Do Good Day, 2015

Suuuuuuper quick recap:
-My Daddy always told me to "Do Good."  It was his "thing."  Now it's mine.
-He died in 2012.
-September 24 is his birthday, so we've made that "Do Good Day" in his memory.
-Previous Blog Posts about Do Good Day are here, here, and here.

Y'all.

There is so much pain.

Just. so. much.

This year, Do Good Day falls right in the middle of the
pain.  In the middle of Childhood Cancer Awareness Month.  Days before a Walk to End Alzheimer's that I will be doing in honor of my sweet Momma.  And now, days after one of my very favorite people has been diagnosed with esophageal cancer.

I don't even know where to begin.

My hope for this September 24 is that you will Do Good.  I don't care how you do it, I just want you to do it.

But if you are looking for how and where to give money- I'd love for you to donate to any of the above causes.  St. Baldrick's.  Alzheimer's.  Or even to my buddy's medical bills.  (More details about this soon.)

As always, I am CONSTANTLY collecting gift cards.  I have a file of "Do Good" cards that are donated throughout the year as needs arise.  I'd love to add any that you'd like to share.

For now, I just wanted to put it on your radar.  It's coming.  I can't wait to see what we do, together.

For the Love...

Once upon a time, I had a fake best friend.  Well, let's be honest.  I've had several of them.  Jay-Z thinks I'm awesome, Jimmy Fallon thinks I'm hysterical, and well, Jen Hatmaker thinks I'm her real life bestie.

None of those, sadly, are true statements.

However, one of those mentioned has caressed my face.

And her name is Jen Hatmaker.

If you have spent any time with on this blog, on my social media pages, or in person... you know I love Jen.  She's funny, she's smart, and she speaks Truth in a way that so many people "get"... she's just fantastic.

The short version of my love of this "celebrity" (she hates that term, btw) is this: in 2008, 4 of my not-yet-but-soon-to-be-best-friends and I decided to get together to do a Bible Study.  We knew-ish each other, but thought because of our similar places in life, maybe we'd have a connection.  (Side note: I highly recommend this method of finding your people.  Pick people that you might like, pick something to do together, and give it a season.  It might work.  It might not.  I've been in groups that will never let go of each other and groups that enjoyed the season and moved on.)  Two of those in our group went to our local Christian Book Store, sat on the floor, and looked through studies.  We stumbled upon one written by Jen, bought it because it looked cute, and started living life together with Jen as our unspoken 6th Group Member.

It wasn't long until I friended her on Facebook.  Because back in 2008, I thought it might make this sweet pastor's wife feel good to hear from little ol' me that her words had made a difference.

Ahem.  Yep.  Cause she needed a fan.

Shortly after she started writing big things... like Interrupted... which did just that and interrupted our lives.  Several of you will say that "Seven" was your favorite Jen book... mine was and will likely always be "Interrupted" because it changed us for the better.  Permanently.

I began to share her books with friends- putting them in the hands of ones I loved hoping they would love Jen back.

Then she had this moment where she made us all say "amen"... and the World At Large fell in love with my Fake Bestie.

Her life went along at lightening speeds... HGTV found her and did a show about her amazing house. People started mentioning her to me asking if I'd ever heard of her.  I started to feel a little territorial of her for a while (she was my fake bestie first!) then realized how beyond childish that was and embraced that people loved my Love... and it's so good.

Yesterday, her newest book hit the shelves.  I was fortunate enough to be able to read an advanced copy with 499 strangers who have banded together on Facebook.  I have learned more about them than I know of some of you- and I'm excited (and terrified) to meet them all in Austin in a few weeks.   I watched "Launch Day" blow up my Newsfeed yesterday and sat back feeling a bit like I hadn't turned in my homework... I had failed to alert you all about how her book was now AVAILABLE and how YOU NEEDED TO RUN OUT AND IMMEDIATELY BUY IT.

So, in true Becky Fashion... here we are "A Day Late and A Dollar Short".  Y'all want this book?  Fine.  Let's do this.

In the spirit of Love and Doing Good, I'm sponsoring a bloggy contest.  I'd love for you to enter.

Here's how to get "entered":
* Like this post on Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram= one entry (per each site!)
* Share this post= two entries
* Tell me how you are Doing Good (privately or publicly)= 5 entries

And here is what you will win...
* A copy of Jen's Book, For The Love, which is both hysterical and uplifting
* The world's best pen
* Your very own "Do Good" coffee mug
* Your choice of a "Do Good" T-shirt or Tote Bag
* A gift card to my super favorite place in Winston-Salem, Camino Bakery (Not local? No problem. I'll send you a Starbucks card and gift the Camino one to someone local.)

Not enough reason for you to enter?  How about some more cute pictures of me with Jen?

The Six of Us.  Laurie had just moved to Phoenix, so she was there as Flat Laurie.

Did you want to see a better picture of when I first met her?  Sorry, this will have to do.  "Someone" kinda forgot to take a picture while I was busy making sure she had her own with Jen.  If you'd like to see *that* picture, you might want to ask my friend Michelle... oh, whoops... I see what I did there.

Besties...

My life has been enriched by her words.  You will love this book.  The "Thank You Notes" alone are worth it.  It's perfectly timed for the beginning of school- it gives us a pass from all of the things that the world (and Pinterest) tells us we "should" be doing as Mommas.  I can't wait to hear what you think about the book... and I'm happy to autograph your copy if Jen isn't available to.


Need more?  Here's a link to what I wrote about my first meeting with Jen.  Sigh.

Now get to sharing/posting/entering.  FOR THE LOVE, people!

The Company I Keep

In recent days, I have been filled with memories of wisdom I gleaned from my Mom.  She taught me tons about the ways of the word including the necessity of quality paper towels, spending money on good framing, and how to make lasagna.  She wiped up behind me before I had even spilled and was able to make me "straighten up" with just an exhale of breath.

One of her very favorite sayings during my formative years was "You're known by the company you keep." The fact I have been friends with the Trashy Cable Twins for 35+ years may cause some to wonder whether or not I've fully embraced those words... but let me go on record by saying that I, indeed, have.

Just this week, my Company showed up at the Sticht Center with brand new pajamas for Mom never having spent any time with her in her healthy days.

My Company continues to reach out with words of encouragement- "This book was helpful to me..."; "Remember to take care of yourself..."; "How can I help...."

My Company brought meals to us in the hospital.  My Company also understood when we just weren't up for visitors.

My Company understands when I have to change plans to deal with out of town guests.  Or trips to Mom's facility.  Or because I just can't.

My Company has us drop Julianna at their house for an unknown amount of time- only to have her spend the night.  They send me pictures and videos of the fun she has so that I can be assured my little ones are well loved and happy while I am away from them.

My Company plans dates with my girls in the days to come so that they will feel continuity while I feel chaos.

My Company knows when to pour the wine and when to stop.

My Company loves me well.

I am sad/ mad/ discouraged/ angry/ disappointed that my girls won't get to hear some of Mimi's lessons straight from her... but I know that they will feel the effects of her wisdom through the love of my Company.  And while we were able to giggle as Mom rolled her eyes at some of our conversations in the hospital, I'm grateful that her words will live in my heart even when she can't speak them to me anymore.  I've lived almost 40 years trying to please my Mom... and I know that the quality of my Company pleases her even now.

normal.

For the last 3 years, I have been in a state of holding my breath.

I feared we would never hit "normal" again.  Nothing could be normal without Daddy ... after learning of my Mom's dementia... after losing friends to death... after feeling like we lived in a continual state of loss.

And yet here we are.  Normal.

This is what my new normal looks like:

I have an 8 year old who is funny, too smart for me, and helps me navigate our new world.  She keeps me thinking through my answers as her questions challenge me daily.  She is light and laughter and consistency in my days that are chaos.

I am the proud legal guardian of a beautiful, stubborn, and sweet 2 year old.  She has brought us hope in times that we couldn't conjure it up without her.  She loves loudly and deeply and fiercely... and we are thankful for the charge to help guide all of that energy in a safe and loving environment.

I have a mother who is constantly losing who she is.  Her face and sometimes mannerisms remind me of days gone by, but her current dementia filled days make me ache for our old "normal".  I go through times where I can't remember the good... and I am grateful for those who come along side me and fill my heart and mind with memories of her grace, dignity, and wisdom.

I have a precious husband who is often my barometer of pause.  He tells me when I should slow down, encourages me to write more, and will often bring out the next bottle of wine when days are as lovely as they were yesterday and our deck is filled with an impromptu gathering.

I have a faith that is changing and growing... I feel a bit like it's made of Silly Putty- words of days gone by are still imprinted on it, yet in moments I've allowed it to grow harder than is malleable.  I long for the soft and stretchy ease, yet I'm certain that I'm to learn something new in this season.

I have a home that is messy and fluid.  This past week was our Spring Break and we saw friend after friend come through our doors, leaving their mark on our hearts as we enjoyed what spice they add to our home.  Never have I enjoyed a Spring Break more... although I need to detox from the food and drinks and sleep for about 34986 more hours.

And this is our new normal.  Days filled with love and loss and joy and pain and heartache and celebration.  Normal.

I have cringed a bit lately as a few well-meaning friends have suggested that the addition of our sweet  girl is somehow supposed to fill the gap of losing our most recent baby.  While we love that their stories overlap and intersect (we think that Baby J was born right about the time our baby died), one is not a replacement for the other.  One brings hope and mothering into a bleak heart of loss... yet a life cannot be traded one for another.  Yet that is where we are- celebrating the life of one as we remember the loss of the other.  Normal.

I guess this is what being fully human is about.  Holding on to normal quite loosely, realizing that it changes moment by moment.  Trying not to get stuck in the longing for easier days, trying not to wish away the current moment while still anticipating the next.  Reaching out for spicy friends when our own bowl has become bland.  Returning the favor for others by pouring the wine when we are able. Reading and praying and writing and hugging and laughing and crying.  Encouraging others- no matter what their normal looks like- that we will gather with them through it all.

Peace and grace.
And hope for your Normal to be filled with Light, as we exhale together.

Doing Good, 2014

I have been mulling over this post for a few weeks.

I have started it 3 separate times tonight.

For some reason, the words just aren't easy.

I'm struggling to make words on my computer screen match all of the emotion in my heart.  Please bear with me as I take you on a tour through the jumbled-ness that is my mind these days.

Next week is September 24.

That would be my Daddy's birthday.  It also would be the first birthday of a baby I didn't get to meet.

Last year I anticipated that date by planning activities to occupy my heart and mind on a day that I knew had the potential to be painful.  And it was beautiful.  Here's a bit about what good we did on 9-24-13.

September 24 has become Do Good day- not only for just our family, but for so many who have spread the love in their own circles.  This year was no exception.  We opened our home to locals to join us as we celebrate the Good.  Not only was I floored during the day (Daddy's best friend from home SHOCKED me when she arrived unannounced!), I was amazed throughout that week as I heard stories of people Doing Good.
  * We collected over $500 in gift cards to distribute as needs arise.  We have already given several to families in need of some Good, and have been blown away at the stories of how our friends' generosity has met their need in immediate ways.
  * A friend in Asheville put together a drum kit with the help of local musicians to give to a child who was taking lessons and did not yet have a kit.  While his mother may not see hear the Good always in such a LOUD gift, she was thrilled- as was her son- with such a significant gesture.
  * People sent me story after story that day of paying for others' meals, coffees, groceries in anonymity and how amazing that felt.

Goodness won on September 24.  

You have joined me in taking my Daddy's phrase - Do Good - and truly making it a movement.  So many of you text me when you see verses or signs or gestures of Doing Good.  You walk alongside me in my grief by constantly pointing me toward the positive- and for that I am beyond grateful.

Throughout the last year, our Do Good "funds" have provided Christmas gifts to families in need, furniture and appliances to those just heading out on their own, gift cards to just the right people at just the right time.

We would be honored if you are interested in contributing to our Do Good Fund.

At the same time, so much good came last year from some of you who gave right where you were.  You blessed children with drums.  You surprised people with lunch.  You brought happiness and joy and good wherever you went.  And those stories were awesome.

The stories I hear from y'all about the good you do and the good you see have sustained me.  Beyond that, those stories have blessed the recipients of the goodness.  And I feel certain that we are all ready to have some good again filter through our newsfeed and our lives.

Would you join me on Wednesday?  It doesn't matter how you do it- I'd just love to know that you'll partner with us on September 24 to Do Good.  If you don't mind, send me your "goodness" stories that day.  I'll do better at updating you on all the stories and we can see what this little movement of ours can do.

I can't wait to see the good.

Stan Waldrup
September 24, 1942- March 25, 2012
Loving Daddy, Silly Dadaw, and the one who taught so many of us how to Do Good

 

Making a Path

Today is Elizabeth's second day of school.  She got on the bus yesterday morning full of excitement and possibility- beyond proud of her Hogwarts backpack and ready to see all that Second Grade would hold in store.  As I walked to the car later that morning, my sweet neighbor (who has an only child herself and fully understands all that each landmark holds) asked me how I was doing. Funny enough, yesterday's new adventure seemed shadowed by the minutae of the morning: the baby pouring hot coffee down my pants, finding our dog had destroyed a bag of garbage all over our bedroom floor, realizing E's fish tank pump was broken.

I spent the remainder of the day tending to those crises of the morning, and trying to get my feet under me with a late afternoon bus, a fussy baby, and all that comes with Back to School life. So, to answer my neighbor, yesterday came and went without the heart pangs of realizing my baby is growing up too quickly and instead being grateful for her help.

This summer was a blur. We got started on "summer" so late thanks to the end of school chaos of responsibilities there, then heading straight into Vacation Bible School at our church. We lived up trips to Wild Goose, Wet and Wild, the beach, Camp of Kids, Merriwood, art camp, Oonie Koonie Cha, and reading book after book after book. So many things around our house got put on the back burner as I tried to be intentional about living in the moment with the girls and tried to be as present as I was able (minus a few interruptions of Netflix binges and Frozen Freefall.)

So today I find myself beginning the process of making a path. Those of you who know the events of our last few years understand that we have inherited lots of items from my Daddy's house, my Mom's house, and most recently my Grandparent's house. In the grief of shock of the Daddy's death, some of the things of his house got put away until I was able to deal with them. I had just gone through them when we brought in items from Mom's. Some days as I sorted through box after box, I just couldn't take it anymore. I would feel like I was drowning with the reality of losing both of my parents- and in those moments of drowning, I would often close the door to our garage and walk away from the task at hand. Add to that our tendency to tuck things away that need more attention than we could give... our storage room and our garage have become unbearable. From time to time we would stick things "out of the way" to deal with later.

Now is the later.

This summer, I began making a path through my pain. With the help of good friends, good routine, good truth, good meds, and good intentions... I have set my mind on not just surviving this season of life, but thriving in it. I am trying to no longer just stick things "out of the way." Just like our garage, that is a process. I have pushed things to the side so often that there are lots of layers to sort through as my heart continues to heal.

And just like my heart, our garage has layers upon layers of stories. The chalkboard one of my grandparents used in school. My Mom's Day International water bottle. My Daddy's ash tray. Elizabeth's bike that is too small. My Grandmother's painting of The Last Supper. Extra water balloons from this summer's water balloon fight. With each memory I unpack, sort, purge, and process. Some pieces make me think of friends who could use that item better. This process not only becomes a practical "To Do" task, but a spiritual one as well as I pray for those people who are called to my mind.

I am far from done. But there is now I clear path- letting me know I can function in the days to come. 

Self Care and Washing Machines

My washing machine makes this noise as it's going from one cycle to another.  It sounds kind of like an airplane taking off.  The moment it hits the next cycle (rinse?  I dunno), it has this very anticlimactic "THUD" and then it kicks into a lower gear.  Before you become concerned about the well-being of our appliances, let me assure you that it is fine.  This is par for the laundry-washing course.

Lately, the frantic-ness of life has felt a lot like that machine.  The violent hum of gearing up... you can almost tangibly feel the anticipation and chaos... and then THUD. Stop.

Historically, I have lived my life in this same pattern.  I used to say that one of the reasons God allowed me to have asthma was so that I would have an automatic shut-off valve.  When my busyness got to be too much, I would have an attack and be forced to shut down.  As I have gotten "more experienced" (and gotten better asthma maintenance drugs!), that seems to happen less and less.

But lately, I've been in that crazy spin cycle longing for the sloshing sounds of "rinse".

I felt myself being stretched to a point that wasn't possible.

I let my laundry pile up beyond the normal mountain it already was.

I allowed my family to eat out more than we cooked because of pure convenience.

I started my days in full "GO!" mode and went until I crashed- sometimes as early as 7:00pm.

And then... I stepped back.

Realizing that the last 2 years of grief had altered my body as I knew it, I assessed the situation.  What did I need to do to make things right?  Who did I need to talk to?  What should I say "no" to in my schedule?

This is not one of those blog posts where I let you know of the success of this endeavor.  I am not here to report "And thanks to Jesus and good medication, I'm fine!"

I am still wading through the evaluation.

Still catching myself in moments that I hear the hum escalate.

Still wanting to be more mindful, to feel more whole.

But here is what I can tell you: I am worth it.

I am important enough to take time for myself.

I am worthy of rest.

This is said not out of vanity or pride... but out of a basic understanding that I was made for so much more than frenetic days and harried thoughts.

As 2014 began, I challenged myself to jot down one thing I'd done for myself a day.  ONE THING.  Early in January I wrote down these treasures:
* Took a glass of wine and a book to the bath.
* Watched mindless TV and didn't multitask while doing it.
* Took a nap while Dan and E watched a movie.
* Washed my face with really good skin products

Then... the baby joined our family and we went into survival mode.  In all honesty, when I thought back to those treasures, I felt spoiled... the next few weeks were spent just getting by.

Thankfully, we're not just getting by anymore.  We are learning how to survive this crazy thing of loving someone else's child, and we're adding her to our joy.

And now that we've gotten past the crisis of "Triage Mode", I think it's time to remember my goal of self care.

Would you join me?

I have heard so many of you already cry out to Summer Angst... your kids have already reeked havoc on your house and your sanity.  So how about committing to finding ONE thing a day that is JUST FOR YOU.  Maybe you'll treat yourself to an iced latte, or a new pen, or a beer on your porch at night. Maybe you'll go on that vacation and not take your stack of thank you notes to work on... but you'll just enjoy the moment.  Maybe you'll finish that book or call that friend or paint your nails... but make it about you.

I believe that I- and you- have worth because we were created by One who desires more for us.  Whether or not you share my belief... please trust me when I say that you are worth it.

In this busy world in which we all live- we tend to put others' needs before our own.

This summer, how about taking some time for you?

You. Are. Worth. It.