt, right?

2. Sacrifice reminds us to be thankful. There may be better ways to learn appreciation than to go without even small things, and even for a short periods of time, but I'm not sure what those ways are.

3. Sacrifice reminds us we're not alone. Do I sometimes feel alone, like the only squirrel being chased down by the mean hawk? Well, naturally. I'm guessing many of us do. But is it possible for there to be one little squirrel in the forest? Doubtful. You and I are one of many, and can share so much. We just have to allow ourselves to. 

4. Sacrifice makes celebration sweeter. This fact, in the land of carnival and king cake known as the deep South, seems like such a no-brainer. But I think sometimes especially in the midst of such excess we need the reminder of why it all exists even more. It's not just a party for tourists. There's a story behind it, and come Easter, the real celebration is more heartfelt and glorious than any masquerade ball or parade could ever hope to present itself.

Baptist or Catholic, atheist or non-denominational, Presbyterian or Methodist, none of us are strangers to the feeling of being a small squirrel that is chased down by a ruthless hawk. Our inboxes fill with stress. Bank accounts remind us of our weaknesses. There are days when rather than blessings, our cups runneth over with relationship problems, health concerns, or repercussions from decisions we made ten years ago. No one is immune to parenting mistakes. No one can escape fears of the future. Hawks come in all shapes and sizes, and whether or not we believe there's a God or Lent is something we should partake in, we can't evade pressure.

We can, however, sharpen ourselves. We can meditate on what is true and just and pure. We can prepare ourselves for what may come our way. We can see what sacrifice feels like and appreciate what others (in my case, Jesus on the cross) have done for us. 

So that's why I choose to keep getting myself into this Lent situation. 

Because I'm far less prepared than any squirrel, and since every day brings a new hawk, it's clear this squirrel of a girl needs to take every opportunity to get busy sharpening skills and counting blessings. 

Repost from another re. My ongoing love affair with my home state, Mississippi.

Repost:

http://thoughtcatalog.com/mary-sellers/2014/02/a-love-letter-to-mississippi/

One outstanding quote:

"All growth is change and pain, but stagnancy is far worse. Life shouldn’t pass us by because we are virile, tough things. We are made from your delta, your seashore, and your folklore. Let’s give equal parts thanks and sorrow. Let’s mourn our wrongdoings and celebrate our indomitable spirit."

2014: Word.

Some of you know that instead of making one or two New Year's resolutions, I choose a meaningful word and try to squeeze the most out of it for the year's entirety. In the past, my words have been " "maintenance" or "structure" -- synopses of efforts to continue healthy habits or put some rigor around areas that need it.

For 2014, my word is "resourceful." 

While few people have truly limitless resources, many of us are truly limited in what's at our disposal. What could I be making the most of that I'm currently not? Time? Talents? Money? (These things may often seem in deficit, but really, am I using them wisely?) What about my most valuable assets: Friendships? Family? My home? My city? My country?

This year, my goal is to explore these things. 

Here's hoping I glean the marrow from them, being as resourceful as possible.

Wordless Wednesday: There's No Place Like Home for the Holidays.

Heavy Stones.

A huge fan of older hymns, I'm admittedly hesitant to accept newer praise songs, much less allow them to snag my heart and hold my interest as often as they did years ago. 

Today, though, I heard Sojourn's "Lead Us Back" for the first time in my church's acoustic service. Everything about it was touching and heartbreaking, and I don't want to lose what I learned from it. 

My goal is to feel the weight of the stones I throw, and to develop an ear that can identify all the wrong enthralling siren songs before I succumb to them. Should be easy enough, right? ;-)

The song from YouTube and the lyrics are pasted below. 

http://youtu.be/E7vyiI9vC2w

Lead Us Back 

(Falling Down Upon Our Knees) 

by Bobby Gilles, Brooks Ritter 

Copyright © 2006

Falling down upon our knees,
Sharing now in common shame,
We have sought security,
Not the cross that bears Your name.
Fences guard our hearts and homes --
Comfort sings a siren tune.
We're a valley of dry bones;
Lead us back to life in You.

Lord we fall upon our knees,
We have shunned the weak and poor,
Worshipped beauty, courted kings
And the things their gold affords,
Prayed for those we'd like to know --
Favor sings a siren tune.
We've become a talent show;
Lead us back to life in You.

You have caused the blind to see,
We have blinded him again
With our man-made laws and creeds,
Eager, ready to condemn.
Now we plead before Your throne --
Power sings a siren tune.
We've been throwing heavy stones;
Lead us back to life in You.

We're a valley of dry bones
Lead us back to life in You.
We've become a talent show
Lead us back to life in You.
We've been throwing heavy stones
Lead us back to life in You.

5 Things I'm Thankful for Today.

1. Fall weather. 60-degree temps? In the deep south? Yes, siree. Bring it on.
2. Crock pots. The scents wafting throughout the house, the prep and being able to do other things while meals are cooking, the multiple servings of meals when the slow cooker has finished slow cooking...it's all good. Literally.
3. Hope. 'Cause you know, it's a pretty huge motivator and the best non-narcotic ever. Ever. Also, it can keep you going through the next week, which is amazingly nice.
4. Football season. You know, my teams don't have to win, but it's really nice when they do. Well, when some of them do. Specifically the Saints and LSU. I'd love for Southern Miss to do well, but...maybe next year. :-)
5. A grandmother who recovers well enough from her stroke to come home. And parents who are willing to change their lives to help her. That was long, but I think necessary.

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.