Flocked

flamingoI dropped by my folk’s home this evening to borrow a DVD–and discovered that sometime in the last few days, a mini-flock of these
had landed in their lawn.

One in particular caught my eye
flamingo with note around its neck. This flamingo sat right by the front door bearing a peculiar note addressed to “THE MENTERZ”. I talked to Mom later and learned that the letter inside said that we’d been flocked by “You know who. NOT!”

The flamingos are part of a Z-360 fundraiser. Individuals can pay $15 to get a flock of flamingos to migrate to someone’s yard. Z-360 offers free removal of the flock after 48 hours–or the individual who was flocked can opt to send them on to someone else for only $10. What a deal! I keep hoping that someone will flock me so I can get the discount rate. ;-)


Goal Crazy

I’ve been working fervently behind the scenes to upgrade my website to version 6. My first order of business was redoing the About Me segment. Version 5 included selected items from my list of life goals–so I thought I’d expand that in version 6.

I’ve always known I had a lot of goals. I just didn’t quite get how many until I started recording them on a website–and discovered that I definitely couldn’t put them all on one page. Three pages still includes much too much scrolling. And those are only the easily categorized goals: Arts and Crafts, Educational, and Travel. That doesn’t include spiritual goals, health goals, homemaking goals–and the myriads of hard-to-classify goals.

I’ve removed the goals that I’ve categorized from my “master list” that I have been keeping for years on my computer. With those gone, my “master list” is ONLY 51 pages long. Amazing!

Are you a goal setter? Do we have any of the same goals? I’d love to work on them together! ;-)


Packing my bag

I am a firm believer in having mottoes for life. One of mine is “Always have a bag packed.” The idea popped into my head one day as I was brainstorming story ideas–and I’ve worked towards it ever since.

I’m reminded of the Passover Seder, where participants are dressed in cloak and sandals–ready to depart as soon as God works their deliverance. I’ve always loved all the symbolism of the Passover–and this motto seemed to fit right in. I have my bag packed literally because I can never know when I might be offered the chance to travel on the fly. And I figuratively have my bag packed, ready to obey whenever God says “go”.

In the literal sense, I have a carry-on size suitcase that I carefully repack after each trip. It contains just what’s needed for a week-long excursion–or longer if you do laundry:

  • 1 pair slacks
  • 2 skirts
  • 1 pair capris
  • 1 versatile jumper
  • 6 short sleeve knit tops
  • 1 t-shirt
  • 1 blazer
  • 1 chiffon scarf
  • 1 bandana
  • 1 pair flip-flops
  • underwear for a week

In addition, the main compartment contains:

  • 2 Hankies
  • Toilet paper
  • Laundry bag
  • Extra bags
  • Feminine Products

The front pockets of the bag contain all the necessities of life:

  • Sewing kit
  • Mini first aid kit
  • Toiletries
  • Minimal makeup/hair stuff
  • Pens/Notebook/Glue Stick/Notecards
  • Plastic eating utensils
  • Solar calculator
  • Batteries
  • Flashlight

It’s all ready so that all I have to do is grab my Bible, my meds, and any seasonal supplies (swimsuit or coat or whatever) and go. In case I’m headed out of the country, my passport and appropriate information is hidden away elsewhere in the house inside a travel wallet.

The figurative sense, the deeper sense, of the motto is a bit harder to do. I find myself growing attached to the things of this earth, comfortable with my church, my job, my home. I slip into complacency and collect thing after thing. But in the back of my mind, my motto reminds me: “At any time, God could call you away from all this. Are you ready to go?”

I’ve heard back from a family friend in Mexico. She confirms that she is still looking for someone to come down and tutor her 14 year old daughter. Am I ready to go? I’ll have to finagle a few things, jimmy a few details. I’ll have to take some time off work, maybe raise a wee bit of money. I’ll have to figure out how to get down there. But otherwise, I’m ready to go. The only thing to deal with is details–not whether I’ll be able to go. I’ve been working towards a schedule, a life, that will give me this freedom–the freedom to drop it all and answer the call of God.

So today, my first day back from a week in Illinois, I did my laundry and repacked my bag. I popped a Spanish tape in my car cassette player. My bag’s packed, Lord. Send me wherever You will.


Getting Lost in IL

This weekend surely was not my time to shine as a Navigational Star. Debbie and I have gotten lost at least once every time we have ventured out alone.

On Friday, we drove up to Cantigny Park in Wheaton, IL. Uncle Steve had printed out MapQuest directions for us to get there–but sometimes MapQuest just doesn’t do the job. Like when you miss a “right turn onto exit ramp for such and such a street” and loop around back to that street and decide to take a left turn onto it so that you’ll still be heading in the same direction. Except that “right turn onto exit ramp for such and such a street” loops you around so that you’re really heading LEFT from the original direction–and taking a left from the opposite direction will direct you in the opposite way! (My main beef with MapQuest is its lack of directions–it always states R, L, etc., but never E, W, N, S.)

Then there was today. We were going into Chicago for the day to tour a couple of museums–armed with a Metra train schedule, a hand-drawn map from Aunt Rachel directing us to the train station, and a Chicago guidebook I’d checked out of the library back in Lincoln. We arrived at the train station in plenty of time for our 9:48 departure–only to be told that since today was a holiday, the Metra was running on the Sunday schedule and the next train wouldn’t be in until 10:48. We walked over to watch the town’s Memorial Day event while we were waiting and made it back to the train station for the 10:48 train.

We arrived in Ogilvie Transportation Center somewhere around 12:30–and I pulled out my guidebook so that we could make our way down to Field Museum–our first stop for the day. Problem was, I was looking at the map that said “Upper Loop” and it didn’t have “Canal Street” anywhere. So I was trying to ascertain our location based only on “Monroe Street” (or whatever that street was) and a vague thought that a river was located nearby. We started walking. The neighborhood became less and less dense–we saw fewer and fewer skyscrapers. We started to wonder if maybe we were going in the wrong direction. Ducking into a Walgreens for a quick restroom break and a chance to regroup, we discovered that we had been heading due WEST–away from the lake. The more comprehensive map in the back of the guidebook got us straightened out and we finally made our way to Field. We probably only added a mile or two to our already long jaunt.

The ride home was a breeze. Take the train back to Woodstock, drive along this road and that until we get home. We took all the right turns, recognized all the roads. It was great. We were on a roll. Until we got to one intersection that I wasn’t sure I recognized. It was a two way stop with a flashing light, and the intersection was set at a bit of an angle. Debbie thought she remembered it so we continued on. We were looking for the turn off to Rachel and Steve’s neighborhood. It couldn’t be that hard, we knew what it looked like. We knew it was on the right side of the road. We couldn’t miss it. So we drove on…and on…and on. We drove past farm after farm after farm–and were almost certain that we were NOT getting any closer to town. We turned around and called Steve and Rachel. “Um. This is Debbie. We’re on River Road and we’re lost.” Turns out their neighborhood was before the intersection Debbie had recognized and I hadn’t–we’d been too busy talking to notice the turnoff when we’d passed it. And the intersection? Well, Debbie recognized it from when we’d turned onto it to get gas on FRIDAY when we’d gone to Cantigny. Go figure!

I’m really not as bad with directions as this weekend might make me out to be. Honest!


Thanks a lot, Jack

I woke up yesterday with a dozen things to do–finish my morning routine, empty out my car, take the car down to Walmart to get his oil changed and everything checked, grab some last minute groceries, pack everything into the car (including last minute items), clean out the fridge, turn off my computer, vacuum the dirt from the planted pot I knocked over the night before, take out the trash, lock up the house, and fill the car up with gas–all before 9 am when we would be leaving.

I dropped Anna and Debbie off at Mom and Dad’s house to hang out with the others while I filled up with gas at the corner gas station. I filled up and got into the car. I turned the key in the ignition. Nothing. No radio, no lights, nothing. Certainly not the engine turning over. I jiggled the gear shift and repeated. Nothing. I turned the steering wheel and repeated. Still nothing. I called my parents in desperation. Joseph and Daniel came out to help–and discovered that they couldn’t do anything either. Thanks a lot, Jack.

We decided to go in Dan’s car instead. We transferred all our stuff into his car and pushed my car into a parking spot. Mom called Dad to let him know what we’d decided to do–He said, “Good luck. If Danny’s car dies on the way, leave it there.” If you haven’t guessed, my Dad doesn’t have that much confidence in Dan’s car. Nonetheless, we made it there safely–and even in time for Rachel’s homemade pizza before Aaron’s eighth grade graduation.

I mentioned our car situation at the dinner table, and Uncle Steve’s Dad pipes up: “Well, that could be just a loose battery cable.” I said I hoped so. When it was about time to go to bed and I took out my cell phone to recharge it overnight, I saw that I had missed a call from my mom. Her message said that Dad had gone to look at Jack and that it was just a loose battery cable–so it’s all fixed now. Thanks a lot, Jack!

Not that it’s really been that bad. Debbie and I didn’t end up driving ourselves on the way up–Dan drove us instead. That meant we didn’t get good private girl time–but it also meant we didn’t have to drive, or follow Joseph’s less than stellar leadership (that is, as a leader of a caravan). And Dan’s car does get better gas mileage than Jack does–especially a plus once we reached Illinois, where gas prices range from $4.009 to $4.299 per gallon. Ouch! So I suppose, other than teaching me a bit about humility and flexibility and forgiveness, the switch wasn’t that bad. Thanks a lot, Jack.


Road Trip

Debbie and I have been discussing going on a road trip for years–probably 4 or more. But we’ve always discovered problems that have kept us from doing so–our crazy schedules, her unreliable car, Benny (my old car) going on the fritz, my dad and hers feeling uncomfortable with just the girls traveling alone. So we haven’t gone.

But tomorrow morning, that’s all going to change. My Cousin Matt is graduating from high school in Illinois this weekend, and I decided to go up for it since I have Memorial Day off and have a few vacation days at work. I invited Debbie to come with me–and it just so happens that she was able to arrange to make it too. So we’re finally going on a road trip.

We’ll be taking Jack (my car, short for Clive Staples) and caravanning with my cousin Joe (Matt’s brother), my brother Dan, and Joe’s girlfriend Dana in my Aunt Patty’s van. We’ll drop my sister Anna off in Omaha at the airport for her flight into San Antonio for the national conference of the American Academy of Physician Assistants (and to spend time with her college roommate Emily). Then we’ll be on the road. We should get up in time for Matt’s little brother Aaron’s 8th grade graduation Thursday evening.

Matt’s graduation is on Saturday, and we plan on spending Saturday and Sunday with the family. Joe, Dan, and Dana will return to Lincoln on Sunday–and Debbie and I will stick around until Tuesday. We’ll head into Chicago on Friday or Monday or both. It just so happened that Debbie’s work really needed her on Wednesday–and my work offered to pay for me to get some ServeSafe training on Wednesday–so it works well for both of us to return on Tuesday.

It’ll be fun–a memory making trip, a chance to catch up, a chance to make good on old dreams, and a chance to cross another item off my list of things to do before I die. I’ll return home and type “DA: May 27, 2008” behind “Take road trip” in my “Goals” file. Date Accomplished. One of my favorite things to type. The day when talk became reality and dreams came true. And that day–well, it all starts tomorrow.


Love Languages

Looking at “Love Languages” comes and goes in popularity at my church. We hear a bit about it and then hear nothing for a long while before we hear it again. Each of the times it rises again, I take the test again, hoping to ascertain my personal “love language”. Every time, I am disappointed–as with every attempt to categorize myself, I find that I am on the border–or maybe I just want to think I’m different so I intentionally sabotage the results.

Then there are those people you can immediately place into a category–not because they are stereotypical, but because they abound so very much in that certain area. My friend Michelle jumps to mind. I don’t know how anybody who thinks about it could not see that her love language is gifts.

I’ve been helping Michelle move this last week–and as we’ve been packing or unpacking, she’ll find something she no longer wants and offer it to me. Or she’ll think of someone else who could use it. “This will be perfect for…” “I bought this for… but I forgot about it…so now I’ll give it to…” “Do you think … would enjoy this?” She’s so generous with everything–abounding in giving.

She reminds me of the chapter in II Corinthians where Paul speaks of the generosity of the Macedonians “that in a great trial of affliction…their deep poverty abounded in the riches of their liberality. for I bear witness that according to their ability, yes, and beyond their ability, they were freely willing…” (II Corinthians 8:2-3) Michelle is far from rich–she lives on government assistance and disability. She has what she needs–just barely. But even as she experiences want, even as she struggles under huge physical and emotional burdens, she searches out ways to shower gifts on others. She’ll go without so that she can give. That’s just the kind of person she is.

That’s certainly not my love language. I like giving gifts, and I like receiving them. But they’re not a way of life with me. I’m not sure what my love language is. I used to think that it was physical touch. I was always a very physically affectionate child–wanting hugs and kisses and sharing nose juice with Daddy (Eskimo kisses). My brother John’s love language is definitely physical touch–and that hasn’t lessened as he’s grown older. I don’t think my language is acts of service–that’s my Mom’s and I’m nothing like her on that count. I like to do stuff for people–but I generally don’t like receiving acts of service much–or at least, it doesn’t communicate love to me like it does to her. Which leaves quality time and words of affirmation. And those two are hard to determine between. I love spending time with people–I love a good quality chat–a chat of hearts to hearts and minds to minds. I like to do things together–like quilting with Joanna, or scrapbooking with Debbie, or eating lunch with my Dad. But I also really value the words–when someone recognizes something I’ve done, when my Dad compares me to my favorite role models, when I’m told that I matter.

I guess it isn’t so important that I know my own as it is that I know others–after all, what good does it do to know my own love language? A Love Language is something that one speaks involuntarily. I don’t need to learn how to speak my own language. Instead, I must seek to learn others’ languages–so that I can translate the love that I might easily speak in my own language into a language they can understand.

So tell me, what’s your language?


Questions, Comments, Observations?

In our 20s Sunday School, I’m fond of asking for “questions, comments, observations?” as we read each passage. But sometimes I forget to answer my own questions when I’m doing my personal reading. I read the word as I would a novel, taking it as it comes, doing it to pass time–or because “I’m reading every book in Eiseley Library.

I want to know God, to have an encounter with Him in the Word. I want to see God and to hear His voice through the Word. I want the Word to come alive. But it doesn’t seem that it is so–and even asking for it seems so often to be another dry religious ritual. Either I’m passionlessly asking for passion, or I’m conjuring emotion. It feels fake.

Sunday morning in Sunday school, I shared a bit of my struggles with the class–that just happened to be Debbie and two of my brothers. And I resolved yesterday that I was going to keep on seeking, keep on knocking. I resolved that even if I go through the flames, I will worship God and Him only.

Last night I read Matthew 4–and for the first time in a long time, I asked myself for questions, comments, and observations. And, to my surprise, I discovered a lot.

For instance, have you ever noticed that verse says that Jesus was “led by the Spirit into the wilderness”? The Spirit was leading; Jesus was following–and He ended up in the wilderness. So often when I end up in a wilderness, I get depressed because I figure that either the Spirit isn’t leading or I’m not following. I end up either mad at God or full of condemnation towards myself. But the Spirit led Jesus into the wilderness.

And then I noticed something new about the first temptation. Jesus had been fasting 40 days. He was hungry. The devil comes to Him and says “If you are the Son of Man, command these stones to become bread.” Now that’s a strange temptation. What’s sinful about making stones into bread? Jesus made water into wine–working that type of miracle apparently isn’t taboo. So why not just do it?

Jesus’ answer was deeper than the devil expected, I’m sure. “Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God.” The devil was urging Jesus to give into His body’s hunger. Satan would have loved for Christ to be ruled by the needs of His body, by the cares of His flesh. Satan would have loved it if Jesus had become concerned about what He was going to eat, where He was going to sleep, what He would wear. From the devil’s perspective–it would have been great if Jesus had lived for food and by His body’s hunger.

But the devil’s wish was denied. “Man doesn’t live by bread alone, but by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God.” I can see a bit of a double meaning in Jesus’ answer. Man can’t live on physical food–He must also be fed by the Word–that’s our traditional interpretation (and it’s correct too). But isn’t it also true–and do not Jesus’ actions illustrate that man cannot be led by his hunger for physical food–but He must “live by” and be led by the Word of God.

It was and continues to be a moment of slow epiphany for me. I “knew” the first meaning–and that’s why I kept plugging on with reading the Word–but the second meaning was lost in the shuffle. I was being led by my body–by going to work to pay the bills and coming home and keeping the house clean and eating meals and fulfilling all those things my body (and flesh) demands. I was simply seeking Maslow’s hierarchy of “needs”. But I was not living by the Word of God–I was not being led by the Word–such that at God’s word I travel or stand still.

Help me Lord, to live beyond bread–beyond the worries of this world. Help me to live by your word–hearing Your voice and obeying, following Your leading–whether to the garden or to the wilderness.


bekahcubed v.6

It’s been a while since I last updated my site. The current version (v.5) was created in early 2006. But even that is a bit deceptive. While I have made changes to the organization and content of the site in progressive updates, I have not updated the layout since v.3–in 2002.

So, a bit has changed since 2002 when I was last doing layouts. Using tables for formatting was standard then–and CSS was new. Now CSS is the only way to go. I learned rudimentary CSS for v.3–and used it for font attributes, backgrounds, etc.–but I still have a lot to learn. CSS Layouts require a special attention to nesting and organization of elements that I wasn’t used to in my earlier days.

And then there’s the browser problem. None of the popular web browsers are completely compliant with the W3C standards for CSS. So I created my template testing against Firefox (the most standards compliant web browser–you should consider switching to it if you haven’t already). Once I had the look I wanted in Firefox, I opened it in Microsoft Internet Explorer 7–and got a page with layout elements stacked on top of each other every which way. IE7 ignored my directions for specifying “heading” headers and “body” headers and instead stacked all of my headers in absolute position at the top of the screen–not exactly what I was going for. So I had to tweak my code to work around IE7’s issues.

You can take a look at my template page (with a little text pulled from my “pregnancy” file. Don’t freak out–I’m very interested in midwifery and doulas and the like–but I am certainly not about to become an unwed mother.) I’m not even bothering with tweaking for earlier versions of IE or other less common web browsers–unless a reader points out a difficulty. So let me know via comments or e-mail if you have problems viewing the template.

I have not started using v.6 yet because I’m doing more than just a layout change–I’m updating my offerings a bit, and working to make my code generally more compliant and user-friendly. For example, I have been “blogging” in one long paragraph that fills the entire page–using breaks for divisions between paragraphs you read and bold formatting for headers. Version 6 will use headers and paragraph code as they’re supposed to be used–hopefully making bot catalogueing and regular browsing a bit easier. I’ll also be translating all my code into XHTML compliant code. So I have to do a bit of copying and pasting and tweaking code for individual pages.

So, for now, enjoy the sneak preview, prepare for v.6 to launch within a month or so, and thank God that you didn’t decide to prepare your website manually!