My Biblical Hero

In the past few months, I have discovered that I have a favorite Biblical character. I've always had people that I liked to read about but if someone were to come up to me and say, "Hey, who's your favorite?", I probably would have had to think about it.

Most people, if you ask them, will say David or one of the Apostles. Some of them will pull the "well, duh" approach and say Jesus, which not to say that Jesus isn't awesome, but I think we all can understand that when that question is asked, you're looking aside from the obvious answer of Jesus. Or you'll get Moses or Noah, maybe if you're on the feminist side (like me) you'll get big names like Esther or Mary.

I have fallen in love with a guy that is seldom mentioned, maybe a few times in the New Testament, but has a depth that few can understand. He's popped up in my life on four occasions in the past six months, whenever I'm feeling discouraged.

John Mark.

For those of you not familiar with John Mark, let me give you the abbreviated version. John Mark was the Biblical days version of an AIM worker. He went along with Paul on a missions trip. But he was young and he got homesick and left. Paul felt that he was a failure and wanted nothing to do with him. John Mark did fail. He didn't complete his commitment to help serve the mission to which he was appointed. Several years later, Paul ended up asking specifically for John Mark, saying that he was good for his ministry. There was a second chance; a chance to redeem himself for what he had given up on before.

In case you didn't catch on, I think I love John Mark because there has been pretty much nobody for me to turn to when the waves of pain and twinges of failure hit me. It doesn't happen as often anymore, but every once in a while, I'll start hating myself. Hating that I had to leave. Hating that I'm hearing good things that are going on in Paraguay. And not so good things. And I'm not there to have any part in it. I recently found out that there was a minor crisis with the missionaries about a week after I left. I haven't decided if God knew that I wouldn't have been able to help or handle any of it, or if I royally screwed  up and left when I was needed most. There's probably truth to both sides of this. I have friends who have been on the AIM field, but they all completed their terms and came home. I didn't. I have nobody to relate to.

But then, when all hope seems lost, John Mark gets brought up. When I was in Paraguay, my mom told me the story. Right after I found out I was coming home, Debora brought him up to me. He was preached about during my last Sunday there. And the pastor mentioned him on Sunday night. There have probably been other times somewhere in there that I forgot. I have worn out those parts of my Bible, because finally, I have someone who understands. I can't go over and chat him up, but it's helpful to know that someone went through this and survived. Not only did he survive, but he finished later.

God understands all. When I get to heaven, I can't wait to see God, because, well, he's God. But honestly, I'd like to think that when I get there I'll get to kick it with John Mark for a while, too. I think we'd have some awesome stories to swap.

Back to School and a Special Effort

Today, after unintentionally putting it off since the first week that school was in session, I finally made it back to the high school to go see Senora Tuel. I had brought her back a souvenier from Paraguay and had been meaning to go back and visit her ever since I went to the school when I got back and all of my teachers that I wanted to see (including her husband) were there except for her. So we talked about Paraguay and my other Spanish teacher ended up coming in and acting all nice, prompting me to really want to go, "Dude, you hated me. Don't lie." But I bit my tongue. I've done that a lot over the past few days. Don't even get me started. But anyway, it was awesome to get to see my favorite teacher of all time, who pretty much believes I can do anything. She asked me if my Spanish got better and how everything went, because she knew how scared I was about not being able to talk to people. When I told her I made friends who didn't speak any English, she replied with, "See, I always knew you could do it." It's pretty cool to have someone who believes in you like that.

She then suggested that because today was the day of the book club meeting (which I was in while I was in high school), I should drop in. So, I did. There were brownies and we talked about grammar. It was heavenly.

Because I am an unemployed loser, who places of potential work won't even call back, I am attempting to find projects to occupy my time. Right now, I'm attempting to get approval from the youth leaders and pastor to organize a youth-led service. Our youth group has this thing (which I'm pretty sure is prevelent in all youth groups) where we want to get together, but usually it's only to do pizza or Magic Mountain or something. We want youth services, but we expect other people to do everything and organize them for us. So, what I'm trying to put together is a service that is led completely by members of the youth group. Music, preaching, offering and announcements, everything. I'm really hoping I can get it all together and approved. I think it would be amazing and would bring our youth group together.

In the meantime, I'm making plans for a trip to St.Louis for Preview Weekend on November 12-14. I'm also planning on staying an extra day and going to O'Fallon, MO to go to the church I'm planning on attending while I'm at Gateway. I'm really excited about the whole thing.

I Am The Best Aunt (And Other Stuff, Too)

I have poor restraint.

For those of you who don't know, and I'm just too lazy to go back and see if I've mentioned it on here before, my aunt and uncle are adopting a little girl from India, named Kenlie. My aunt likes froo-froo things and pink and ruffles and sparklies and all of that girlie stuff, so my mom and I went to the store to get said sparkly, ruffly, pink, froo-froo baby things for Kenlie. While I was looking for the perfect gift for my new cousin, I came across something. I was trying to be good. I had been doing so well. I promised I wouldn't spend money on baby things for my niece/nephew until I knew if it was a niece or a nephew. Or at least for a month. But alas, I could not restrain anymore. And now, my NinjaNiece/Nephew has the following because of his/her favorite aunt's lack of restraint:

Which I happen to think is amazing.It ended up leading into a strongly worded discussion between Cerri and I as to who would be the better aunt. I pwned. For those of you not versed in contemporary language, I won. Multiple times.

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This weekend was extremely full. Friday night was Pinchlet's going away party, where my OCD was unleashed upon the snack table.

This table was organized, reorganized, and organized again many, many times until it met my high standards of almost-symmetry. And then the picture was thrown off by the stupid chair on one side. Boo!

And then the mandatory party pictures were taken of everyone and their brother with the recipient of the party and the cake. Including myself. And I am not a creeper.

Ok, maybe a little.

And then group hugs were exchanged and we let her go.  But not without a fight, as Dorenda and I chased after her car.

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But alas, we had to move on after Pinchlet left. So we did the annual hayride and hog roast thing. 

I don't really get why we even call it a hog roast anymore. The origins of this annual tradition go way, way back. The first place I remember having it (although I have heard that this isn't actually the first place) at The Spanish Leprechaun's parents' house. And then we migrated to another family's house. And now we have had it at the church for the past two years. But we don't roast hogs anymore. Which takes a great deal of the fun out of it, as well as the relevance of the name. This fails, or rather, phails. (Don't ask.)

We still do the hayride thing though.

The scary person in the front is Cerri. She is not posessed. Although sometimes I have my doubts.

And we have since added a bouncy thing!

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After we gorged ourselves on non-hog, we did the only logical thing.

We went and ate Mexican.

There was also a belated birthday sombrero involved.

Stick This In Your Nobel Peace Prize....

And smoke it, Mr.President.

"I'm Going to Have Twins and Name Them Petri and Pinchlet"- (AKA- Pinchlet and Petri: A Memoir in Gibberish)

This is one of my best friends. You may see her referred to on here as Rachel, Rachol, or Pinchlet, among other names. She looks slightly high in this picture, but it's one of the few we have where someone isn't sticking their tongue out, giving bunny ears, picking their nose intentionally, etc. You get the picture. We have the kind of friendship that people wish they understood, but at the same time are afraid to get a glimpse into the inner workings of our brains. Because we are positively, ridiculously insane.

See?

Last year in August, she pulled a stunt where she went off to college and didn't come back until November. I scorned her for this. And then she came back. And now she's moving off to Connecticut. Because she's sucky like that.

The crappy thing about being a grown-up is that you no longer have that assurance that those people are going to be around to play in the sandbox with. You have to part ways with people that you've spent a good part of your life with and move on and get your own life in your own place and see these people at Christmas and Easter and maybe the occasional wedding and funeral. It's no fun, but it's life.

The following is not for you to understand. But rather you can laugh and pretend that you get it. And she can laugh because she gets it.

Dear Pinchletene Suzanna,

I don't think it's possible for me to say sappy stuff to you without laughing hysterically, because most of what we say is sappily ironic and/or incoherent. I do not want you to leave me here with Abe on my own, but that is what you must do. Go forth and conquer the Connecticutionians. Because that's what I feel like calling them. And be warned that that is my new vacation spot and I will come and mooch off of you. But I'm sure you already knew that. Please know that I will never forget the times that we spent kissing the goat and the giant balloon with the reliving of the birth experience. Walter is watching you and the moose completes me.

Kisses and Winks,

Petrithin

Chillens, College, and Computers (And other frightening things)

Chillens: A ghetto term that is the equivalent of the word children 


You must read  this. Because it brings me great joy. Lots and lots of it. Like, you can't imagine. Unless you were at my church on Sunday night and saw me and Cerri scream. Then you may have a little, tiny bit of an idea.

College


I am so ready to go to college. I don't know why, but I've just been extremely psyched about heading off to Gateway this week. I'm ready to go and three months seems like forever right now. I can't wait to go and get started. My application went out (after many tries and delays) today, my recommendations are in the mail, and my pastoral reference went out about a week after I got back from Paraguay. All there is to do now is to wait  for an acceptance letter.

Computers

My computer makes me want to cry and/or scream right now. About a week ago, the thing turned itself off and didn't come back on for three days. Once it turned on, it froze up. Not it freezes up after about a half an hour of being on. I don't know what the deal is. I've run virus scans and the works, and what the guess is is that the fan is shot. I'm not pleased about this. Not at all.

To make this worse, the other day I opened the laptop, which had been off all day, to see that the "p" key was missing. Just randomly. The computer was shut and off all day. Weirdness.

Cars; Driving, Nearly Wrecking, and Being Banned by Friends from Driving of.

This is me on the day I got my permit. See how happy and carefree I look? No worries. Oblivious to the fact that I am in sole control of a large van. Tralalala....look at me. I'm driving a car.

This was before "the incident".

I have driven since then, several times. I drove on country roads.I drove to Coldstone. I drove to WalMart. I drove here and there and everywhere. And so finally, my friends decide that I can make "the step".

"Becky, we're going to let you drive us to Mansfield."

EEEEEEEEEE! (Squeal of joy)

I drove well. I showed that road who was boss. I made turns and did not land in a ditch. I didn't run into other cars. Sure a few people passed me along the way and sure I was driving ten miles under the speed limit while people yelled kind words like "idiot", and waved politely while showing me the international finger of friendship. Good folks all around. But I made it unscathed. I even pulled successfully into a WingStreet so we could have a delicious lunch of Pizza Hut buffet. And I pulled out of the parking lot without dying. Huzzah!

Enter the aneurysm.

Tralala, look at me. I'm driving in Mansfield. Hey, that's a red light. Hey, I didn't put on the brakes hard enough. Well, what do you know, we're in the middle of an intersection. Hey- WHY THE HECK IS THAT CAR COMING TOWARDS ME?!

Needless to say, I was slightly shaken up after this. And forced my friend to drive the rest of the way. And now I am no longer able to drive.

My Birthday and Other Things

I'm sorry that my first post back was such a downer. I haven't had a lot to say lately, but although I wasn't incredibly close to Gabby, I felt like I should say something. It seems unreal to me. She's just always been there at camp. She was always in the same dorm as me at camp and always worked at concessions. It just seems so unfair to me that such a young life was lost. The silver lining to all of this, if you can really call it that, is that she saved eight lives when hers was lost through being an organ donor. That's just like her. Always giving, even at the end of her life. She was a sweet girl and will be greatly missed.

Not a lot has been going on lately; nothing that I've wanted to write anyway. I've filled out so many job applications, it's not even funny. Not a single call back in regards to an interview, since the one at the temp agency about a month ago. I got a call from a local bank asking me to submit more information (i.e. my stupid resume that failed to attach) and they told me that they would call me back, but I haven't heard a thing. I've even done the one thing I said I would never do, and put in an application at fast food places. Taco Bell and Burger King were the only two that I could bring myself to put in applications for. I've done a form of food service before, and didn't like it much. I've also put in applications at Tim Horton's, JC Penney, Wal-Mart (and you'll be happy to know that I passed their employee-customer relations test when I submitted the application), Bob Evan's, and Staples. If I had my pick, I'd be at Staples. But alas, no call whatsoever. FAIL.

Today (yesterday in all technicality) was my birthday. I turned nineteen (sweet Lord, I'm getting old) and feel no different than I did at eighteen. What a disappointment. I celebrated this momentous-ish occasion by going to Easton Town Center in Columbus and spending my parents' money. On sheet music. The Broadway kind.

And I shall play and ears shall bleed because I did not practice all summer. Be glad you are not in this house while the notes to "Defying Gravity" are fumbled through. And if you happen to stumble upon the house while I'm fumbling through, just pray I don't start singing. There's a reason I stick to signing. No ears bleed in the process.

I also celebrated by faux-falling.

And sipping Cherry Coke while my brother picked casually scratched his nose.

Now, you may prepare to say "Awwwww...."

Remembering Gabby

I don't even know where to start in writing this. Nothing I write will do justice to the life lived or bring a dear friend to so many people back.

This week, countless people said goodbye to a dear friend. Gabby touched so many lives. She was dedicated, talented, and an absolutely sweet girl. She had the biggest smile of anyone I've ever met, and was rarely seen without it. Everyone knew her and loved her. She was a beautiful girl with a lovely voice and a personality that drew everyone to her. She was at camp every year, working concessions with her sister and her mom, and reached out to everyone she met. She brought so much laughter and fun to working out at the campgrounds for five weeks at a time. As I looked at the messages left on her page, I can't help but notice the endless lives that she touched during her short nineteen years on this earth. She was loved by all of us and will be sorely missed.

What happened this week was a tragedy. Sometimes we don't  understand what God does and why he does it. That's not a very comforting statement, but it's the truth. He has a bigger purpose and a plan than any of us could ever dream of comprehending. God loves Gabby even more than we do, and this is why we have to trust in His perfect will in this terrible time. She's home now and she's at peace, and we will see her very soon.

Goodbye, Gabby. I'll meet you on the other side.