25 days of Christmas and a look back at 2006

Well, it's December 1st. It's hard to believe...and I know I say that every year this time. But seriously, is my life on some kind of turbo setting that I'm not aware of? I'm turning 30 in just over a month. And trust me, that's a whole 'nother post for another day! But it's just another proof in my life that I'll blink and be 82. Sigh.

On that note, I'm going to attempt a new tradition this year. Just a Becky tradition, but it will involve others. I'm going to try to celebrate the spirit of Christmas in some special kind of way each day leading up to the 25th. I've already done the celebrating for today -- be looking for my next post! I have absolutely no idea what this tradition will entail, but I'm gonna give it a whirl. I just really want to stop and smell the pine needles. Before I'm 82. Double-sigh.

Now, for looking back at 2006...so much good, but some ickies, too. Which is why I think I'm feeling relief at this chapter ending -- it's been a full year and I'm ready for the sense of renewal that comes when you get to turn over a new page on a new chapter. So, without further ado, here was my 2006 (at least as captured on my blog):

*I started blogging! For a trip down memory lane, see my first post.
*On SuperBowl Sunday, I found out my sister was pregnant...with her 4th baby in 5 years. Oh my!
*I became a missionary, both in body and in heart (trust me, there's a distinction!). I fell in love with the beautiful children of Guatemala and with the amazing Christian brothers and sisters we have there.
*I went back to being part-time with my job. Probably one of the best decisions of 2006!
*We decided to sell our house.
*I had a really great summer: I went with my entire family to meet Thomas the Train, celebrated my 7th wedding anniversary, dined at a real tea room with my mama and sisters, witnessed the wedding of two dear friends.
*I found out my best friend is pregnant!
*I witnessed the birth of my nephew. I personally think everyone on the planet should see a birth, regardless of your gross-out factor. Nothing compares to the experience. Nothing.
*We decided to NOT sell our house. Big smile on my face just typing that.
*I hurt my back. Probably the most annoying health problem I've ever had.
*As if I didn't have enough to do already, I started another blog.
*And as if I hadn't had enough unpleasant and entirely random weird health experiences, I added to my growing log of medical misadventures.

Okay, I know that my life in review was not terribly exciting, but well, it's This Girl's Life and it's remarkable to her! And well, that's it, at least until December 31st, when I'll come back in and add anything of note to this post (here's hoping it's more of a "silent night" kind of December than a "jingle bell rock" kind, so I can quietly transition into 2007 without incident!).

To my Kate

"When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives means the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving much advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a gentle and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares."

~Henri Nouwen

To my Kate: even though I know you're exasperated with me for posting about you, I just couldn't help it! Thank you for having that "gentle and tender hand." For not trying to fix it, for just nodding and listening, for making it better by helping me to enjoy life as it is right now. These are gifts you give me every day. May the Lord grant me abundant opportunities to give back to you. I love you!

(p.s. -- that's a wee baby girl nestling in her mama's growing belly!!!)

the holiday that makes me fidget...and well, thankful

I've changed my mind. No...I still feel the same way about Thanksgiving, y'all. For all those who know me and talk to me on a regular basis, you've probably already heard my "lecture" regarding this "holiday." Perhaps it's the small amount of Cherokee blood that runs in my veins that causes me to squirm, but I can't be wholly accepting of a celebration that most traditional Americans mark as a day of family togetherness and giving of thanks for blessings when the descendants of the true first Americans mark it as the beginning of their people's genocide. Ouch.

However, I have changed my mind about using this post to sound off about these (and other) bogus aspects of this day that we call Thanksgiving. Why? Because regardless of the (well-intentioned but recklessly abandoned) origins of this holiday, the truth of the matter is, I think we should all take advantage of any opportunity to count our blessings and raise up prayers of gratitude to the Giver of "every good and perfect gift." So, instead of stepping up boldly upon my soapbox of historical revisionism to purport truth instead of sentimentality (sheesh, I really can't help myself), I'm going to give thanks. I can just see my dear friends who adore this holiday sitting back with relieved smiles...

So what are the good and perfect gifts in my life? Well, I've got a cornucopia chock full of 'em!

• First, the supernatural and unmerited love of a Creator who came to this sin-cursed rock in the form of a blameless and beautiful man who died and then defeated death itself to give me redemption and eternal life. If this was the only gift handed down to this girl, she would have no excuse but to make every day of her life a joyful giving of thanks!!! (This is also why I scratch my head when similarly redeemed people don't share my enthusiasm for this other holiday...)
• My sweet Adam. Speaking of unmerited love...I really don't deserve the kind of loyal, steady, warm, caring, and compassionate love that this man has for me. It humbles me.
• My family. I could never speak highly enough of my parents, and would offer no criticism of them in any arena. They make the Lord's commandment to me to "honor them all the days of my life" so...easy. Maybe that's why I live literally 2.5 minutes from their front door and their welcoming arms...their genuine smiles upon seeing me and their true interest in my day, my job, my life...I'm never far from a reminder that I am one of the reasons that their world goes 'round. Who would want to move away from that??? And of course, my precious sisters, who I consider to be more like alternate versions of myself than separate people, and as such, would defend and protect with extreme survival instincts and love like my own flesh. And I'm not just saying that -- I told my sisters long ago if they ever need a kidney...
• My nieces and nephews. Oops, starting to feel teary-eyed... But I have to say this: they are my surrogate children. God, in His unfathomable wisdom, has refrained from blessing us with children of our own. He may with-hold this blessing forever or for just one more month, we simply don't know. But God is merciful, and to anyone who's ever dealt with infertility, I promise you this: where God shuts a door, He truly does open a window, and these babies are the glass panes through which God shines His merciful love into my lonely heart and empty arms. Want to see for yourself? Check out my face here. I can never express enough gratitude to my sister Sarah for so openly sharing her precious little brood with a sister simply drowning in her own maternal drives and desires.

Okay, so I'm starting to get uber-emotional and this post is getting ridiculously long, so I'll wrap it up, but I must give quick mentions to my other blessings...my friends who are scattered far and wide but whose love I feel surrounding me every day. My home, which I thought I would lose, but is now even more of a haven to me because I've been shown what a real gift it is. My church, the kids in our youth group, my Monday night Bible study group, my job (well, most days I'm thankful for it!). Dear Lord, I give you thanks for all these amazing things. Amen.

(honorable mentions go out to coffee, air, lemon-poppyseed muffins, morning doves, England, Josh Groban's voice...okay, enough is enough. Calling it a night.)

Oh, Mt. Squalor

If you need me, you know where to find me. If I don't return in the next 48 hours, send someone in after me.

Our laundry pile might swallow me whole. Does anyone else besides me have a hard time keeping up with the dirty clothes? And does any other husband besides mine call it "Mt. Squalor" when it's all piled together in one room, ready for color assignment?

The one good thing about my laundry logjam is I cleaned out and organized my laundry room on Saturday. At least when I'm tackling our current Mt. Squalor, I won't be surrounded by phone books from 2004, lamps without bulbs, socks without mates, spiderwebs, and lint balls anymore!

time for another plethora of randomness post

• Apparently, I'm popular in Florida. I started using a StatCounter for all the hits to my blog, and Florida, you're leading the way. Thank you for your patronage.

• This week is Thanksgiving. I'm going to be writing a post about this holiday. Fair warning: it won't be what you expect. Hint: I'm not a big fan of Thanksgiving, even though this is the equivalent of heresy in some circles.
• I love my husband. I don't say this often enough on my blog! But I do have to brag on him for just a second...on Saturday morning when I finally ventured downstairs to start some laundry, I found a huge bouquet of a dozen white roses on the kitchen table. I don't remember the last time something made me gasp, but that's exactly what I did. Such a surprise...such a sweet man. Our marriage has had its share of ups and downs this year, but we are in a very good place right now and I'm so blessed. Thank you, my love.
• I've re-injured myself. I am extremely bummed about this. Last night I went to pick up my almost 15-pound baby nephew in his almost 2-ton infant carrier (okay, I'm exaggerating obviously, but goodness, those things are HEFTY!), and something...happened in my back, right where I'd herniated a disk 2 months ago. It wasn't a pop or a snap or anything dramatic, just a searing pain right through that disk that shot jolts of follow-up pain up and down my leg. I paused, hoping that I'd just moved wrong and it would go away, but alas, as soon as I moved, I realized the pain was baaaaaa-aaaaaaack. I gave in and took a Vicodin last night (this is a big deal because weaning off of Vicodin was pretty awful last time around) and thankfully, I do feel a little more mobile and less crippled this morning. Here's hoping I've just aggravated a tender, still-healing spot and not herniated the disk again.
• Our Hispanic youth group is growing. On Friday, we had 17 kids show up to the Esperanza center. Adam and I are both excited and very nervous/overwhelmed by this; God is blessing this ministry in an abundant way, but we are beginning to realize that our resources (helpers, space, budget, etc.) really need to grow along with our attendance. We would appreciate your prayers!
• The Colts lost last night. We're no longer undefeated. This brings a surprising amount of sadness to my heart. This is the curse of being any kind of sports fan.

a sampling of posts from my favorite blogs

I want to give my blogging sistahs some guest traffic and also perhaps introduce some of my own readers to some great women out there in the blogdom who have such a heart for Jesus and who are also just fabulous, humorous writers!

This one from Sarah's blog, "In the Midst of It"

This one from Erin's blog, "Embracing My Cup"

This one from Amy's blog, "Amy's Humble Musings"

and this one from DeeDee's blog, "It Coulda Been Worse"

a close encounter of the racist kind

I've always loved this Norman Rockwell painting. It evokes so much in the heart of the beholder: the ugliness of hate, the purity of childhood innocence, and the shock that you experience when you see these things juxtapositioned.

I've been thinking about racism today. Not that I wanted to! Unfortunately, the thought was rather rudely thrust on me this morning when I pulled up behind a van in a turn lane. The light was extra long, so I began to take note of the bumper stickers on the van...got a little nervous when I saw the Confederate flag (never a good sign) but then I read this and about had the wind knocked out of me:

"Earth's Most Endangered Species? The White Man. Preserve Our Race."

Um, what's that you say??? I had to read it 3 or 4 times before the message even sunk in, I was so horrified to be reading what I was reading! Then I started to consider the message in that lovely little line. And it dawned on me...hey, wait a minute! That is talking about intermarriage among ethnicities and the procreation of children of mixed heritages! I was offended before that moment, but when I realized that I, a woman proudly married to a man of another race (he's a hottie Hispanic, I'll have you know), was the target of that bumper sticker, I felt road rage of a whole new variety.

So when the light turned green, I sped up a bit so I could be parallel with the driver -- I just had to get a look at this foul, hateful person. And of course, it was absolutely classic, almost cliche. The driver? An ancient old guy, wearing a hunting cap (with ear flaps no less), and a face that looked like he'd sucked on a lemon and it froze that way. I just stared at him, shooting daggers with my eyes. The sad part? He was probably thinking, what's that good, God-fearin' white girl doin' lookin' at me? I wanted to shout, Hey dude! My last name is Mancilla, and it's pronounced like tortilla!!!