This morning as my co-host and I were on the air, one of the ladies from our office came in holding a vase of roses, a Valentine's bag and a big balloon. She set them on my desk and said she was the "delivery lady". I was really excited, until she said they were for Dan.
I felt pretty darn foolish. After all, I had told my husband that he shouldn't get me anything as we are going to a Valentine's banquet (tomorrow), and then to Israel next week! We need to be saving money, and flowers and balloons are just a waste of money. Or are they?
Prices for Valentine's Day are so over inflated. A dozen roses that last week were $9.99 are now $20 (or more). Nothing changed except the day on which they are given.
I try to fight against the mentality that gifts are an indicator of value or love. It's not even really my love language.
As defined by Dr. Gary Chapman, the love languages include: acts of service, quality time, gifts, physical touch, and words of affirmation. My husband is physical touch, I'm acts of service.
I guess the Valentine's letdown came from thinking my hubby hadn't spent the time (not money) to plan a surprise. He could have popped into the office with a can of tuna and I would have been happy that he had gone out of his way.
Don't get me wrong--I'm not going to hold a grudge. I'm not going to pout and make him feel guilty. I guess I'm just going to be more aware in the future, when I tell him not to get me anything, to be honest about what I really mean--that I don't need him to spend money, but do need him to take the time to think of me and let me know I'm loved.
Love languages are tricky things--it's hard to think outside the parameters of what makes you feel loved. But, it's well worth it when you invest the time and effort to communicate in such a way that makes the other person feel that they are worth
Thursday, February 14, 2013
Friday, February 8, 2013
Does my mission trip count?
A few months back, my boss came in and told me that I had been suggested to serve as a representative for Son Broadcasting Network in a race in Israel. Floored and excited, I expressed that I would be honored, but it really was my husband who was the runner in the family. A few phone calls later, and my husband and I were both encouraged to go.
We will be participating in different events under the auspices of the Jerusalem Marathon. My husband will run the half-marathon, and I'll do the 10K (a knee injury interrupted my training schedule and led to the need for less mileage).
We will be running in support of a crisis pregnancy center in Jerusalem called "Just One Life". This organization has been working for the last 20 years to provide help and hope for families that find themselves with very difficult choices to make surrounding an unexpected pregnancy. 13,000+ children later, it is abundantly apparent that their work is needed and serving so many Israeli families.
This trip really is a gift from the Lord. I had the opportunity to visit Israel in 2009 with a media tour, and my prayer had been for an opportunity to go back with my husband. Now that prayer is a reality.
I have been so excited, and felt God moving throughout the process of planning, promoting and raising funds for Just One Life. Even with my knee injury, I've seen the favor that I've been given and I've had a doctor who has been treating me weekly with electrical stimulation simply because he want to see me succeed.
I trust that He is going to put us in contact with those we need to see, talk with those who need a word of hope, and run along side those who question why we would travel half way around the world to stand with an Israeli crisis pregnancy center.
Though much of this trip will be more vacation like, there will be days when we will have the opportunity to share the story of why we are there, hopefully touching hearts along the way. I was fired up about the blessing and "mission" opportunity God had given us, until . . .
Comparison is a killer. We were chugging along with our plans when I heard of a dear friend who was going on a mission trip to Haiti. They would work with the poor and sick, help orphans, etc. Suddenly, our "mission" opportunity paled in comparison--big time! I piled a good dose of doubt and condemnation on my own head.
We are going to stay in a B&B for a few nights, then move onto a fancy hotel. We get to spend several days as husband and wife taking in the sights of Jerusalem. Some mission trip!
I had to stop my train of thought. It was going down the wrong track, and fast. I had been handed a beautiful gift. Instead of spending every day thanking Him and blessing His name, I wallowed into a bog of comparative filth.
Let this serve as a word of caution: comparing your anything with anyone/thing else will quickly steal your joy, and rob you the opportunity to serve in your full capacity. That you Lord for snapping me out of that mindset!
So we charge on. Ready to leave in a few short weeks. Ready to listen and act on the promptings that the Lord stirs in our hearts. Ready to run and give the glory to the Lord. Ready to let my life serve as a mission field--in Albuquerque, Israel or anywhere He places me.
If you'd like to learn more about our trip you can visit here: http://www.teamjustonelife.org/my/birgaandbob
If you'd like to check out my friend's trip to Haiti, visit here: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Becky-Maggie-to-Haiti/449043931828087?ref=ts&fref=ts
We will be participating in different events under the auspices of the Jerusalem Marathon. My husband will run the half-marathon, and I'll do the 10K (a knee injury interrupted my training schedule and led to the need for less mileage).
We will be running in support of a crisis pregnancy center in Jerusalem called "Just One Life". This organization has been working for the last 20 years to provide help and hope for families that find themselves with very difficult choices to make surrounding an unexpected pregnancy. 13,000+ children later, it is abundantly apparent that their work is needed and serving so many Israeli families.
This trip really is a gift from the Lord. I had the opportunity to visit Israel in 2009 with a media tour, and my prayer had been for an opportunity to go back with my husband. Now that prayer is a reality.
I have been so excited, and felt God moving throughout the process of planning, promoting and raising funds for Just One Life. Even with my knee injury, I've seen the favor that I've been given and I've had a doctor who has been treating me weekly with electrical stimulation simply because he want to see me succeed.
I trust that He is going to put us in contact with those we need to see, talk with those who need a word of hope, and run along side those who question why we would travel half way around the world to stand with an Israeli crisis pregnancy center.
Though much of this trip will be more vacation like, there will be days when we will have the opportunity to share the story of why we are there, hopefully touching hearts along the way. I was fired up about the blessing and "mission" opportunity God had given us, until . . .
Comparison is a killer. We were chugging along with our plans when I heard of a dear friend who was going on a mission trip to Haiti. They would work with the poor and sick, help orphans, etc. Suddenly, our "mission" opportunity paled in comparison--big time! I piled a good dose of doubt and condemnation on my own head.
We are going to stay in a B&B for a few nights, then move onto a fancy hotel. We get to spend several days as husband and wife taking in the sights of Jerusalem. Some mission trip!
I had to stop my train of thought. It was going down the wrong track, and fast. I had been handed a beautiful gift. Instead of spending every day thanking Him and blessing His name, I wallowed into a bog of comparative filth.
Let this serve as a word of caution: comparing your anything with anyone/thing else will quickly steal your joy, and rob you the opportunity to serve in your full capacity. That you Lord for snapping me out of that mindset!
So we charge on. Ready to leave in a few short weeks. Ready to listen and act on the promptings that the Lord stirs in our hearts. Ready to run and give the glory to the Lord. Ready to let my life serve as a mission field--in Albuquerque, Israel or anywhere He places me.
If you'd like to learn more about our trip you can visit here: http://www.teamjustonelife.org/my/birgaandbob
If you'd like to check out my friend's trip to Haiti, visit here: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Becky-Maggie-to-Haiti/449043931828087?ref=ts&fref=ts
Tuesday, February 5, 2013
Writing a Will at 35
My husband and I are getting ready to travel to Israel. We've been invited to participate in a race in order to raise funds and awareness for a crisis pregnancy center in Jerusalem. This trip is a blessing through and through. I have no expectations or fears that we will be in any kind of danger.
However, with both of us leaving the country, I've been advised to write a Will. I'm only 35! The chances of harm befalling both me and my husband are very slim, but I do have to think about my kids in the event of the "what if?".
Contemplating who would care for my children for the next 10 years has been agonizing. Thank goodness we have four solid possibilities of immediate family members who could step in in the event of an emergency.
While I may have complained about many aspects of parenting in the past (and will likely struggle through issues in the future) I am so glad that I've been selected to be the mother of my two beautiful girls!
I know the looks, the smarty-pants remarks, the worries, fears and joys that make them who they are. I know how often their fingernails need to be cut, the songs they sing along to and the friends they keep. I am their Mama.
When we go out for our occasional $1 Boba Tea Tuesdays, I am reminded that this is our special time. When my 9 year old wakes me up at night because she is afraid, I want to be there. When my eldest struggles through her reading, I want to hear it.
Parenting is hard. It's even harder if you are trying to do it in order to train future Godly adults. After today's doctor's appointment and strep culture, I will be thankful for my job. When I take pictures of molding potatoes for a 4th grade science project, I will hold my breath but appreciate the chance to be an active part. I choose to celebrate motherhood in the good times and bad.
Thank you God for today and for every day you allow me to be a Mother!
However, with both of us leaving the country, I've been advised to write a Will. I'm only 35! The chances of harm befalling both me and my husband are very slim, but I do have to think about my kids in the event of the "what if?".
Contemplating who would care for my children for the next 10 years has been agonizing. Thank goodness we have four solid possibilities of immediate family members who could step in in the event of an emergency.
While I may have complained about many aspects of parenting in the past (and will likely struggle through issues in the future) I am so glad that I've been selected to be the mother of my two beautiful girls!
I know the looks, the smarty-pants remarks, the worries, fears and joys that make them who they are. I know how often their fingernails need to be cut, the songs they sing along to and the friends they keep. I am their Mama.
When we go out for our occasional $1 Boba Tea Tuesdays, I am reminded that this is our special time. When my 9 year old wakes me up at night because she is afraid, I want to be there. When my eldest struggles through her reading, I want to hear it.
Parenting is hard. It's even harder if you are trying to do it in order to train future Godly adults. After today's doctor's appointment and strep culture, I will be thankful for my job. When I take pictures of molding potatoes for a 4th grade science project, I will hold my breath but appreciate the chance to be an active part. I choose to celebrate motherhood in the good times and bad.
Thank you God for today and for every day you allow me to be a Mother!
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Clutter free=happy me!
Last night I commented to Bob how happy I was since we took out all of the extra "stuff" that was around our home. We've been in the process of trying to remove anything non-essential before the move. The house has never looked better.
But then he said something that made me pause and think a little. His word were, "Yeah, but now this place has no personality. It went from a home to a house. It looks staged and there isn't anything here that is 'us'".
I was surprised by this statement, as he and I share a dislike for clutter. If I'm being totally honest, I've fantasised about what would happen if all the boxes of "stuff" that has been transferred out into the garage were suddenly gone.
But, maybe he's right. Maybe there does need to be a sampling of "items of flair" to remind us who we are, the things we've experienced, and what knits us together.
As we move into our new home, I will be doing a careful evaluation of what I pull out of the boxes. I don't want to fill a bigger place with trinkets just because they will fit. I do find more peace in a simple home. However, I will be mindful not to go overboard. If the Star Wars figurines are important to Bob because they remind him of his childhood, I need to find a place for them. If the drawer full of Dollar Store mementos are important to Sydney, I won't throw them out. And if Hannah finds comfort hanging up drawings, posters and sketches up on her walls, why should I care?
I will likely need to be reminded (or supervised) as I unpack to avoid the strong urge to toss it all. But, the attitude of "happy with less" is an important lesson that I do want to instill into my children. In a few weeks, if you visit our new home, you'll have to let me know if we were able to balance each other out.
But then he said something that made me pause and think a little. His word were, "Yeah, but now this place has no personality. It went from a home to a house. It looks staged and there isn't anything here that is 'us'".
I was surprised by this statement, as he and I share a dislike for clutter. If I'm being totally honest, I've fantasised about what would happen if all the boxes of "stuff" that has been transferred out into the garage were suddenly gone.
But, maybe he's right. Maybe there does need to be a sampling of "items of flair" to remind us who we are, the things we've experienced, and what knits us together.
As we move into our new home, I will be doing a careful evaluation of what I pull out of the boxes. I don't want to fill a bigger place with trinkets just because they will fit. I do find more peace in a simple home. However, I will be mindful not to go overboard. If the Star Wars figurines are important to Bob because they remind him of his childhood, I need to find a place for them. If the drawer full of Dollar Store mementos are important to Sydney, I won't throw them out. And if Hannah finds comfort hanging up drawings, posters and sketches up on her walls, why should I care?
I will likely need to be reminded (or supervised) as I unpack to avoid the strong urge to toss it all. But, the attitude of "happy with less" is an important lesson that I do want to instill into my children. In a few weeks, if you visit our new home, you'll have to let me know if we were able to balance each other out.
Sunday, March 18, 2012
A long time gone
My goodness it has been a long time since I've had an opportunity to sit down and write. What has been taking up my time? Well, moving.
After much prayerful and deep-thoughted (is that a word?) consideration, we decided to take the plunge and become landlords. Not for the fun of it, but for an investment into our future. My job, though I love it, provides no retirement, and I have grown nervous thinking that we might be relying on the State of New Mexico pension plan to make ends meet when my husband retires. The nervous part comes when I see articles and analysis of the state pension plan indicating that there isn't enough money there to cover all those currently working toward retirement.
So, we decided to be pro-active (just in case). After considering buying a property to rent out, we came to the conclusion that our current home would be an ideal rental. This in and of itself is a bitter-sweet statement. I have grown to love our house, that I begrudgingly moved into almost 8 years ago. We have put a lot of blood, sweat and tears into this home. It's the home that my children have grown up in and the home that a majority of the memories from my married life are housed in.
I will miss this home.
The new house (which we are scheduled to close on in less than 2 weeks) is a dream. Almost too good to be true. It has almost 1000 sq. ft. more space than our current house. It has a master closet the size of one of our bedrooms. It has skylights and radiant heat. It has a pool!
When I first saw the new house, I couldn't help wondering why it was set at the low price that it is. We've had inspections done, and while there were a few issues, nothing so big that it explained why this dream home was in our price range. Two thoughts entered my mind: either the Lord was blessing us in a huge way, or there had been some crazy crime there with many people being murdered. Yes, I know those are about as juxtaposed as you can get, but hey, that's how my mind works.
Having found no evidence of a mass murder, I am of the opinion now, that this has been a gift. Things have gone smoothly with the home buying process. We got an outstanding interest rate. We got repairs done before moving in. We get new carpet!
But now begins the process of finding a family to love and respect our "old" house. I've heard the rental horror stories. I know that this is a risk. I know that Dave Ramsey would tell me that we made a bad decision. But, I also know that there is wisdom in a multitude of councilors, and Dave (while knowing his stuff) isn't the final authority on all money decisions.
I'm nervous. I don't want to come back to find this little home that I love beaten and abused. But, it's a risk we are going to have to take. We have been praying that we will find a family to love and care for this house as much as we have.
So amidst packing, paperwork filing, Internet posting and utility managing, I had to take a moment to pay tribute to this little piece of ground that we call home. We will miss our neighbors and miss these floors and walls, but trust that the Lord will continue to guide our steps and bless our new adventures.
After much prayerful and deep-thoughted (is that a word?) consideration, we decided to take the plunge and become landlords. Not for the fun of it, but for an investment into our future. My job, though I love it, provides no retirement, and I have grown nervous thinking that we might be relying on the State of New Mexico pension plan to make ends meet when my husband retires. The nervous part comes when I see articles and analysis of the state pension plan indicating that there isn't enough money there to cover all those currently working toward retirement.
So, we decided to be pro-active (just in case). After considering buying a property to rent out, we came to the conclusion that our current home would be an ideal rental. This in and of itself is a bitter-sweet statement. I have grown to love our house, that I begrudgingly moved into almost 8 years ago. We have put a lot of blood, sweat and tears into this home. It's the home that my children have grown up in and the home that a majority of the memories from my married life are housed in.
I will miss this home.
The new house (which we are scheduled to close on in less than 2 weeks) is a dream. Almost too good to be true. It has almost 1000 sq. ft. more space than our current house. It has a master closet the size of one of our bedrooms. It has skylights and radiant heat. It has a pool!
When I first saw the new house, I couldn't help wondering why it was set at the low price that it is. We've had inspections done, and while there were a few issues, nothing so big that it explained why this dream home was in our price range. Two thoughts entered my mind: either the Lord was blessing us in a huge way, or there had been some crazy crime there with many people being murdered. Yes, I know those are about as juxtaposed as you can get, but hey, that's how my mind works.
Having found no evidence of a mass murder, I am of the opinion now, that this has been a gift. Things have gone smoothly with the home buying process. We got an outstanding interest rate. We got repairs done before moving in. We get new carpet!
But now begins the process of finding a family to love and respect our "old" house. I've heard the rental horror stories. I know that this is a risk. I know that Dave Ramsey would tell me that we made a bad decision. But, I also know that there is wisdom in a multitude of councilors, and Dave (while knowing his stuff) isn't the final authority on all money decisions.
I'm nervous. I don't want to come back to find this little home that I love beaten and abused. But, it's a risk we are going to have to take. We have been praying that we will find a family to love and care for this house as much as we have.
So amidst packing, paperwork filing, Internet posting and utility managing, I had to take a moment to pay tribute to this little piece of ground that we call home. We will miss our neighbors and miss these floors and walls, but trust that the Lord will continue to guide our steps and bless our new adventures.
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Mean Mom's Guilt Trip
As I slid my card through the credit card machine, I said nastily to my daughter, "$74 because you didn't put your glasses away." The cashier looked a bit embarrassed and apologized for the long wait we had just endured.
My "little" girl stormed ahead, mumbling something about that fact that I shouldn't have humiliated her. She was right. I stoped in the isle and asked for forgiveness. My guilt trip wasn't going to solve this problem.
I was mad--maybe even rightfully so. However, my treating her like a jerk just compounded the frustration I was feeling.
Teaching responsibility and/or real-world consequences to my girl(s) is proving to be so much more difficult then I ever imagined. For example, when Joey the hamster died, I ended up buying the replacement, because she didn't have enough money, and needed one for the 4-H project that had been ordered while the hamster was still alive.
Today, she forgot to go to band after school. Today also happened to be the day that we got to order new glasses after the original pair didn't get put away, and have subsequently been lost in the black hole where missing things go to die.
We don't give our kids an "allowance". They have the opportunity to earn a few dollars each week by doing housework, but they never want to save it for anything of value. Instead, it's blown on dollar store nick knacks and the occasional candy or ice cream.
There has never been an item that they wanted enough to save up for. So, how do I teach the value of hard work? How do I instill in them the worthiness of saving for a large goal? And when they lose, damage or distroy someone's (or thier own) time or materials, how are they to make restitution?
I know that there aren't any pat answers to these issues. They will likely require new and creative techniques to address the root problem each time. But one thing is for sure: my guilt heaped upon them will serve no good purpose. If I could remember to parent like God (a very tall order), then the stage would be set for heart change, rather then groveling sorrow that lasts only for a moment.
There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. Romans 8:1
My "little" girl stormed ahead, mumbling something about that fact that I shouldn't have humiliated her. She was right. I stoped in the isle and asked for forgiveness. My guilt trip wasn't going to solve this problem.
I was mad--maybe even rightfully so. However, my treating her like a jerk just compounded the frustration I was feeling.
Teaching responsibility and/or real-world consequences to my girl(s) is proving to be so much more difficult then I ever imagined. For example, when Joey the hamster died, I ended up buying the replacement, because she didn't have enough money, and needed one for the 4-H project that had been ordered while the hamster was still alive.
Today, she forgot to go to band after school. Today also happened to be the day that we got to order new glasses after the original pair didn't get put away, and have subsequently been lost in the black hole where missing things go to die.
We don't give our kids an "allowance". They have the opportunity to earn a few dollars each week by doing housework, but they never want to save it for anything of value. Instead, it's blown on dollar store nick knacks and the occasional candy or ice cream.
There has never been an item that they wanted enough to save up for. So, how do I teach the value of hard work? How do I instill in them the worthiness of saving for a large goal? And when they lose, damage or distroy someone's (or thier own) time or materials, how are they to make restitution?
I know that there aren't any pat answers to these issues. They will likely require new and creative techniques to address the root problem each time. But one thing is for sure: my guilt heaped upon them will serve no good purpose. If I could remember to parent like God (a very tall order), then the stage would be set for heart change, rather then groveling sorrow that lasts only for a moment.
There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. Romans 8:1
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
Super Birga-o's World
This blog needs to have sound effects. Since I don't think this site can accommodate me, you'll need to use your imagination. To begin, please start humming the "Super Mario Brothers" song. Now, imagine me (or yourself) walking through the overly simplistic video game world. You'll need to jump out of the way of (or shoot fireballs at) the mushrooms, turtles and Venus fly traps (??) that come out of the green pipes.
If you have survived the level, and made it into the tube that takes you to the underground world, please change the song in your head now.
This slightly sinister melody has been playing for me this afternoon/evening as I try to make my way back to the surface. The irony of this "world" is that I know how to defeat these lesser enemies, but they often get the better of me as I get distracted by other tasks.
As a kid (and teen) I always loved to go over to any friend's house that had a Nintendo. We didn't have any type of gaming system at our home, and any time I got a chance to play Super Mario, I was as happy as could be. But, I was terrible at it! I always died in the most careless of ways. I'd fall off a cliff or be killed by a turtle (with or without throwing hammers). I never seemed to learn (or remember) when/where to duck, jump or avoid danger.
Now, as a big kid, I find that I make many of the same mistakes walking through real life. I know the problems, emotions, personalities and situations that knock me down. But for whatever reason, I don't do a very good job of avoiding them, or learning from them. Confronted again today by a repeat problem, I didn't duck. Instead, it hit me square in the chest, and (cue the shrinking Mario sound effect) I felt quite a bit smaller then I had moments before.
So, now I need to recharge. I know where to look to get what I need to be restored to full size. And, if I keep going, I can add on some Fire Power!
Though I never won the game, I did on occasion complete a level. There was always that little tingle of excitement when I got to jump on the flag pole and raise the banner of victory. So (cue the last musical jingle of the blog), lookout world, I'm going to press forward. It's only a matter of time before get to the castle!
If you have survived the level, and made it into the tube that takes you to the underground world, please change the song in your head now.
This slightly sinister melody has been playing for me this afternoon/evening as I try to make my way back to the surface. The irony of this "world" is that I know how to defeat these lesser enemies, but they often get the better of me as I get distracted by other tasks.
As a kid (and teen) I always loved to go over to any friend's house that had a Nintendo. We didn't have any type of gaming system at our home, and any time I got a chance to play Super Mario, I was as happy as could be. But, I was terrible at it! I always died in the most careless of ways. I'd fall off a cliff or be killed by a turtle (with or without throwing hammers). I never seemed to learn (or remember) when/where to duck, jump or avoid danger.
Now, as a big kid, I find that I make many of the same mistakes walking through real life. I know the problems, emotions, personalities and situations that knock me down. But for whatever reason, I don't do a very good job of avoiding them, or learning from them. Confronted again today by a repeat problem, I didn't duck. Instead, it hit me square in the chest, and (cue the shrinking Mario sound effect) I felt quite a bit smaller then I had moments before.
So, now I need to recharge. I know where to look to get what I need to be restored to full size. And, if I keep going, I can add on some Fire Power!
Though I never won the game, I did on occasion complete a level. There was always that little tingle of excitement when I got to jump on the flag pole and raise the banner of victory. So (cue the last musical jingle of the blog), lookout world, I'm going to press forward. It's only a matter of time before get to the castle!
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