It's a GIRL

Here's our little blueberry - which is really more the size of a sweet potato now. Needless to say, we're pretty much in love with her.

Here's she's giving us a thumbs up!

Behold....the God-o-Matic!

I was very inspired by two posts today.


One, from Stuff Christians Like about self-centeredness in ministry. It hurt to read - like my flu shot that hurt for 4 days.


Another, from the Church of No People about marketing and ads and the evils within. It also mentioned that Americans are great crybabies today....not tough, like in the "good ole days":

Americans are a bunch of crybabies. As soon as something goes slightly wrong - we get a tummyache or the sniffles, we want a fix now. In the old days, that didn't happen. Back when average men worked in smog factories and ate lunch out of buckets, know what they did when they mangled their hands in the machinery? They drank some 'tonic,' and then went home and chopped wood for the fireplace...because the boss fired them for breaking the machine.


Between these two - I realize I don't have a God, but a vending machine. I actually knew this a long time ago, but clearily I still see Jesus as a God-o-matic with magic elixers for whatever ails me at the time. I am a great crybaby and a great justifier. I can justify anything I say or do --- which usually ends up proving that I am first, a great crybaby.

When did I forget God actually cares about me? That he doesn't want my "two cents" in exchange for a nudge one way or another - but He wants to know the whole story. He wants to talk about it over coffee. Or a pan of brownies. Or both. There's a relationship there. The only relationship I've ever had with a vending machine was when the coke machine at work raised the prices and I nearly cussed it out and then proceeded to tell my coworkers what an outrage it was.

Wah...wah....wah.....

Fall! Hooray!

I just love the fall. I love the colors, the smells (pumpking ANYTHING) and especially the weather. I love walking at night wrapped in a sweater to keep the chill off. And when you're pregnant - cold is way better than hot.

I am itching to decorate for Halloween - yes that terrible holiday just happens to be one of my favorites. Who would argue dressing up as Wonder Woman an eating too much candy is a bad idea???? Not me!!!

I wonder if there are any cute pregnant lady costumes out there....

For such a time as this.....

There are sometimes just no words to describe events that happen in your life. The type of moments where you whole body goes into shock and you just can't imagine what you just experienced was true. I had one of those experiences a few weeks ago.

I found out one of my college roommates had committed suicide. Now I've known of people doing this, but never been a real part of someones life who killed themselves. I felt so sick and cried harder than I have in a very long time. We were very close in college, faced some tough times and later lost touch for many years and in the past year reconnected thanks to the wonder of Facebook. We would chat and text each other periodically. We never got back to being really close, but I feel really good about the reconciliation that did take place. I'm so thankful for that.

I didn't know, however, that things were really that wrong. We actually chatted the day before she killed herself. I had no idea what she was really going through. I felt horrible that I didn't see a sign, I didn't pick up on anything or even start asking tough questions. Was I not being a good friend? Or did she really keep me (and alot of people) so snowed that nobody really knew.

It's been a few weeks since her suicide, and I've had time to process. Suicide is so strange - you are left with a big giant "WHAT?" with no real sense of closure. Ick.

Oh Barb - I certainly hope that now you are at peace.....

....and I shall call him MINI-ME!

Yes - in case you haven't heard (because you are deprived of Facebook or have been residing under a rock) we are pregnant! 9 weeks - due March 31.

We weren't "trying" but we weren't "not trying". We had pulled the goalie, if you know what I mean. 5 weeks later, it worked! How about that.

I haven't been very sick. I have been EXTREMELY tired. I wonder if pregnancy causes narcolepsy - I could, for a fact, fall asleep anywhere anytime. Tripod has been a great snuggle buddy - she's ALWAYS willing to snuggle up in bed with me anytime of day. Which is great, she may not be the favored child in 9 months.

I was in a meeting at work from 2:30-3:30 (bad time of the day if you're NOT preggo) and completely checked out and had the glazed-over look. Not like Krispy Kreme, more like fill my hand full of shaving cream and tickle my nose for a good laugh sort of glaze. It wasn't until almost the end of the meeting I realized people were making fun of me. It's quite alright, I'm an easy target as of late.

We've gotten a few baby gifts from our parents, the first being a tshirt for a 6-month old that says "My Dad's Tattoos Are Cooler Than Yours". Awesome! My mom sent us a pooh hat and matching slippers, some onesies and bibs - and One that says "Grandma Loves Me". This kid will be rediculously spoiled. TJ brought me home a storybook bible that is so cool - I can't wait until we get to tuck our kids into bed and read it to them. Eeeeek!

T-minus 38 hours...

Oh no! 2 weeks since my last post. For shame; for SHAME! I think I have *gasp* been forgetting about this blog, thanks to THIS blog. Yep, we have created a blog to chart the excitement and heartbreak of finding a call in to ministry. It actually has lots of good stuff on there, why we're in Charlotte, why we want to be in ministry, what we're currently considering, etc.

It's not as funny as this blog, but then - what IS?

So in a day and a half and a few hours we'll embark on a 11+ hour roadtrip to Connecticut and try our hand at being New Englanders. I think we're half crazy - or God has a crazy plan for our life and we're just crazy enough to do it. Either way, it's clear whot he crazies are. US! Crazy or not, we're pretty excited about the trip. I've never been to Connecticut, and really just learned in the past few months where it is on a map. (I know!!!!)

I plan on posting pictures and getting on here to rant periodically - please pray for us as we check this out. It's nuts and crazy and only a couple fools too young enough to be scared of anything would do it.

Whatever happened to "cut and dry"?

You know - things that are balanced and orderly. Black and white. A then B. Genesis then Rev. Peanut Butter and Jelly. Peas and Carrots. Sigfried and Roy. Captain and Tenille?!?!?!

I 'm not sure who (although I do have some theories) planted this idea in my head that life was going to be organized and logical. You put in your dollar, and out pops a diet coke. A simple, vending-machine existence that was consistent, dependable, predictable and boring. One long line of Dilbert cartoons and Seinfeld. Stuff you could count on that didn't rock the boat.

I think when I realized I was going to be a pastor's wife I failed to read the fine print. I'm not sure what type of fine print God would write about this profession, but I would bet a whole bottle of blood pressure medicine that it would be something like this:

Things (specifically life, from now until you croak) are going to be crazy and you are never really going to to know what's going on, where you are going and what you should be doing; what just happened will be insane and what is about to happen will blow your mind. Don't try to figure it out, just roll with it dude. Blessed are the flexible, for they won't be bent out of shape.

If I had been given this little tidbit, I think I would be handling life a little better. At least, I think I would be. I wouldn't have had a meltdown in someones living room like I did today. The reality and fruition of faith is just so hard. Trusting what is ahead, not cling to the comfort that is behind, and not being wavered by what beckons from the left and the right are just tough. I feel like I'm on the ridiculous, yet strangely addicting game show, Wipeout. Imagine me running over giant foam balls hoping I don't slip into the mud before I get catapulted into a ring of fire or onto a conveyor belt filled with pool toys. That sort of feels like me at the moment, sans wet suit and safety goggles.

I'll let you know when I make it over the rubber battering ram and safely into the foam tub. So far, I'm stuck in the middle of the obstacle course wondering where the ladder is.

I need people!

So, it dawned on me today how much I need people in my life. It's no secret I am a people-person, and I know - from even a biblical standpoint - it's good to have people in your life who know you, you know them and you can feel real and honest.

TJ and I spent all weekend with various friends and their kids. It was great - and incredibly rejuvenating. Not like - you-mowed-the-lawn-in-112-degree-heat-then-plunged-into-an-ice-filled-tub refreshment, but the type of refreshment you get when chatting over a meal (my life revolves around food, we established this in a previous post) and dreaming/wishing about life, the future and the scary new adventures God pulls out of His sleeve. I don't know if God wears sleeves, but if he did they would be full of secret candy and magic tricks - just like at the circus. I know God will have some cool disappearing penny tricks for me when I get to Heaven, I just know. Or maybe he'll pull a poodle out of his hat for me....OOH even better.

Today after church we had some relatively new friends over for lunch (WW-friendly, OF COURSE) and it was fun chatting about what's in store for both of our families...it was neat. They also have a sweet 1 year old who kept me entertained as well. Tripod wasn't sure what she was.

As I was cooking dinner tonight I was thinking how neat it was to have spent lots of time with people. People who I love and who love me back. Yay for friendship, yay for love, yay! I feel thankful - so very very thankful.

Figure 8

Well, I picked weight watchers back up a couple weeks ago. Much to my chagrin I have officially gained back all the weight I lost the 1st time I did it. Q!$#R(*$!!Q#%&

Thanks to the "Orlando swimsuit incident" I got mad enough to get back in the saddle and put down the french fries. 8 pounds in two weeks! Not bad! Granted, that's a spit in the ocean compared to where I have to go, but I'm feeling pretty good about it. When my clothes get baggy and my pants shimmy down on their own, I'll be happy. When I go to the doctor and they say "oh hey, you've lost some weight!" I'll be happy. When my blood pressure goes down and I get to stop taking the Atenlol, I'll be happy then too. When I have nothing to wear because my clothes are all too big. I'll be happy - until I have to pay for new clothes, of course.

Somebody tell me why I'm doing this at the biggest crossroad in my life?

Thoughts on the food chain (aka heirarchy)...

I've never been one for hierarchy. I have never really had a problem speaking my mind. Since a kid I would make a decision and go with it - disregarding and "or else!" threat my parents would hand down. When I was 2 or 3 I was the goofy kid who would barely eat (yes, this caught up with me in college when I discovered take out) and I ESPECIALLY would not eat meat. No way, uh uh. This trait, however has managed to stick with me.

On one occasion my Dad, being the certain Alpha male and grand poo-bah of the Beal household told me to eat the meat on my plate or go to bed. I went to bed. They gave me choice (ha! fools) and I made it. According to my brother, the look on Dad's face was classic. Too bad I was strutting up the stairs worrying if I might die of malnutrition in the night. I think my brother brought me something to eat later, because he was one of those rare "nice" brothers who cared about is dorky sister.

Fast forward to today. Where I am employed at an organization full of hierarchy. Where I can't go directly to certain people, but I can go through their gatekeepers (administrative assistants) and guard dogs (assistants to their administrative assistants). 2+ years here and I'm still getting the drift of how to maneuver through bureaucratic land mines......I still have my limbs so I suppose my professional kung fu skills (interpersonal sales skills) have paid off. It just seems so unnecessarily exhausting. And for what? Dare I say....ego?

I just don't get it. Why the lofty office? Special parking space? Assistant to the administratvie assistant? Multiple blackberries? Doesn't that get bothersome? In recent weeks, I have found gladness in my menial role in cubicle land. Sure, I'm held accountable to things beyond my control, but I am not woken in the night by the pious humming of a b-berry. I do think about work - and sometimes dream about it. But lately my perspective has continued to change and improve. I do what I can, knowing God goes before me and after me to make things work and come together. I don't feel valued by people, but I do by Jesus. What a nice place to be.

I am human, He is omniscient. And that is the only hierarchy I need.

Flushed away.

So - funny thing happened to me today...

Right before lunch, I went to the ladies room. As I'm sitting there, I hear a "clink" like something metal hit the back of he toilet, tile floor, etc. My first thought was "Great...I'm sitting here and the toilet is going to fall off the wall." It didn't fall off. Yay.

I finish, stand up and look around to see what the noise was. Apparently one of my earrings had come unhooked and feel IN the toilet. Which at this point, was just used. These were not worth saving, so I flushed it away.

I decided to toss the other one, walking around with one hoop, al a Pirate style just isn't my bag.

Seriously people.....whose idea was spandex?

So recently, my sweet hubby and I went on a vacation to sunny (as in Dante’s Inferno, 7 layers of Hell HOT) Orlando. It was as much relaxing as a networking gig for TJ. I slept in a lot more than he did, and I never really had to dress up in my “goin’ to meetin’” clothes like he did. Pajamas were completely appropriate for me.

We stayed at a resort that was so huge it could probably have housed all of Scotland. According to the map, there were 15 or so pools. They failed to mention that half of these are not constructed yet. Nothing like arm-wrestling a snotty 12- year old for a half broken lounge chair. I went out and purchased a new bathing suit for this vacation – my first one since college, actually. I graduated from college in 2001.

The horror of trying on a swimsuit is universal. No woman, anywhere likes doing it. Even the size 2 stick people that claim to be “overweight” hate it. Nobody wants to go in a dressing room after eating at Sbarro and stand 14 inches from a mirror reflecting every genetic abnormality possible in a few pieces of spandex. A potato sack would actually be more flattering on me. Either way I found one I somewhat liked, bought it and packed it for the trip.

I think there should be a second phase of swimsuit shopping – walking around in it wet, and in public. Just to make SURE you know what you’re getting yourself into. Who knew spandex could get clingier, but after splashing in a chlorine fountain, it does! And then you get to walk out of the pool and amble to your chair all while your spandex is clinging to you and creeping into places it shouldn’t be, and leaving “no room for imagination” as my mom would say. MORTIFYING! REALLY – who’s idea was this?!?

Fast forward to Sunday night when we get home. I pulled our scale out from the 6-inch dust bunnies guarding it under our bed, breathe in (somehow, I got in the habit of sucking in my stomach when I get on a scale and it doesn’t help, but it’s habit) and step on it. I then realized just how angry I can become in a meager 3 seconds. It doesn’t take long and I have a flashback to my first night at Weight Watchers in 2004 when – after stepping on their cattle scale - the kind old lady behind the desk covered her mouth and gasped, looked at me in disgust and said how “well” I carried my weight. That old lady part didn’t happen.

So I had my first (albeit 5th?) weigh in this morning to see if I can’t pull off another weight loss success story. No, don’t even ask what it was.

Hopefully you’ll be seeing less of me soon…

I Finally Read "The Shack".....

While on vacation this week, I finally read “The Shack”. I’m not typically one to follow the herd on things like this, but since so much controversy exploded on this so-called literary heresy, curiosity took over (that and a few people claimed the book changed their lives) so out of mere wonder, I read it.

Unlike my Shack-evangelist friends, this book did not change my life. Sorry friends, don’t be mad – I just was expecting to be made to cry my eyes out and didn’t. Guess I’m either 1) incredibly unsympathetic and cold hearted or 2) the Florida sun dried up my tear ducts. Neither of which are true. Deep down I really hoped it would, I mean – why not, last time I read a book that really changed me was a few years ago when I read “The Picture of Dorian Gray”. I thought of sin and humanity and the nasty matrix within, quite differently. I think reading Dorian Gray started me thinking about homosexuality differently. That was a book that made me think. And still does. So naturally I was hoping the same here.

Yes, the story was great, I was thoroughly entertained. In a nutshell a guy has a huge tragedy happen to him which causes spiritual doubt, anger etc. God leaves him a note to come back to the place (the shack) where this tragedy hit the tipping point and spend the weekend. He goes, and meets God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit. They were all in human form and together a fantastic story of redemption was woven. I was pretty engrossed; I flew through the 245ish pages pretty much within a day and a half. Unfortunately, Bill Young is no Pulitzer-prize winning author, and I sometimes lost the ‘wow’ of the moment to the occasional cheesy line or christianeeze slogan arbitrarily thrown in. Many times and definitely at the end I thought “Dang, if CS Lewis or Tolkien would have written this same storyline – WOW, this could be the next great classic!” But they didn’t. So it’s not.

I can see this as something of great encouragement to someone going through a great loss. Mack, the main character, is someone anyone could identify with. He’s a proud dad, works hard, has a good buddy Willie who would do anything for him, lives in the beautiful Pacific Northwest, has a wonderful wife – yay, all the makings of your standard modern-day mythical utopia. I would recommend this to anyone as a “good ole beach read”, but not much else. I am not sure how this fictional book has end up on the church’s “Top Ten Most Wanted Heresy and Let’s Burn em at the Stake” list, and others aren’t. Maybe it’s because God was portrayed as a black woman. I was envisioning the Oracle from the Matrix the whole time and Mack was Neo, but a much smarter Neo. If you’re one of those people who are appalled that I read The Shack to begin with, please get over yourself and lighten up. I’ve read much worse. You probably should be more concerned with the contents of my iPod then this fictional redemption story.

Maybe I’m a jerk, but the Bible is a pretty great narrative about God, too. If a fictional work takes the place of the Bible – yikes, now we’re in for some heresy. Until then, enjoy it for what it is.

Now I’m reading Uncle Tom’s Cabin. So far it ticks me off.

This ain't about you....

Blogging is so trendy. And here I am giving into to my own personal introspective peer pressure, starting it up again. I need to - sort of like I need to use my Neti Pot during allergy season - which is 11 months out of the year in North Carolina.

This is my 4th - two previous blogs I kept up with for a long time for two reasons:

1) The first blog was about weight loss and how I kept myself accountable to lose 40 pounds. People actually followed it and read it. And I would honestly make choices based on the fact that someone would read how I failed and ate 3 french fries.

2) The second blog was about struggling through work the past 3 years. It was honest and real, and really should be deleted in case anyone VP's from my workplace ever find it. Should they find it, it probably wouldn't be a terrible thing to discuss some of my experiences. I'm just not ready to be hauled off by men in white coats.

I blog (write, rather) to vent, it's my therapy. It helps me categorize and organized the lottery ping pong balls of thought that ricochet in my brain. Some days there are alot of these, some not so much. I get stuck on finding the right word(s) and have a hard time spitting my thoughts out. Contrary to what people may assume - it isn't the Leinenkugel's or insomnia talking, I really do slur my words naturally. Sad, I know.

So here it is.

My husband just graduated from seminary with his Masters of Divinity, and is subsequently looking for "a call". Our lives are probably going to turn inside out and tap dance all the way to Kalamazoo soon. I'm thinking I need to document how my bird brain deals with it - so I can look back and God's faithfulness (and sense of humor) and be encouraged. Hopefully a byproduct of my rants will encourage someone else.

I leave for vacation in 24 hours and I'm so excited - I feel like it's the night before Christmas and I asked for a new barbie jeep that I KNOW Santa is going to bring me because I already found the "secret present stash bag" and it had Barbie Jeep sunglasses in it. Of course, we didn't have Barbie Jeeps when I was a kid. Just big wheels in ugly yellow and red.