Yesterday marked the start of the annual Trails West Festival in St. Joseph, MO. Every year at this time I am reminded of a gift, the last gift I ever gave to my beloved Gammy... A gift I didn't even pay for.
We moved to St. Joe in August of 2010. We had been here around 3 weeks when Trails West began, so we loaded up the kids and headed down to check it out. They have live music, activities for the kids, arts and crafts booths, and food vendors galore. We started with the stuff for the kiddos. It was hot, as it usually is in August. They had a blast making crafts, playing with giant bubbles, watching magicians, etc.
I wanted to walk through the booths, so we headed to that area of the park. As I was walking through I saw a lady who was selling her fused glass creations. After working to restore stained glass, I have always been interested in glass work, so I stopped to browse. She had a little basket with iridescent glass stud earrings. My first thought was of Gammy. She always loved iridescent things. She often commented about the beautiful colors they would pick up.
While we shopped and enjoyed our day, Gammy was back home, 4 hours away, fighting cancer. She had been diagnosed in May, I think. It had only been 4 months, but from the reports my mom was giving me, it wasn't looking good. My dad had just told me that I would be shocked when I saw her. It wasn't long until we were headed down there for a visit, but I worried about her and prayed for her recovery.
As I looked over several pairs of the earrings, I wanted to buy a pair for Gammy. We had just bought a house, moved to a new town and got kids started in school- an expensive time for any family, especially with 3 kids on one income! So, I decided against making the purchase and put the delicate studs down.
Just as I was going to walk away, the artist stopped me. "Didn't you find any you liked?" I told her I was just browsing, and they made me think of my grandma. I told her how she loved earrings like that and how she had just gotten her ears pierced not many years before. Then I told her that they were probably not practical since she is in bed most days fighting cancer.
At that point, the artist said, "Pick a pair. They are my gift to you and your grandma. Tell her to stay strong and beautiful." I told her that was very kind, but she didn't need to give me a pair. I could buy them. But she insisted. She put them in a little bag, thanked me for stopping in and sent best wishes to Gammy.
A couple of weeks later, I finally made the trip home. Just like my dad had told me, I was shocked by the decline in Gammy's health. She had always taken great pride in her appearance, worried about her "wild" hair, and dressed so pretty. Due to the treatments, she had lost her hair and lost so much weight she didn't even look like herself.
I gave her the earrings and she said, "Oh, Bekka, how beautiful and sparkly! Just look at those colors!" At that moment, even though she didn't look like herself, she sounded like herself. I told her the story of the generous artist. Then, she asked me to help her put them on.
I gently put the earrings into her ears. I don't think I had ever put earrings on another person. I was certain she could pull through and beat this cancer. I never imagined that this would be the last gift I gave her. Gammy passed away in November that year, just 3 days after Thanksgiving. She never took the earrings out.
I am grateful to the artist who was so kind to give me those earrings. I may have walked away that day and never had the chance to give my Gammy another gift. She gave me so much in her lifetime, I am thankful I had one last chance to let her know how much I thought of her, how much I loved her.
Saturday, August 20, 2016
Wednesday, June 1, 2016
$2.50
Camden asked for an egg sandwich today, and we were out of eggs. I told him I would pick some up after our first soccer game of the season, and he could have a sandwich for lunch.
On our way home, I ran in the grocery store. I was greeted by some Boy and Girl Scouts. They were "Scouting for Food". They gave me a list of things that were most needed in our local food pantry, and I quickly went on my way to grab the eggs. I was in there to get in and get out.
I was almost at the back of the store when I decided to pick up a gallon of milk, as well. So I have my eggs in one hand, my milk in the other and pass by a Velveeta display with a coupon for $1.00 off a package. Knowing I have a recipe that I have all of the ingredients for in my cabinet, except the Velveeta, I picked it up, too.
That's when I see the shells and cheese. I think about all of the hungry families, and how much my kids love the creaminess of Velveeta shells and cheese, and decide to add one of those to my precariously stacked groceries in my arms. One box is really all I could carry, $2.49 was the price.
I felt a little chintzy with my one box of food as I handed it to the scouts, especially when the guy before me handed them two bags full. But really, it was all I could carry at that moment, and I was in a rush while the family waited outside.
After I returned home, it struck me... What if every family who walked in the store today gave one item? It only added $2.50 to my bill. It would almost go unnoticed when added to a $50 grocery bill. But to a family who has nothing, it could provide a meal. There were no fewer than 10 people in line when I was there, and I was in the store for less than 10 minutes. Imagine if 60 people per hour donated 1 item. Canned food is less than a dollar, boxed dinners less than two. Minimal increase in your grocery bill, but it could make a huge difference!
From now on, I will make an effort to buy at least one of the much needed items on my regular shopping trips. Please consider joining me!
On our way home, I ran in the grocery store. I was greeted by some Boy and Girl Scouts. They were "Scouting for Food". They gave me a list of things that were most needed in our local food pantry, and I quickly went on my way to grab the eggs. I was in there to get in and get out.
I was almost at the back of the store when I decided to pick up a gallon of milk, as well. So I have my eggs in one hand, my milk in the other and pass by a Velveeta display with a coupon for $1.00 off a package. Knowing I have a recipe that I have all of the ingredients for in my cabinet, except the Velveeta, I picked it up, too.
That's when I see the shells and cheese. I think about all of the hungry families, and how much my kids love the creaminess of Velveeta shells and cheese, and decide to add one of those to my precariously stacked groceries in my arms. One box is really all I could carry, $2.49 was the price.
I felt a little chintzy with my one box of food as I handed it to the scouts, especially when the guy before me handed them two bags full. But really, it was all I could carry at that moment, and I was in a rush while the family waited outside.
After I returned home, it struck me... What if every family who walked in the store today gave one item? It only added $2.50 to my bill. It would almost go unnoticed when added to a $50 grocery bill. But to a family who has nothing, it could provide a meal. There were no fewer than 10 people in line when I was there, and I was in the store for less than 10 minutes. Imagine if 60 people per hour donated 1 item. Canned food is less than a dollar, boxed dinners less than two. Minimal increase in your grocery bill, but it could make a huge difference!
From now on, I will make an effort to buy at least one of the much needed items on my regular shopping trips. Please consider joining me!
Friday, February 20, 2015
Be Careful What You Pray For
Jackson is a co-manager at WalMart. Since he first decided to work his way up in management, his goal was to be a store manager. He has worked hard and impressed many, and is 1 promotion away from the store manager position.
As believers, we believe God has a plan. We also believe that God is working in our family here in St. Joe. For me, I am happy right where we are, but I know that Jackson wants to be promoted. So I pray. Every time he hears of an opening, I pray. When he gets chosen to do an interview, I pray. I pray for him, I pray for those making the decision, and I pray for us to follow God's will. I pray that we will know the right opportunity for him and for our family.
At some point recently, I realized that praying for a promotion within WalMart might be focusing too much on our wants, or what we think the future should be, not what God has in store for us. I can't say exactly when, but I started praying for a change. I prayed that if a store manager wasn't the direction Jackson should go, a door would open for him. I prayed about the possibility of another company. I prayed that he would get a change. I also prayed for us to be open, for me to be open to different possibilities. For 13 years, I have envisioned our future with Jackson working as a store manager. Maybe that isn't what is in the future for us, and I prayed we would see that. Or, maybe it is what our future will look like, but just not right now. So I prayed for patience. I, also, prayed prayers of thanks for my husband who works so hard and allows me to stay home primarily.
2 weeks ago Jackson received a call. They wanted him to be part of a high-profile project team in Bentonville, Arkansas- WalMart home office- about 5 hours away. Of course, I was wanting to play the part of the supportive wife, so I said yes, go the 6 weeks. We can make it. A few days later, he finds out the 6 weeks is actually 11 weeks! Yikes!
Change.
I had been praying most recently for change. A change for Jackson in his job. Not quite the change I was thinking of. I was thinking store manager of Kohl's, Target, a grocery store, not really thinking a change in location without us. I never once considered the change might leave me home alone with 4 kids. He will be able to come home on the weekends, but still... 11 weeks by myself. Running to and from school, church and activities. Can I do it? Can I handle this type of change?
Of course I can. I have to let go of the self-doubt. I have to believe that I am strong enough to handle this challenge. I have to remember that I prayed for a change, and I can pray for help. I prayed for patience, and I will continue to pray for patience. I prayed prayers of thanks, and I will continue those, as well. I don't have family in town, but I have family an hour away and church family and great friends. I have a network of people who love us. And this isn't about me. This is about a great opportunity that was given to my husband. This is about a wonderful honor. This is about change, and love, and gratitude, and I can do it.
As believers, we believe God has a plan. We also believe that God is working in our family here in St. Joe. For me, I am happy right where we are, but I know that Jackson wants to be promoted. So I pray. Every time he hears of an opening, I pray. When he gets chosen to do an interview, I pray. I pray for him, I pray for those making the decision, and I pray for us to follow God's will. I pray that we will know the right opportunity for him and for our family.
At some point recently, I realized that praying for a promotion within WalMart might be focusing too much on our wants, or what we think the future should be, not what God has in store for us. I can't say exactly when, but I started praying for a change. I prayed that if a store manager wasn't the direction Jackson should go, a door would open for him. I prayed about the possibility of another company. I prayed that he would get a change. I also prayed for us to be open, for me to be open to different possibilities. For 13 years, I have envisioned our future with Jackson working as a store manager. Maybe that isn't what is in the future for us, and I prayed we would see that. Or, maybe it is what our future will look like, but just not right now. So I prayed for patience. I, also, prayed prayers of thanks for my husband who works so hard and allows me to stay home primarily.
2 weeks ago Jackson received a call. They wanted him to be part of a high-profile project team in Bentonville, Arkansas- WalMart home office- about 5 hours away. Of course, I was wanting to play the part of the supportive wife, so I said yes, go the 6 weeks. We can make it. A few days later, he finds out the 6 weeks is actually 11 weeks! Yikes!
Change.
I had been praying most recently for change. A change for Jackson in his job. Not quite the change I was thinking of. I was thinking store manager of Kohl's, Target, a grocery store, not really thinking a change in location without us. I never once considered the change might leave me home alone with 4 kids. He will be able to come home on the weekends, but still... 11 weeks by myself. Running to and from school, church and activities. Can I do it? Can I handle this type of change?
Of course I can. I have to let go of the self-doubt. I have to believe that I am strong enough to handle this challenge. I have to remember that I prayed for a change, and I can pray for help. I prayed for patience, and I will continue to pray for patience. I prayed prayers of thanks, and I will continue those, as well. I don't have family in town, but I have family an hour away and church family and great friends. I have a network of people who love us. And this isn't about me. This is about a great opportunity that was given to my husband. This is about a wonderful honor. This is about change, and love, and gratitude, and I can do it.
Wednesday, September 10, 2014
#9
We had only been married for a year or two when I decided to ask Jackson why he loved me. He thought about it for much longer than I thought he should, and all he came up with was because he married me.
What? You married me because you love me, not the other way around!
Fortunately for him, I didn't get angry, or hurt, I just laughed. I know he's not always great with using words to express his feelings. He most often chooses the funny cards over the heart-felt cards(though, in recent years, he's become very good at choosing cards that make me teary). He isn't like my first boyfriend who was constantly writing love letters and poems. So, I laughed. We continue to laugh about this, and he has yet to tell me a reason why he loves me.
Last month though, I realized how often he tells me how much he loves me without using words. Who knew he could express his love in something as simple as a number?
Back in college, our Christian Campus Ministry had an intramural soccer team. The guys decided to make jerseys out of blue camouflage t-shirts and spray paint. Jackson took the job of spray painting the numbers on the shirts. We had a group of girls who were dating the guys, and they decided to make the girlfriends' shirts with negative numbers. At the time, neither one of us was dating anyone significant, and he asked me if I would be his fan. When he was getting everyone's numbers, I told him he should choose number 9. I always chose it because Nine is my mom's maiden name. So he was 9 and I was -9.
Since, he has chosen #9 for different sports he's played and encouraged our children to choose #9 when they have the chance. I never really thought too much about the significance of it until he was signed up to play in this year's alumni soccer game. I didn't give any thought to what number he would be, but as I was sitting there watching, and saw him come onto the field in the #9 jersey, knowing(without him telling me) that he chose that number because of its meaning to me and our family, I couldn't help but smile.
He doesn't have to come up with lists of reasons why he loves me. He doesn't have to write love letters and poems. Choosing a number is enough. And, I will do my best to always remember it.
What? You married me because you love me, not the other way around!
Fortunately for him, I didn't get angry, or hurt, I just laughed. I know he's not always great with using words to express his feelings. He most often chooses the funny cards over the heart-felt cards(though, in recent years, he's become very good at choosing cards that make me teary). He isn't like my first boyfriend who was constantly writing love letters and poems. So, I laughed. We continue to laugh about this, and he has yet to tell me a reason why he loves me.
Last month though, I realized how often he tells me how much he loves me without using words. Who knew he could express his love in something as simple as a number?
Back in college, our Christian Campus Ministry had an intramural soccer team. The guys decided to make jerseys out of blue camouflage t-shirts and spray paint. Jackson took the job of spray painting the numbers on the shirts. We had a group of girls who were dating the guys, and they decided to make the girlfriends' shirts with negative numbers. At the time, neither one of us was dating anyone significant, and he asked me if I would be his fan. When he was getting everyone's numbers, I told him he should choose number 9. I always chose it because Nine is my mom's maiden name. So he was 9 and I was -9.
Since, he has chosen #9 for different sports he's played and encouraged our children to choose #9 when they have the chance. I never really thought too much about the significance of it until he was signed up to play in this year's alumni soccer game. I didn't give any thought to what number he would be, but as I was sitting there watching, and saw him come onto the field in the #9 jersey, knowing(without him telling me) that he chose that number because of its meaning to me and our family, I couldn't help but smile.
He doesn't have to come up with lists of reasons why he loves me. He doesn't have to write love letters and poems. Choosing a number is enough. And, I will do my best to always remember it.
Tuesday, July 29, 2014
The Golden Rule
Facebook and I have a love/hate relationship. I love Facebook for the interaction it gives me with my distant family and friends. I enjoy seeing their photos and reading about what is going on in their neck of the woods. I hate it for providing an outlet to share all of the negativism that goes on in the world.
Don't get me wrong, I think it is important to know what kinds of things are happening out there. I don't want to shelter myself from bad things. But post, after post, after post of persecution, terrorism, illness, disease, etc. can get pretty discouraging. That isn't even to mention the comments, but they deserve a mention. Every other comment seems to be attacking either the original post, the intelligence of the poster, or the other commenters. It just seems that very few people have anything nice to say anymore.
I have really been thinking about all this negativism, pondering what could be done to improve life for us all. Then it came to me... Many of us learned the answer in nursery school.
The Golden Rule, if everyone would follow it, the world would be a much better place.
The Golden Rule, as I know it from Sunday school, is taken from Matthew 7:12, "So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you, for this sums up the Law and the Prophets." But similar direction be found in many of the world's religions.
Treat others how you would want them to treat you. What a concept!
Would I want someone to steal my things? No? Maybe I shouldn't steal. Would I want someone to murder my family? No? Maybe I shouldn't murder those people. Would I want someone to kidnap my child? No? Maybe I should leave their kid alone. Would I want someone running me out of my home based on my beliefs? No? Maybe I shouldn't be doing it to others.
See a theme here? I can only imagine the greatness of this world if everyone would get on board and remember the Golden Rule.
And along the same lines, people should really remember that if you don't have something nice to say, don't say anything at all.
Recently, my city was found to be the 2nd most unhappy city in the United States. I would kind of like to argue this, since I know a bunch of seemingly happy people, but I realize I don't know anywhere close to the 75,000+ people who live here. I also know how many negative comments to local news stories and events I have seen on Facebook and the news sites posted by residents of my city.
I am always amazed by the people who start attacking those who also comment. We all have different opinions. Mine might be different than yours, but I am not going to call you an idiot, question your upbringing, attack your family, or wish death upon you for it, especially on a public forum. I must admit that the question of your intelligence or upbringing might cross my mind, but I believe in being polite. Respectfully disagreeing. Saving my breath for saying nice things and making my words count.
Think about how good you feel when you get a compliment, when someone praises something you have done. I am confident that if everyone made it as much their business to uplift and encourage one another as they do to tear each other down, we would all be happier.
But a girl can only hope.
Don't get me wrong, I think it is important to know what kinds of things are happening out there. I don't want to shelter myself from bad things. But post, after post, after post of persecution, terrorism, illness, disease, etc. can get pretty discouraging. That isn't even to mention the comments, but they deserve a mention. Every other comment seems to be attacking either the original post, the intelligence of the poster, or the other commenters. It just seems that very few people have anything nice to say anymore.
I have really been thinking about all this negativism, pondering what could be done to improve life for us all. Then it came to me... Many of us learned the answer in nursery school.
The Golden Rule, if everyone would follow it, the world would be a much better place.
The Golden Rule, as I know it from Sunday school, is taken from Matthew 7:12, "So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you, for this sums up the Law and the Prophets." But similar direction be found in many of the world's religions.
Treat others how you would want them to treat you. What a concept!
Would I want someone to steal my things? No? Maybe I shouldn't steal. Would I want someone to murder my family? No? Maybe I shouldn't murder those people. Would I want someone to kidnap my child? No? Maybe I should leave their kid alone. Would I want someone running me out of my home based on my beliefs? No? Maybe I shouldn't be doing it to others.
See a theme here? I can only imagine the greatness of this world if everyone would get on board and remember the Golden Rule.
And along the same lines, people should really remember that if you don't have something nice to say, don't say anything at all.
Recently, my city was found to be the 2nd most unhappy city in the United States. I would kind of like to argue this, since I know a bunch of seemingly happy people, but I realize I don't know anywhere close to the 75,000+ people who live here. I also know how many negative comments to local news stories and events I have seen on Facebook and the news sites posted by residents of my city.
I am always amazed by the people who start attacking those who also comment. We all have different opinions. Mine might be different than yours, but I am not going to call you an idiot, question your upbringing, attack your family, or wish death upon you for it, especially on a public forum. I must admit that the question of your intelligence or upbringing might cross my mind, but I believe in being polite. Respectfully disagreeing. Saving my breath for saying nice things and making my words count.
Think about how good you feel when you get a compliment, when someone praises something you have done. I am confident that if everyone made it as much their business to uplift and encourage one another as they do to tear each other down, we would all be happier.
But a girl can only hope.
Monday, June 16, 2014
Garage Sale Success
I took a full van load down to my sister's a few weeks ago. Loaded the thing up! Her garage was stuffed full of her things no longer needed after merging her house with her husband's. She also had a couple of friends who brought things by. We had a huge sale!
We spent most of a Saturday selling our cast offs. I wasn't too impressed with the amount of money I made. I was hoping for grand numbers, not the measly $150 I managed to sell. My sister did much better, and I was a little envious, until I really started thinking about what I had accomplished.
Obviously, I had $150 more than I had the day before. But the real satisfaction came when I realized I was free from a ton of stuff... A full van plus 3 small boxes I took the night before the sale. I came back home with 2 and 1/2 totes and a couple of bigger toys. That is it. Everything I brought home fit in the back of my van!
It also felt great to know I had helped others with my stuff. One man had 5 kids and said he wanted every pair of tennis shoes that could possibly fit them. A woman came by wanting to make a deal on shoes. I was hesitant because I wanted the most I could possibly get for them, they were still in good shape! She told me she needed them cheap because she was shipping them to Africa. Knowing that the things I sold were going to good use, made it worth selling dirt cheap. Sure I didn't make as much money as I had hoped, but I am pretty sure I made a difference to someone.
If nothing else, I know I made a difference for our family. We still have a way more than we need, but we are down a van-ful, and that feels great!
We spent most of a Saturday selling our cast offs. I wasn't too impressed with the amount of money I made. I was hoping for grand numbers, not the measly $150 I managed to sell. My sister did much better, and I was a little envious, until I really started thinking about what I had accomplished.
Obviously, I had $150 more than I had the day before. But the real satisfaction came when I realized I was free from a ton of stuff... A full van plus 3 small boxes I took the night before the sale. I came back home with 2 and 1/2 totes and a couple of bigger toys. That is it. Everything I brought home fit in the back of my van!
It also felt great to know I had helped others with my stuff. One man had 5 kids and said he wanted every pair of tennis shoes that could possibly fit them. A woman came by wanting to make a deal on shoes. I was hesitant because I wanted the most I could possibly get for them, they were still in good shape! She told me she needed them cheap because she was shipping them to Africa. Knowing that the things I sold were going to good use, made it worth selling dirt cheap. Sure I didn't make as much money as I had hoped, but I am pretty sure I made a difference to someone.
If nothing else, I know I made a difference for our family. We still have a way more than we need, but we are down a van-ful, and that feels great!
Friday, May 2, 2014
On the Road to Becoming a Minimalist
If you know me... feel free to laugh!
I know, I know. Minimalist? Not really a word anyone would EVER use to describe me. I have always been a keeper. Compared to others I know, I am not super sentimental. I am more of a practical keeper. What might I possibly need in the near, or distant, future? What might it be hard to replace? The question I need to ask is, would I really replace it?
That light bulb moment I wrote about awhile back... it has brought me to this point. I have been searching, exploring, planning, and acting. I have a huge pile of things to get rid of. I have taken many loads to the recycling center. I have a long, long way to go.
In the book Clutterfree with Kids, and in his blog becomingminimalist.com, Joshua Becker talks about his family's journey to becoming minimalists, and what that means to them. He describes it as "the intentional promotion of the things we most value and the removal of everything that distracts from it." Right now, I am at a point where I am trying to figure out what this means for our family. We will never be able to own the bare minimum. We will still have toys and books and kitchen gadgets, and probably too much of them. But I am on the road.
I am enjoying the idea of living with less stuff. More time for family and fun. More money for things that are important. Less time cleaning and organizing. Can I really do it? Can we really do it? Only time will tell...
I know, I know. Minimalist? Not really a word anyone would EVER use to describe me. I have always been a keeper. Compared to others I know, I am not super sentimental. I am more of a practical keeper. What might I possibly need in the near, or distant, future? What might it be hard to replace? The question I need to ask is, would I really replace it?
That light bulb moment I wrote about awhile back... it has brought me to this point. I have been searching, exploring, planning, and acting. I have a huge pile of things to get rid of. I have taken many loads to the recycling center. I have a long, long way to go.
In the book Clutterfree with Kids, and in his blog becomingminimalist.com, Joshua Becker talks about his family's journey to becoming minimalists, and what that means to them. He describes it as "the intentional promotion of the things we most value and the removal of everything that distracts from it." Right now, I am at a point where I am trying to figure out what this means for our family. We will never be able to own the bare minimum. We will still have toys and books and kitchen gadgets, and probably too much of them. But I am on the road.
I am enjoying the idea of living with less stuff. More time for family and fun. More money for things that are important. Less time cleaning and organizing. Can I really do it? Can we really do it? Only time will tell...
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