I Finally Did It! (A happy/sad/embarrassing story of procrastination)

Dearest Snow,
How can I ever thank you? I'm forever in your debt!

If you hadn't kept us home bound for four delicious days, we would have missed the hot chocolate.
We would have missed the finger numbing fun of readjusting the plastic bags over our sneakers as we plodded around the yard.
And we would have missed seeing this face.

Thanks!

You provided us a ton of fun, but there's something else, something more amazing that particularly compelled me to write. It's a little humiliating, so don't tell anyone. Ready?

Snow, if you hadn't come to visit, the couch in my bedroom would still look like this.


And often like this.

See, after two days of hot chocolate and oatmeal cookies warm from the oven, of tromps through our neighborhood and gazing at the moon on the breast of you, I began to get bored.
A nice kind of bored. The kind that comes with mysterious urges to do useful things.
Things like organizing the linen closet and cleaning out the junk drawer in the kitchen.
And when I finished all that stuff, the couch called to me.

[Readers, remember the couch? I'm embarrassed to remind you that back in August, I wrote a post titled Unfinished Business in which I shared how I'd found the flowery couch for $25 at a garage sale back in the spring of 2008. I planned to slipcover it in red denim for my bedroom and got as far as finishing the pillows. Then I took a long look at the frame, took a second long look at the 17 yards of red denim, and decided I should really start a blog. That was three years ago! In my August post, I preached on how good it feels to finish unfinished projects, and challenged my readers to whip me with a wet noodle if I didn't finish the couch project by August 18.
Nobody whipped me. Y'all are way too nice.]

Snow, if it weren't for you, this would have never happened!

Yey!
You helped me remember how good it feels to face something I've been avoiding.
It feels GREAT!
It makes me wonder what other things I could cross of my list.
I think I'm going to make this a late resolution for 2011: When I pick up a To Do list, find the item I want to do least, and take care of it first.
So thank you, Snow!
Love, Becky

Readers, I wonder if I can do it. I don't usually suffer from a tendency to procrastinate when it comes to my work, but in other parts of my life? Oh yeah. (You should see the attic. Maybe on another snowy day...no, it would take a snowy week!)

Do you fight the urge to procrastinate? What helps you face what you want to avoid?

Have a great Tuesday, y'all!
Love, Becky

Thanks to Phototrope for the first photo, licensed through creative commons.

On Throwing Paper Airplanes in Church

I should have known something was up when I picked up my Sam from youth choir rehearsal one day last fall, asked him how it went, and he said, "IT WAS AWESOME!"

Not that he doesn't usually enjoy youth choir. He likes it fine, but IT WAS AWESOME! isn't his usual response.

So I wondered what made it so amazing, so different. I knew the choir had rehearsed in the sanctuary for their upcoming musical, not in their regular spot in the choir room, but surely that wasn't it.

Sam sits in this sanctuary just about every week,

often with the same enthusiasm he demonstrates when I make him put away his clean underwear and socks.

So on the drive home, Sam told me the reason for the twinkly eyes and sudden zeal. I should tell you that the Dana Carvey church lady in me just about had to pull out of traffic and search the minivan for smelling salts!

It seems that his mother had been a ding dong and dropped him off an hour early (in my defense, they changed the time,) so with an extra hour to spare, he and the other sixth grade boys with ding dong mothers had found some worthwhile pursuits to while away the time.

Pursuits like climbing to the top of the balcony and throwing paper airplanes.

"It was so fun!" Sam said. "You wouldn't believe how fun it was! Oh, and you got double points if you hit the baptistery!"

I nearly choked on my tongue.

But that wasn't all they did.
Nope.

"That sanctuary room is amazing! Have you ever thought of how many hiding places it has?"
"No, I don't think I have."
"There's the pews of course. Dozens of those. I counted them one Sunday when I was bored, but I don't remember how many there were."


"But the best place is that little nook in front of the organ. You know, behind that short little wall? You can hide there and NOBODY will find you. You could do ANYTHING and nobody would know!"

"But you know the best part?"
"I can't imagine."
"The secret slide!"
"What secret slide?"
Sam explained it, but allow me to show you.
See how the pews are arranged theater style, descending toward the front of the church?


Well, take a look at this...


Now come closer.

Yep. That's the secret slide.
I doubt it works for adults, but it might. I haven't tried it.
Come to think of it, I could have been brave and given it a try if I'd wanted to. Nobody was in the room when I was taking pictures.
Sam says it's real slippery and slide-y. You just lie on your back, push off with your hands, and whatever you do, don't raise your head up. Those pews have sharp edges.

The whole time I was listening to Sam , I have to admit, I was having a fight with myself.
Part of me was thinking I should probably thump him on the head. Launch myself into a lecture about sacred space and reverence.
The other part of me secretly wondered what time of day might be best. Just when might no one notice a forty-something woman putting down her purse, taking off her shoes, and slipping under the center of the very back pew?

In case you're wondering, the forty-something secret slider won my internal debate.
You know who convinced me?
The sanctuary itself.

You might not notice it at first, even if you're sitting right there in a pew, but the worship room of First Baptist Church, Greenville, is designed to make us feel as if we're sitting under a huge tree together.

See the branches and limbs hanging over? The mammoth trunk rising up behind the pulpit?
Can't you imagine a crowd sitting under a tree, listening to Christ tell his stories? The children wouldn't sit stone faced. They'd play!
I can't imagine a better place.
But not during worship, of course. That might just earn you a thump on the head. :)

So what do you think? How do we manage teaching our kids reverence without worshiping the things of our sacred spaces? I'd love to hear your thoughts about finding play in church!

Have a beautiful, wonder-full weekend, y'all!
Love, Becky

Thanks to Renée Turner for the paper airplane photo, licensed through creative commons.

Watching Cat TV

Libby's enjoying a late Christmas present...a window seat to the Bird Channel!
With seven inches of snow, topped off with ice, the cardinals and finches have rediscovered our feeders.

It's great entertainment for a cat-- and for us.

Watching them hurry in, so hungry.


Or just nibble quietly.


I love to see them feed each other.

It reminds me what my friends (like you) do for me.

Equip me to keep going.

Help me puff up my feathers against the cold, with energy in reserve to enjoy--and see--the wonders around me.

The elegance of the ordinary birds


As well as the flashier ones.

We all need nourishment for the journey.


You know, all these redbirds remind me of a book I haven't reread in a while.

Do you know it? It's one of my favorites.
Perfect to read on a snowy afternoon like this one.
Libby, I'll leave you to the window.


Don't worry about the birds, folks. Libby's an inside cat for the time being, and besides, some of those fellas look like they could take her, should she make a surprise appearance.

Have a great Tuesday, y'all!
Love, Becky

PS. Thanks to Todd for all these great photos!

Meet Our New Addition!

Isn't she a sweet girl?
Libby looks so dainty and demure in that photo, but don't let her fool you.

Innocent she's not.
That's a look that says, "Yes, I will wear this ridiculous bow to give you a false sense of ownership, but just wait. You shall look into my eyes and I shall hypnotize you. Serve me, human."

Yes, Libby. We will obey.

Here she is, hypnotizing Tanner. (After he got his first full snort of her behind. Some pictures are best not shown.)


After the introductions were over, Libby commanded Tanner to play Jingle Bells.

He did his best.

Then she made Tanner watch while she played chess.


The pieces are wonderfully rolly on a hardwood floor.


Playing so hard tuckers them out, so they take lots of naps.


Libby loves, loves, loves to sleep.
Especially if it's on top of people.

Sam loves it.
Me? I'm not so sure.
She slept on my back one night. That was weird.

She probably sleeps so much because of all the running she does. And the hopping.


And the leaping tall buildings.

Zombie eyes!
Look away!
She won't come down until we make her a landing pad of pillows.
(I guess she does have us trained.)

Libby also trains us to dangle string.

It's just about her favorite thing.

Tanner tried it too...


But then he got distracted by Libby's zombie eyes again.

Maybe she's hypnotizing herself.

He just doesn't get her fascination with boxes.


He investigated, but there wasn't anything edible in there.

No hummus. No bones. Not even a stale tortilla.
Why bother.


The whole box business was very tiring, so it was nap time again.

At least I think that's what she's doing. Of course, it could be some kind of trick.

You know, I suddenly feel a strange compulsion to go buy string.
Maybe I'll stop at the U-Haul place and pick up some extra boxes while I'm out.


Have a delightful weekend, y'all!
Before you scoot, tell me, are you a cat person? Dog lover? I'd love to hear about the pets at your house.
Love, Becky

Happy New Year, Paul Bunyan

How did you welcome in the new year?
We lit a fire and stood around it in the freezing cold, watching the flames flicker, the dog snap at flying sparks, and Sam pile on the logs. Now that he is 12, he was finally allowed to fulfill his life long ambition to swing an axe, so we had a winter's worth of kindling stacked up. (Probably three bonfires worth-- remember, this is South Carolina.)

The family loved it at first. We roasted a couple marshmallows, poked at the fire, enjoyed the smell of the smoke and the quiet of the night. But eventually the grandparents got cold, Ben and Sarah got bored, and Sam got spooked by a ghostly voice from the tree house up the hill, leaving Todd and me all by our lonesome, fireside.

It was kind of nice.
We were quiet at first.
In some ways, it's been a really tough year.
We were glad to throw our worries of 2010 into the flames.
The car accident. The health scare that turned out to be nothing, but petrified us for a while. The wandering on my part, wondering what God might hold for me in the future. What to do, where to put my energy.

We talked a little but we didn't need to say much. Each of us knew what the other was thinking, doing. Tossing into the flames all the balled up, pent up worries and struggles of 2010. Sending them into the fire, to turn to ash, then settle at the bottom or let the wind lift them into the night, away from us, into the sky.

It was a good way to start 2011. Letting go of the worries and disappointments and fears of the past, freeing my hands for whatever life gives me in this new year.
I'm so thankful for new beginnings. Aren't you?
And I'm thankful for dear friends like you, both online and across the street, who share this crazy, wondrous life with me.

I wish you only God's best for 2011!

Much love, Becky

A Visit to a Buddhist Temple

Have you ever been to a Buddhist temple?
I hadn't, until Saturday, but I'm so glad I went.

In sixth grade social studies class, the kids learn about world religions. Sam is planning a project in which he builds a miniature city complete with a Christian church, a Jewish temple, a mosque, and a Buddhist temple. Tall order, huh?

Sam has practically grown up inside a Christian church, but the other buildings? We're not so familiar with those. How can you build something if you don't really know what it looks like?
It was a perfect excuse to do some visiting.

The Place of Peace was first on our list.

It's a inter-generational temple once belonging to the Tsuzuki family in Nagoya, Japan. When the Tsuzukis donated it to Furman University, it was taken apart, piece by piece, and reassembled on the campus grounds.


I remember reading that during the temple's dedication, Seiji Tsuzuki spoke about his memories of sweeping the leaves around the temple when he was a boy.

Its craftsmanship is amazing.

The temple reminds me what I appreciate and so respect about the religion of Buddhism: the importance given to mindfulness, to paying attention to ones everyday life. That's such an important part of my Christian faith--to look for God's presence around me, to find God in the normal walk of life.

To find God in the details and in the big picture.

I love this simple fountain by the entrance.

It reminds me of the laver we've taught our Sunday school kids about, and how the Old Testament priests would wash themselves as a purifying ritual before going into the temple to worship.

See those shelve on the front porch of the temple? You take off your shoes before entering and place them there. The temple was locked so we couldn't go inside. Maybe another time.

No matter. There was plenty of God to go around just by walking across the campus.


See what I mean?







A perfect acorn, in the shade of a mighty oak. What a symbol of God's transforming power. His easy grace, dropping from the sky.


All living things seemed to pulse with God's presence that afternoon. I wanted to be like the roots of the tree, rising up, bursting out of the ground, to celebrate God's goodness.

Tanner got so excited that he baptized himself in the pond!

Careful! He'll spray you with stinky pond water!

As for me, I'll just focus on this burning bush.


Excuse me while I take off my shoes and worship.


Have a wonder-full Monday, y'all!
Love to you!
Becky