Everyday Life

Categories Everyday Life

A (Second) Naming Exercise

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In my first naming exercise, I suggested using a thesaurus as a baby-naming tool. This remains a great source for unique, incomprehensible, and unpronounceable names–but I’ve learned even more naming tricks in my tenure at WIC.

One popular choice is to take a common name and switch one or more letters to make it an uncommon name.

I’ll use some of my cousin’s names as examples.

Eric becomes Aric
Sarah becomes Barah
Joel becomes Coel
Jennifer becomes Dennifer
Adam becomes Edam
Tabitha becomes Fabitha
Kyle becomes Gyle
Susannah becomes Husannah
Elizabeth becomes IyLizabeth
Christine becomes Jistine
Joseph becomes Koseph
Joanna becomes Loanna
Caroline becomes Maraline
Lauren becomes Nauren
Aaron becomes Oh’ron
Naomi becomes Paomi
Caleb becomes Qualeb
Donna becomes Ronna
Daniel becomes Saniel
James becomes Tames
Anthony becomes Untony
Luke becomes Vuke
*Note that W has been skipped because I can’t countenance lisping a name, even for an exercise*
Brett becomes Xett
Paul becomes Yaul
Benjamin becomes Zenjamin

Of course, this is only switching up the first letter of the name. Multitudes of additional combinations can be made by trading out one or more of the middle or ending letters. For example, Jane can become Hael by changing the J to an H (Hane), switching the e and the n (Haen) and then switching the N to an L.

The possibilities are endless.

Please note that all names (except those of my cousins) are fictionalized. Any resemblance with actual WIC client names is entirely accidental. :-)

Also note that this is not a complete listing of my cousins. Exclusions were made to keep the number at 25. My apologies to those whose names I have not butchered.

Categories Family & Friends, Following Christ

What I pray for your children

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If you are one of my siblings or one of my bloggy friends, I pray for you and for your children. Approximately once a week, your name pops up on my phone and, generally while I’m cleaning the toys in my office, I pray for you. If you have expressed a particular request or if I’ve deduced one from what you’ve written, I’ll pray for that; but otherwise, I pray a very specific sort of prayer.

I do not pray for your children to be obedient.

Obedient, manageable children are nice to have, easy to care for. But that isn’t what I want for you or for them.

Obedience and manageability can mask inward apathy or rebellion. Obedience and manageability can convince a child that they’re a “good kid”. They can begin to rely upon their “good kid” status. They can begin to work hard to maintain their “good kid” status. Someday, they may rebel against their “good kid” status.

I don’t pray for them to obedient. They need something more.

They need Jesus.

Even so, I do not pray for your children to love Jesus.

Many a child who “loves Jesus”–who delights to sing Bible songs, who loves to go to Sunday School, who tells his friends about Jesus–grows up to be an adult who rejects the faith.

“Loving Jesus” is often a cultural thing, about speaking the lingo of the church, singing the songs of the church, acting the way church people do.

But just like the children of hippies turned yuppie and the children of yuppies turned hipster, the children of Christianity often turn atheist or agnostic or non-practicing nothings.

I don’t pray for the to “love Jesus”. They need something more.

You see, I don’t want your children to just love Jesus, like they love their favorite toy, I want them to know Jesus.

And I don’t want your children to just know Jesus, I want them to know Jesus savingly.

And if they are to know Jesus savingly, they must know that they are depraved.

For that reason, I pray that your children would recognize their sinfulness.

I pray that they would be acutely aware of their inability to live up to God’s standard.

I pray that they would recognize the futility of their works to ever change their status.

I pray that they would fall wholly upon the mercy of God in the person of Christ.

That, my friends, is what I pray for your children.

Categories Family & Friends

Snapshot: Mothers

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My mother was indispensable in wedding planning. From the reception site to the cake to making salads to altering my dress, her hand was all over our wedding.

Nevertheless, I didn’t even think to have her there to help me dress. (Shame, shame.)

Thankfully, my photographer did think, so I gave my mom a call and she quickly got dressed in her fancies and made her way over to the church (she’d just been picking up the rolls from the bakery, of course.)

My mother helping lace up my dress

I’m glad she was there to celebrate with us that my brother and sister-in-law and niece had arrived. I’m glad she was there to help lace up the back of my dress. I’m glad she was there to show my sister (also my maid of honor) how to bustle up the dress.

But even had she not been there at those exact moment, my mom has faithfully been there whenever I needed her.

Me and my mother

I didn’t see my brother Timothy escort my mother up the aisle, but I have pictures to see my mother make the way up–her first time as mother of the bride.

My mother walking up the aisle

I also didn’t see my mother and my mother-in-law-to-be mount the stage to light their respective candles. But I have pictures of them returning.

My mother and mother in law lighting the unity candle

I do remember greeting my new mother-in-law with a hug in the receiving line. I remember hugging the woman who has welcomed me so well into her family.

My mother

This year, for the first time, I am blessed to have two wonderful women to honor on Mothers’ Day.

Both of these women have blessed me immeasurably–one in raising me in the fear of the Lord and the other in raising my husband in that same fear.

May we ever rise up and call her blessed.

“Many women do noble things,
but you surpass them all.
Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting;
but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised.
Honor her for all that her hands have done,
and let her works bring her praise at the city gate.”
~Proverbs 31:29-31 (ESV)

We are their works, my husband and I. May we ever bring them praise.

Surely, they deserve it.

Categories Everyday Life

The path they traveled

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When it got to be a week and a half after our photographer (The wonderful Chris of La Brisa Photography) told us he was sending the USB of our wedding photos and I still hadn’t seen them, I started to wonder.

I sent Chris a quick update. “Hey, we haven’t gotten the USB drive yet. Were you not able to get it into the mail as planned?”

Chris’s reply was prompt: “That’s strange. I received confirmation that it was delivered on the 25th of April!”

He went onto list the address he’d sent it to.

I read the address, looked through our pile of mail again.

Then I looked at the address again.

Just a second. Of course. That wasn’t our address. Two of the digits had been transposed–so that instead of sending our photos to 1243 Our Street, they were sent to 1234 Our Street (Not our real address :-P).

Daniel and I at our wedding

During our “first look” session

I’m sure it was my mistake.

If I weren’t so lazy, I’d look up the email trail to confirm that it was my mistake.

I’m sure I’ve done it before, if only in my mind–and once it’s wrong, it’s easy just to rush through the address for confirmation, see all the digits and transpose them in my own mind…

So, instead of being delivered to US, our wedding photos were sent to someone the next block over.

I was on my lunch break, so I prepared a letter explaining the predicament and made my way down the block to 1234 Our Street.

I rang the doorbell and waited. No one there. I’d expected that–it was the middle of the day. That’s why I’d prepared the letter. I opened the screen door to insert the letter and decided, on a whim, to knock.

The dogs barking indicated that the doorbell probably didn’t work (they would have barked at the bell, right?) and a few moments later, the resident of 1234 Our Street opened the door.

I explained my predicament in a single long incomprehensible sentence. Mr. 1234 rubbed his eyes and asked me to explain one more time.

I slowed down and tried to explain more clearly. “My name is Rebekah Garcia. I live just down the street at 1243 Our Street. I was supposed to have a letter delivered to me last week, but I believe it was accidentally sent to you. I was wondering if you’d received it–it contains my wedding pictures and I’d really like to have them.”

This time my explanation made more sense. Mr 1234 explained that he didn’t know, since he’s just back from traveling, but that he’d ask his better half when she got off work. I left my cell phone number with him and waited.

Walking to a vacant lot for photos

Walking to a vacant lot for more photos

I waited impatiently.

After two days, I checked back in.

“We’re still searching. The kids swear they got the mail.”

I assured him I knew how that went–and went back to my everyday life.

Finally, this Sunday afternoon, I was sitting in bed with Daniel’s laptop on my lap processing some data for one of Daniel’s projects when the doorbell rang.

Daniel got up to answer it, his textbook being easier to get off his lap than the laptop off of mine.

“Is this where Rebekah Garcia lives?”

I listened with growing excitement as Daniel received the package from our neighbor.

My pictures were HERE!

Daniel and I at our wedding

Categories Everyday Life

A Naming Exercise

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Working at WIC has introduced me to a whole range of names that I never would have imagined existed as names.

I have lived my entire life believing the Bible to be the best source for ideas in naming children.

After all, my siblings are Anna, Joshua, Daniel, John, Timothy, and Grace.

//On a side note, the boys in my family appear in Biblical order of appearance: Joshua comes before Daniel who comes before John who comes before Timothy–while the girls in my family appear in reverse order of appearance: Anna comes after Rebekah who comes after the first appearance of Grace. This was NOT planned.//

When trying to be unique, I still relied on Scripture for my names. I imagined daughters with Biblical place names as their first names: Bethel, Tirzah, Shiloh. (Davene has a beautiful Moriah.)

My second source of ideas for names was books, namely literature. Many of these names, of course, coincided with the Biblical names.

I could have a Jane, an Elizabeth, a William (I’m not pretentious enough to add the Fitz–and woe on the daughter named Kitty or Lydia.) I could have a Nancy, a Frank, or a Joe. I could have a Caroline, a Charles, a Laura, a Mary, or a Carrie. I could have Anne or Gilbert or Blythe (did you see what I just did there?)

The one book I never imagined getting names from was the thesaurus. But apparently, that is THE baby naming book of the decade.

Let’s give it a try. Start with a word, any word, and get looking.

I’ll start with HAPPY.

Thesaurus.com suggests “blessed, blest, blissful, blithe, can’t complain, captivated, cheerful, chipper, chirpy, content, contented, convivial, delighted, ecstatic, elated, exultant, flying high, gay, glad, gleeful, gratified, intoxicated, jolly, joyful, joyous, jubilant, laughing, light, lively, looking good, merry, mirthful, on cloud nine, overjoyed, peaceful, peppy, perky, playful, pleasant, pleased, sparkling, sunny, thrilled, tickled, tickled pink, up, upbeat, walking on air”.

Let’s get busy making naming trees now.

Blest would be a good name–but it would be even better if spelled B’lest. And its synonyms suggest: Adored (probably pronounced Uh-Door-AY-d), Divine (possibly spelled D’vine), and Celebrate.

Blissful’s synonyms are rich in possibility: Delighted (clearly the best way to spell this would be DeeLyte), Ecstatic (spell this Xtatik), Enchanted (probably pronounced “EN-shahn-T” with a silent “ed”), Heavenly (but this is too straightforward–best to spell it backwards as Yl-Neveah, pronounced “I-ul-Nuh-VAY-ah” or “Ill-Nuh-VAY-ah”), Rapturous (pronounced “Rap-TWO-russ”, of course.)

Give it a try. What names can YOU come up with?

Please note that all names are fictionalized. Any resemblance with actual WIC client names is entirely accidental. :-)

Categories Everyday Life

Miscellany

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Remember my new nightstand?

Apparently it is now home to Daniel’s glasses.

Daniel's glasses on Nightstand

I don’t really mind. If I did, I’d transfer them back onto his own nightstand.

Still, it’s funny how that happens.

This morning, I was telling Daniel that I was excited–and I came up with a new simile to describe my excitement: “Like a sixteen-year-old getting her period for the first time.”

Daniel suggested that I post said simile on Facebook.

It managed to gross out one of our least gross-out-able friends.

Does that gross you out, or does it convey (as I intended) the excitement and relief of the arrival of a long-anticipated event?

Our wedding photos are now up so that we can order professional prints–and the electronic copies (which we bought rights for) should be arriving any day.

Which means I should soon have wedding photos to share with you. (For some strange reason, I didn’t take any pictures of my own that day :-P)

For now, I’ll give you a teaser from among the stuff our photographer posted on Facebook.

Sunset Photo

Categories Everyday Life

Profile of a Terrorist

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Since we all know that the greatest risk to the safety of Americans is fundamentalist Christians, it makes sense that the TSA engage in terrorist profiling.

I suggest profiling for the following characteristics:

  • White Race
    Everyone knows that most fundamentalist Christians are white. And everyone knows that most white supremacists are white. Which means that white people who exhibit characteristics of Christian fundamentalism are a threat. Obviously.
  • Female
    While most known perpetrators of terrorism are male, any woman who is willing to submit to so misogynist a culture as Christian fundamentalism may be just as easily brainwashed into committing an act of terror.
  • Long hair
    Clearly, just being a white woman is insufficient to make one a terrorism suspect. A vast majority of white women are innocuous. When white women become a risk is when they also exhibit signs of religious fundamentalism like Long Hair or…
  • Long skirts
    See above. Actually, though, just to make sure that we don’t miss any terrorists, we should probably suspect any woman crazy enough to fly in a skirt–no matter what the length.

The above profile most likely explains why I have been “randomly” selected for additional screening the last six times I have flown.

During the last two flights (on my honeymoon), I exhibited fewer signs (I wore jeans on the way TO South Carolina and a knee length skirt on my way BACK from South Carolina) so I only had minimal additional screening–a closer look at my shoes and my tablet. Prior to that, I enjoyed four full-body pat downs.

When I shared this, my pet conspiracy theory, with the Happy Food crowd (friends who get together for dinner every Tuesday night) last night, they offered an alternate explanation: My file has been flagged.

This, it is true, is a more likely explanation for how I’ve been “randomly” selected so often.

But, the question remains: Why on EARTH would they flag ME?

Some potential explanations: I wore long skirts (potentially capable of hiding something underneath) while flying on four different occasions. On the fourth flight, after waiting ten minutes for a female TSA agent to search me, I questioned why a male TSA agent couldn’t do the job (since there were several male agents standing around doing nothing.) Or…maybe…I don’t know.

Oh, wait. I have an idea.

Maybe it’s because I attended a Tea Party Rally.

Yep, that’s probably it.

And…I’m back to conspiracy theories.

Sigh.

:-)

Categories Work

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow

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Snow doesn’t usually accumulate in Wichita.

A snowstorm means snow flies, people get in accidents, and the streets are clear within an hour.

At least, that’s the way it usually is.

This week, though, Wichita experienced a Nebraska-quality snowstorm.

We got several inches Wednesday afternoon–which meant most of our appointments were no-shows. I e-mailed my family telling them of the snowstorm around four–and then kicked myself when I walked out of the office at five to find the streets clear.

I left my boots at Daniel’s house that evening. After all, the streets and the skies were clear as of two Thursday morning.

When I walked up the stairs Thursday morning, ready for work, the woman I live with asked me if I was sure I still had to work.

I was a bit confused until I looked out the door. In the six hours since I’d last looked, we’d gotten six inches.

Nena was kind enough to help me clear my car (meaning that I only soaked my stockings up to my knees, but left my clothes themselves relatively dry). I slipped and slid and spun my tires a bit on the way out the driveway.

I got to my training a half-hour late–but I did make it, as did one other participant. I couldn’t tell whether my eye doctor was still open based on the message on their phone, so I geared up to go at the appropriate time, only to find that I was STUCK.

It took about 20 minutes to get myself free–digging out my tires, placing a carpet underneath them, rocking forward and then back before finally getting enough traction to move a couple of feet. Digging myself out again, repositioning the carpet, etc.

Once free, I drove across town to find the eye doctor closed. Big surprise there.

It turned out no one could get into our clinic. Since it’s attached to a school and the schools had a snow day, we had no one to unlock the door.

Rather than returning to the Main clinic for the second half of the day, I went to Daniel’s and took a nap (and then made supper, did laundry, helped Daniel with some data entry for a project, organized cleaning supplies, and cleaned the toilet.)

Over the afternoon, we got a third snowfall–another three or four inches maybe. Daniel cleared my car before I went home–and thankfully, we haven’t gotten anymore.

Nevertheless, it is cold and wet today. We actually have accumulation. The streets are piled with snow that is only just beginning to be packed down by slowly emerging drivers.

And, a curious young client looked carefully at my pantyhose this morning before proclaiming, “You can’t wear THAT! It’s SNOWY outside.”

Categories Everyday Life

Life These Days

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I love my life.

I am doing what I love-helping women feed their families better, doing nutrition education. I work for a program I believe in, with people I enjoy. I work just 40 hours a week.

I am in the same city as the man I love. I get to see him every day. I cook (almost) every day for a man who compliments my food and gladly eats the leftovers.

I am in the process of making a home in a lovely little house, with hardwood floor like I’ve always dreamed about and an abundance of windows. Daniel and I have complete freedom to paint the walls, build things, and tear things down. It is our home.

I am surrounded by great people. I have Happy Food every Tuesday, where I eat good food and enjoy the company of a fascinating group of men and women. Every other weekend or so, I share meals with friends of Daniel’s who are becoming my friends too–couples, singles, older people and younger. I have a mentor that I meet with to discuss life, to pray with and be encouraged by.

I am preparing for my wedding. In less than a month, I will marry a man beyond my dreams–whose mother refers to us as a “matched set” (isn’t that the sweetest–and possibly scariest–thing you’ve ever heard?) I am deliriously happy.

Life is wonderful.

And it is SO HARD.

I left Daniel’s house last night and started crying.

Sobbing.

Bawling.

I almost had to pull over because I could hardly see.

The girl working at the McDonald’s drive-through looked at me with pity, no doubt wondering about my red eyes, running nose, and the tears dripping off my chin.

Once I was home, I had to sit in the car for several minutes, trying to calm myself enough to not wake the people I live with with my sobs.

It is hard.

So many changes, so many disruptions to my usual routines. So much work to do, so little progress seeming to be made. So much on my mind, so much in my heart, so much.

It’s overwhelming, it’s…

It’s hard.

If you get a chance, pray for me.

Pray that I would sleep. Pray that I would remember to eat. Pray that I wouldn’t stress about all that has to be done. Pray that I would have discernment to know what doesn’t have to be done.

And pray for Daniel, who has to put up with this crazy-emotional-woman turning his life and routines and home upside down.