I'd be More Comfortable if...

"I'd be more comfortable if..."

How many times have we used this phrase preceding something we turned down or something we felt needed to be modified to our own relief?

Comfort. We like it, don't we? Of course we do! We like our little comfort zone as much as we like getting our way and having things turn out at our easiest convenience. Comfort.

I'm writing on this because those are the exact words I was typing yesterday when I was hit with the realization that I have recently been thrown out of my comfort zone so often that the word "comfort" no longer really fits into my vocabulary. I literally cracked a smile as I typed the phrase, stopped typing, and picked the phone up to call the person to whom I was responding. More on that in a minute.

My prayer for myself lately has been that God uses me for His will, to do what He needs me to do to get the word out on how gracious He is. My prayers have been more like discussions with God; letting Him know that I'm ready, all in, for whatever He has prepared for me. Boy, I didn't realize how out of my comfort zone He was going to push me! But you know what? It's kind of like riding a roller coaster. It's an electric awakening! I'm thrilled because I have no idea what to anticipate, but I know I'm fastened in by His promises. I always loved a good roller coaster ride, but they surely aren't comfortable.

About a year ago I was asked to do the announcements and lead a prayer for a couple of weeks in my church. Being raised much more conservatively, this was way out of my comfort zone, but I took the challenge. I stammered my way through the first time or two (do you have any idea how bright the lights are on the stage?!?!), but had more fun as the following times approached. It was awesome! I felt sorrier for the people in the congregation who saw me with a microphone and no agenda written down!

Being a first year school counselor this past year after many years of teaching elementary school, I found that there is no such thing as a comfort zone there anymore. I have to deal with DHR, confused, angry and scared students as well as parents and teachers. Staying within my comfort zone would surely mean short-changing some child or family who needed help and really, that makes my zone look pretty negligent and minute. People are hurting. There is no room for my zone.

Recently I have been asked to speak at a place that our church regularly speaks one night a month on Wednesday. That really isn't a big deal for a lot of people, but I felt the blood drain out of my face. I was fine when I thought my night would be later in the year but when it quickly was moved to much earlier I began to respond, "I would be more comfortable with..." That was when it hit me. There will never be a good time to be comfortable with these changes God is making in me. Change just isn't comfortable. Period. But it's so good to look back and see the growth.

You know, God never asks anything of us without equipping us with what we need. Never. So really, it's kind of exciting to get out of that old comfort zone. In fact I told my pastor yesterday that the old comfort zone is sort of like oatmeal to me now. I taste new things and it's deliciously exciting! I have no idea what God has in store for me. I have no idea what this roller coaster ride is going to be like. I do know that God has me. Comfortable? Not always! Equipped? You bet! Hands up! Here we go!

Becky W.

June 29, 2012

 

Letting Go

The Extra Penny

~Letting Go~



You can’t move forward until you let go of the past. We know this, right? So why is it so hard for some of us? I can rant on this because this is something that haunted me for a long, long time. If you have been anywhere near me in the last year or so, you know I have taken many amazingly large leaps of growth in this area, but this isn’t about that. This is about what we all have in common, the past, the present, and our future. If you are reading this, you have a present and hope for a future. Surely, you have a past.


We all have baggage, well, most of us do. I relate well to people who have been through stuff. I feel that we somehow connect. But not so long ago I realized that I was really, really tired of lugging all of that incredibly heavy baggage around. I don’t mean ‘lessons learned’, I keep those. They’re valuable. I mean the baggage. You know what I’m talking about. Letting the past be *who I am*. I am not what I have been through. It’s been said in many different ways, but our past is not who we are.

Recently I was asked “What did you learn from that relationship?” and it really made me realize that I like where I am. I LOVE where I am! I love that everything that I have been through in the past has brought me to so many new understandings. It’s easy to have pity parties and roll around in the muck of all the crap that has happened to us, but do we really want to live in muck? Would you want your child to live like that? Do you think God wants us to live like that? What’s really wonderful is when we can genuinely relate to others going through similar things we’ve been through. When we can show them hope that things really will be okay. Haven’t you had someone do that for you? I have, and even though I was sorry for the pain they had experienced, I was glad for their true empathy. Now, sometimes, I’m that person. You are too for someone, I bet. We all have some cruddy skeletons that fall out of our closet, or the demons of bad decisions but this doesn’t mean we give up, or lay down with them and die! I don’t believe in dishonoring my Father by giving up on His plan for me because of mistakes. He made me. He knew I would make mistakes. I’m forgiven. Done. Moving forward.



My point is this: God had something in mind for each of us to fulfill, therefore he created us uniquely and individually for these tasks. We weren’t born and then God said “Yeah, I think I can fit him in here some place.” We were created for a reason… and if you are still here, if you are still reading this you have a purpose. You have a future and God is not through with you. You have not yet lived up to your full potential yet. You aren’t done.



Holding on to the past gets really heavy, doesn’t it? Why do we think we have to ask God time and time again for forgiveness when after the first time He has no idea what we’re talking about? Why do we love to submerge ourselves in pity and regret when forgiveness and newness are already available? The chains can be off immediately, with the turn of the key that has already been purchased with the blood of our Savior! Is it easier to give up and live a life of ho-hum? I think for some it is, but that, to me is a sad, sad life and good enough is by no means good enough. If my child messes up, I expect him or her to keep right on going with life! I expect my kids to live each day to the fullest and not ‘quit life’ because a mistake was made. So why do we do that? For heaven’s sake that’s what we do when we lug our baggage around. We’re giving up on a fully loaded future. You can’t extend your hand to all that God has for you if you are holding tightly to the past.



I know, I did it for a while, but I’m not doing it anymore. Bring it God! Bless me and mine! The past is not who I am… God took it and made me better, stronger, wiser, and I thank Him for that. I’ll use those tools for what He has in store for me next. No room for heavy stuff on this journey. Just faith, hope, and lessons learned… and an extended hand, of course! Ok, two extended hands…God, bless me BIG so that I can bless others.



Becky Wilkenson

June 26, 2012

Let Me Explain

The Extra Penny

Let me explain....

You’re so vain; you probably think this blog is about you. I open with that because sooo many people have told me that I “explain too much”. I try to throw out too many explanations for why I feel the way I feel or say what I say. Keep reading, I ‘m not through. And by the way, this isn’t about you; I assure you, I have been told this by many, many people.



Talking to a friend of mine recently about why women feel a need to explain something they just said, or why they feel the way feel, or why they did something they just did, I realized I wasn’t alone at all. My friend blurted out “I do that all the time, too!” I was relieved. I do that. I have always done that. Now, it’s time to let you know why I do that and why other people don’t seem to have an appreciation for why.



Educators: If you are an educator you know the years of painstaking training you put forth for minimum pay and minimum respect. Me, too. I taught for many years before going back for my MSED in Counseling. When you are fluttering through the glittery colorful world of educational ….well, education, you have it gloriously beaten into your idealistic skull that everyone is auditory, visual, and/or kinesthetic in their learning and every combination thereof. You also learn to explain things in at least 1 way per student; for example 18 students, you explain things in 18 different ways. Here’s an example: Backtrack 22 years to student teaching; young eager teacher telling even younger more eager kindergarteners to write their ABC’s on a sheet of paper without looking (at the chart b/c they can’t cheat) but you fail to say the parenthetical part. Sooooo, one little boy continues to write terribly off line and horribly crooked. You give him 2 or 3 chances, and THEN you realize that he is writing *without looking* AT ALL!! His eyes are closed. He didn’t understand that the young eager teacher meant “Don’t look at the chart”, he thought she meant “Don’t look AT ALL”. And THAT my friends, was just the beginning of the “Let me explain myself” moments in her life.



So, a counselor friend of mine assures me, as we are discussing this, “But, Becky, this is what we do all day long”. We do. We counsel children. We have to explain things to them all day long. Right or wrong, good or bad, it’s what we have to do. God forbid you allow a kindergartener or even a fourth or fifth grader walk out of your office without understanding the discussion you just had. You explain things. You ask them to explain things. If you counsel people, talk things out, explain things, and make things clear, it’s part of your job. It’s part of who you are every day of every year. It isn’t intended to be demeaning and we don’t want to be demeaned for what we do. In fact, a friend of mine tonight told me he appreciated the candidness of being bold and forthright. Thank you!!!

So, to those friends (and there are many) who think we (and there are many of us) explain too much of ourselves… consider this: We spend our school days with a lot of kids who need things explained in detail, in many different ways. We have to ask THEM to explain things in many different ways. And we really are trying to make a difference by digging deep into people that matter to us. If we matter to you, let us explain ourselves to you and don’t assume, and don’t brush us off. And *you* explain to us, if we matter. I assure you, we have the training to read between the lines. No assumptions... you know what they say when you “assume”…



Ok, I’m finished explaining…. :)



Becky

June 12, 2012

Dining Alone on the Patio

The Extra Penny

Dining Alone on the Patio



As I’m writing this, I have only been home a few moments, but I took the long way home to write this in my mind. I have no problem dining alone, and actually cherish it at times. There are some local authentic restaurants that allow wonderful patio seating, people watching, great wine, and awesome service whether you are catching up with a friend, or nose deep in a tranquil read. This afternoon, I was nose deep.



So, as I walk in and ask for the patio, the hostess informs me that “Ok, but there are storms coming”. I replied with an “Okay.” She then impressed on me “I mean a downpour… in about an hour”. To which I again replied, “Okay”. So I sat outside. It was beautiful; the weather, the breeze, the clouds, my server (more on her in a minute).



Ordering my Angeline (Russian River, a friend would be so proud), I told my server that I was planning on having a glass of wine and reading for a while, she perked up mentioning how nice it would be on an afternoon like this to just chill like I am (I even kicked my flops off). I said “Well, I fear that people are letting the threat of the weather keep them from appreciating the patio and how beautiful it is out here”. I was right. I was the only one on the patio all evening. I read, had my wine, read some more, had an appetizer, watched people come and go and wondered why do our fears of what might happen keep us from enjoying what already is?? I am the chief of all sinners when it comes to this, but really, why do we let our fears keep us from doing what we want to? So what if the downpour came? I could have gone inside at that point, AND had a good story to tell and maybe an inner hearty chuckle… OR maybe I would have sat under the tiny awning and let it downpour all around me watching others make a run for their cars. Why are we so afraid? For two good hours no one sat outside in the breezy overcast evening for “fear of the weather”.



My server, with whom I am now on a first name basis, and who is magnificently coming into her own (I see me 22 years ago before I got terribly sidetracked) said “Becky, you missed the drama inside, be glad you were out here!” It seems a guy had three Mai Thais and threw up on his table. Glad I listened to my authentic self and sat outside to people watch, read, listen and just be.



BTW, the rains have still not started, but it’s getting ominous. Yea! We need rain. I’m glad the weather held off because I had the most awesome date with myself just being out and enjoying great food, wine, reading, and meeting someone new. I enjoyed reminding myself that we don’t have to be afraid of things that may and probably will never happen. I may have a new mantra.



What about you? What do you fear that may never happen? And what if it did? We usually handle things pretty well. I had a friend tell me once that I’m like a cat, always landing on my feet. But aren't we all? And while I don’t like cats, I like that analogy...AND I like dining on patios when the weather is ‘iffy’…

Just now, I hear the thunder… :) Bring it!



Becky W.

June 11, 2012

Blue Jays and Redbirds

The Extra Penny

Blue Jays and Redbirds


I have been rather contemplative over the last few months, okay, my life. Not a bad thing, but this morning I was watching the news for a few moments and realized that I didn’t like what was on. I didn’t want to hear anything on it, I didn’t want the noise. Period. I went out back as I often do early in the morning to have my quiet time, but I wasn’t really in my prayer/meditative state either. I just didn’t want to think, so I simply had my coffee and watched the birds. Quiet. Nature. Beautiful. For a moment…


The birds are fun to watch because they seem to know what they are doing. It amazes me because no one has to tell them what to do, they just know. As I watched a couple of redbirds and a Blue Jay in one of my willows I thought “How precious, they‘re going to play together”. Being an elementary educator and now counselor you just have that kind of simplistic hope, right? Not. Apparently birds are very territorial. Apparently, even though the Blue Jay had been in that tree morning after morning (I can vouch for it, I have seen it), the redbirds decided to become bullies. They were flying from one tree to the other fighting… pecking on the Blue Jays head! Yelling at it! At least I think they were yelling, I don’t speak bird, but they were loud! I wanted to yell at all of them and tell them to stop fighting. I wanted to scream “Why can’t you just play nice and all get along and share the willow tree?!?! It’s plenty big for all of you!?” But I realized, first of all, they are birds and would have no idea what I’m talking about. Secondly, they might peck my head. And thirdly, this is what God created them to do. They are acting how they are created to act in nature.


It made me think of how many times we want to yell at others “Why can’t you act the way I think you should act?” “Why can’t you do what I think you should be doing or what I would do if I were in that tree?” I don’t mean making allowances for evils or unkind ways; I mean simply letting others be who they were created to be. Were we not created differently on purpose? Were we not all hand –crafted by God for a reason because he loved us and saw a need that we all would fulfill? Why then do we want everyone to fit into our mold? I don’t mean we shouldn’t have certain expectancies on each other as far as kindness and of our friends and family; support, love, etc. I hope my close friends and family expect certain things from me because it lets me know that they believe in me. I am talking about putting rules and expectations on each other that are unreasonable simply because we think it will work in our tree.


So, with that, I let the birds duke it out. I don’t know who won because I needed to freshen my coffee and frankly, I figure the birds know what they are doing. Do we?


So, how did my morning of ‘not thinking’ go? I guess not well. You know, I have continually been told I think too much. Guess what, that’s how I am created. I love it. There’s a reason for it and if you try to change that about me, I’ll sic the redbirds on you.


Becky W.

June 7, 2012

Idealistic

The Extra Penny

I’m Idealistic

I’m idealistic. I have heard my whole life that I am idealistic. On the other hand, I have also been told “You think too much.” So maybe I’m grounded as well. I’m not really sure how one person can go from extreme to the other unless I am thinking a lot about being idealistic.

Anyway, I used to apologize for the trait of being idealistic. Now, I think I’ll say ‘thank-you’. It takes all types to make the world turn. I was always the kid that liked the rainbows, glitter, and unicorns. I believed in the unbelievable. I still do. On the other hand I can think a situation so deep that it almost ceases to exist anymore… like unicorns. I guess it’s not that different. Anyway, I’m idealistic and I’m glad that I am because I equate that with being positive. I have always seen the positive side of things, as long as I don’t dwell on them too terribly. I think that we do create our own fortune. I can choose to ‘idealize’ what I want or go with what everyone else seems to think should happen. I choose my own path.

If much has been learned over the years, it has been that I regret what I haven’t done. I regret what I have thought into oblivion and not acted upon. I wish I had just done more; acted more, and not cared about what anyone else thought (“You’re so idealistic”). I wanted to teach in Alaska for a while. I didn’t. I wanted to go overseas and do mission work with children. I haven’t (yet). I want to live on the water before I die (I’m not dead yet). My step-dad used to say I was part gypsy. That’s ok. I know I’m different. I want to live everywhere I visit… Lexington, KY, or Scotland here I come. Lol Seriously, Sometimes I wonder why we work so hard. I know, I know, ideals don’t pay bills, but really, why are we working so hard? I love what I do. I will continue to love what I do because I will never again do what I don’t love.

My point is, in the end, and I can ONLY speak for myself, I know that I won’t be thinking ‘Gee, I wish I had spent more time in school’ or ‘I wish I had gotten that third or fourth degree’…. FOR ME I will be thinking ‘Wow, it was worth those few months living on the water’, or ‘Those years teaching the children in _________’ were amazing!’ I get excited to see what God can do next. I am working at getting away from ‘thinking too much’ although as a single mom and counselor, that sort of comes with this territory. It takes all types and I’m grateful for those more ‘grounded’. We shouldn’t judge. Maybe we could even learn from each other. A little idealism might add a little color? And a little ‘thinking too much’ might ground us… hmmmmm Just some thoughts for the evening… I think I’ll get out my glitter pens and color J

Becky W.

May 22, 2012

First Impressions ~ Not so Much

The Extra Penny

First Impressions…Not so much

I am sitting on my back porch. Those of you who know me know what solitude it brings me. Those of you who have been there, know the conversations that have taken place… the laughter, the tears, the trust. I look around and it hits me that it is looking pretty pitiful now… my backyard. My kids’ play area is rather dilapidated. I have a back porch swing that is made of wood (now) that has seen better days. Then there is the dead weeping willow.

I was thinking that if you were a first time guest you would wonder why I have a dilapidated play area in my back yard. At first glance it is sad… paint chipping, railing and swings down, etc. But allow me a moment to tell you about its heart. It was built by my kids’ father’s own hand, from oak from my parents’ land. He carefully crafted each section, painted it, and hung each swing, climbing rope, etc. Before finally deciding to tear it down a couple of years ago, after every child in the neighborhood had played on it for YEARS, we gave it one more go… each child grabbed a paint brush and we freshened it up. But now, it’s tired and ready to retire. We have one slab the kids have begun to carve their name into. That’s for me to keep. On the surface, first impression, pitiful; at heart… memories beyond any mom’s wildest dream of kool-aid days and lightening bug nights.

Then there is the swing; given to me by my son for my 3rd Mother’s Day. I was VERY pregnant with my daughter and we all used it lovingly. The cushions wore and tore but the frame was fine, so the kids’ dad made slats from oak (from my parents’ land) and rebuilt the swing. It looks sad at this point but is very sturdy and we all still sit in it, on the porch and swing. On the surface, first impression, a little worn; at heart…memories of talks, naps, kids, tears and laughter.

The willows. I have two. We planted them soon after we moved here. They both thrived for years when a year or two ago I noticed one began to look a little spindly, for lack of better word. My mom is so precious and always giving me things to plant. Were it not for her, this would be a brick plantation. So one finally met its creator last year but stands stick tall very close to its lush green partner. I haven’t cut it down yet. It has been there for so long, it has seen dozens of mowings, hundreds of golf balls, softballs, baseballs, kids, footballs, and my dogs….heavens the dogs! On the surface, an eyesore; at heart…memories of branches in the face while mowing, marking off where our ‘pool will be one day’, bases while playing ball, and ‘thank goodness the tree caught the ball before it landed in Mr. Dan’s yard’.

So, come on over and sit on the swing and enjoy the solitude on my prized back porch. Just know what to expect. :)On the surface, we’re rough, pitiful, run down, and sad looking. If we all just look a little closer and get to know each other a little better, it’s pretty intriguing the stories that come with all the paint chips, warped wood and dead trees. In fact, I worry about anyone who has the picture perfect yard. First impressions… if you judge by them, you get what you see…for a short time. But get to know someone… it is SO worth the experience and lightening bug nights.

Becky Wilkenson
May 21, 2012

Gifts

The Extra Penny

Gifts



With May being like December in our home with kid’s birthdays, graduations, Mother’s Day and this year, baptisms, I have been thinking a lot about gifts. I keep asking my kids what they want for their birthday. My oldest is a little laid back about his while my youngest goes online and sends me links to specific things. Gifts are a funny thing. We search and search for the *perfect* thing for our children. Something we know they will love and cherish; something that speaks to them from us, something they not only need but want, but will really surprise them. We thoughtfully pick the gift and keep it hidden until just the right moment. Then, as they are opening their hand-picked treasure we are probably giddier than they, anticipating their joy and surprise. We don’t love the ‘thank-you’s as much as we love for them to cherish and use our gift.

A friend of mine recently came into a beautiful, long awaited relationship. Over the last few months she has seen more and more that this is truly a gift from God. We were discussing how we feel in the newness of relationships; excited, and scared all at once. I thought about gift-giving. God gave her this relationship, I really believe that. So how does He want to be thanked? He wants to see the joy on her face as she is opening this treasure. He picked this for her and He wants her to love this gift because He knew what she needed and wanted and found just the right one. This is what He wants for all of us in our relationships, our gifts; our children, our spouses, our parents, our families. They are such incredible gifts that we continue to open and enjoy with time and when we trust our parent, our God, to pick exactly what we need with the desires of our heart; He continually gives us amazing things to open as life journeys onward. How do we thank Him? We use our gifts. We treasure them. We love them. We don’t put them on the shelf to collect dust until a better day, we say “Way to go, God! It’s more than I ever dreamed!” and to my friend who doesn’t even have a fb page (I’ll send this to you), keep enjoying this beautiful gift, I think this may be the most amazing one yet!

Becky Wilkenson

May 15, 2012

Not a Number

More than a number.
I have realized so many times that I am so much more than a number. So are you. I guess I felt compelled to write about it tonight when I walked passed my bathroom scale and said to myself “You forgot to weigh yourself”, and then in the same breath I replied to myself “You are not that number.”

How often are we asked to give a number for identification? How often are we associated with a number? I am not a number. I am not the number on the scale or a BMI. I am not a Social Security number. I am not an account number, an invoice number, a check number, a routing number or a checking account number. I am not a checking account balance or a savings balance or a retirement amount. I am not a PIN number, Rep number, order number, or number in line. I am not 8/04/69. I am not 2 divorces. I am not single. I am not 2 kids. I am not ‘middle’ or second. I am not 42. I am not employee number, patient number, mortgage number or house number. I am not a badge number, birth certificate number, driver’s license number. I am not SAT, OLSAT, Dibel, ARMT, ACT, SAT, GPA, NTE, GRE or Praxis. I am not a student number, visitor number, or member number, or room number. I am Becky.

I *am* created in the image of God (Gen. 1:27) there is no number here. It isn’t written that I was created child #1,344,355 in God’s image. We were created in His image. Period. No number. God is infinite. We are infinite. Recently I was on the back porch, staring at the stars. It had been a hard day. I heard my son walk up behind me. I said “The Bible says he knows the names of each star (Psalms 147:4) and sometimes I wonder if He really remembers mine” and my son in his wonderful wisdom said “Of course He knows your name, Mom; he even knows how many hairs are on your head at this very minute”. I realized, to God, there are no numbers. We are His and we are Him. I also realized I have one amazing son (and daughter).

I am not a number. I am God’s. I am love. I am infinite. You are not a number. You are. We are. We are. We are.

Becky W.
April 13, 2012

Grace

Grace

My new favorite word for the last many months has been “Grace”. I picture grace to be a beautiful antique pottery jar full of cool clear water filling a dry empty cup; or a cloud of heavy raindrops falling on dusty, dry earth to make it rich and viable again. I think in pictures a lot.

Anyway, grace is something that I have had to pray for, a lot. I think of all the people who have shown me what grace is, and there are so many. They don’t even realize it because it is a part of their being. That is what I strive for. I have prayed for that so much lately, to show grace to others, like I have been shown. I was struggling with this on a particular day recently and called my little sister. She did her sisterly duty and listened without condemnation. She is much wiser than she gives herself credit. During a pause in conversation, she said “You know it’s like the movie Evan Almighty, Becky, ‘when someone prays for patience, does God give him patience or the opportunity to be patient? When someone prays for courage does God give him courage or the opportunity be courageous?...’ You’re praying for grace; is God giving you grace, or the opportunity to show it?” Wow. She was so right on many levels.

I began thinking about what the Bible says about being created in His image. We have what we need already. I have grace. I needed to find it within. I am being given the opportunity to show it, and that is what building my character is. It’s not like praying and something magical happening and ‘ZAP’ I have a trait that I want. I already had it, I need to exercise it. Isn’t that how we make our muscles stronger? By exercise? How then do we make our faith, love, honesty, sincerity, selflessness, grace stronger? I’m sure, by exercising them. And if we look carefully, God gives us the opportunities to do this daily.

This may be all old news to you, or maybe you’ll kindly roll your eyes and move on. It was a wonderful, gentle reminder to me that we really have what we need. We just need to ask for God to show it to us again…. Maybe, if you’re like me, you forgot where you put it.

For those who have shown me grace when I least deserved it, I am humbled and eternally grateful.

Grace, such a beautiful word… such a beautiful verb.

Becky W.
January 21, 2012

Pride and Prejudice and What I See

The Extra Penny ~ Pride and Prejudice and what I see…

Ok, so I have a confession to make; if Pride and Prejudice is on TV, I’m a total slave to it. I can’t turn away. It is so incredibly well written, so well-acted… I just become engrossed. My loving mother might say that it is the idealist in me that can’t turn the channel. It might be the historian in me. I’m not sure. But here’s my take on it… It is how incredibly sensual and loving it can be without being, well, tacky.

Here’s what I mean… So many of the movies today seem to really reveal (REALLY reveal) to us more and more to get us to “feel” because we have become so overly stimulated with media (games, computers, beeps, buzzers, the lack of clothes and the show of skin on TV). It seems to take more and more to really make people aware of feelings. To me, that’s pretty sad. When I watch Pride and Prejudice, I see humor, sadness, frustration, anger, passion, faith, hope, passion (did I say passion twice??)… all fully dressed and with witty tactful humor. I see heated sensual sarcasm. I see respect, tremendous respect. I see gentlemen who may lose their cool, but never, ever their composure; women who may be of lower “class” but not “classless”.

My point is this, throughout the movie Mr. Darcy is rather awkward, terse sometimes, meaning well, but rather pointed. He knows Elizabeth is from a class “below” his (sorry, but let’s face it, in this time, it was), he knows she is spirited, smart, independent, funny, wise, and loving. After much, much mulling, even his own awkwardness cannot keep him from her and (spoiler alert) when he is walking through the morning mist, there is nothing, NOTHING that will keep him from her… the adoration, love and confidence he exudes at that point is beyond anything I have seen on the screen in …. Well… forever. He knows what he’s in for with her. He knows what he wants. He is sure. He is a gentleman. She is there also…. And that is better than anything I have ever seen on a screen. There isn’t even a kiss at that point. There isn’t a need for one. The commitment is there. The certainty is there. The love, the passion, the drive to make sure this works out. THAT is what makes me plant myself in front of Pride and Prejudice when I see it. I am sorry for the flittering things of today that base themselves on less substantial things. Idealistic? Maybe… But I’ll risk that.

Becky W.
Nov. 19, 2011

The Water

The Extra Penny ~ Water

First of all, I hate my computer. Now, I’ll move on… I’ve always been drawn to water; the beach, the lake, the river, ponds. Water. I love it. It calms me and always has. Driving across an expansive bridge gets me giddy and it’s hard to keep my eyes on the road because I have to stare down at the water (it's always better if I'm the passenger). Is it calm? Is it ripply? Is it windy enough to actually make the water wavy? Are there sailboats, skiers, jet skis? Water. I have a fearful respect for it.
Sunday I went to a funeral in Guntersville. It was for a lovely great aunt of mine, who, by the way, I never saw without a smile on her face. She was one of many memories I had growing up, going to Guntersville Lake. I knew if I rode to the funeral with my mom and sister it would take me longer, but I also knew that I wouldn’t cross the causeway if I did. I love crossing the causeway. I also knew that if I rode by myself from Mom’s, then went home “the back way” I would get to cross TWO causeways across the lake to get home.
Heading home, my heart was giddy as I approached the first causeway. I looked to the right across the water as far as I could see. I caught a glimpse of my Aunt Elizabeth’s beautiful home and it made me smile to think she can wake each day and look at the beautiful lake. I glanced back to the road, driving slowly. I peered to the right again looking as far as I could to see if I could catch sight of a familiar round stone area by a pier. I don’t. It’s too far away. It’s where I used to swim with my sisters. I see men in boats looking as happy and peaceful as children. Turning left and driving past the park, I pass an overlook that I remember Granddaddy taking us to when we were kids, to look at…the water. As I get to the next causeway, the one that is soooo high up, I turn left and slowly creep across it. My heart pounds and I wonder why I am so drawn to water; why I wanted so badly to be there, anywhere, there is water. Then it hits me as I look at the lake. I see it, hear it, and feel it. I am very young and in the boat with Daddy. He’s letting me steer… the wind is whipping my hair, the water is spraying up, we are all laughing. And everything was ok.
I think of the dock across from Granny and Granddaddy’s where we would go swim in the Guntersville Lake, and everything was okay. I remember Smith Lake when I was about 5 years old and terrified to jump off the pier, but there was Daddy to catch me. He missed. I learned to swim. But he stayed right there, holding me, making sure that everything was okay. The water. Everything was always okay there.
After Dad died, I remember going to Smith Lake with Mom, my sisters, and friends. There was laughter, picnics, silliness…and I knew everything was still going to be okay. There were days of swimming with my cousins at Uncle Walt’s, the most peaceful setting I’ve ever known in my life. I let my own kids dive in with their cousins, impromptu a few years back… and again had that feeling that everything in life is going to be okay. My kids’ dad taught me the art of sailing. Gliding across the water on Watt’s Bar and even down on the ocean brought me a peace I can’t explain (and those who sail, know it’s a lot more work than it looks!). I am grateful for those experiences.
The water. Once my sister and I were on a catamaran on the ocean traveling from one place to another and for a few brief moments we lost sight of land. I realized what respect I have for the water, but I wasn’t “afraid” really. I still knew everything would be okay.

The water. I’m sure everyone has something that brings a calming peace to them like the water does to me. I’ve always said that one day, one day I want to live on the water; to wake each day and see the sun sparkle like diamonds on the surface of the water and feel that peace every day. Until then, I’ll let my heart do little flip flops as I cross the causeways. I’ll smile to myself every time I see sails on the water, or listen to my own kids tell me about their boating experiences with their dad and grandparents. I still get that peace near…
the water.

Becky W.
April 19, 2011

Real Women, in my opinion

The Extra Penny ~ Real Women, in my opinion.
So last night there was some sort of basketball final on t.v. (I was pulling for Butler), so my usual Monday night line-up was totally interrupted. Instead of sending death threats to WHNT (given one of the anchors is my boyfriend), I surfed. I landed on, briefly….BRIEFLY one of the “Real Housewives of ______County”. I left that blank because I don’t know which one it was, nor do I care.
I am probably going to say what most of us think at this point. What’s real about that? I’m not talking about how these women look; they are absolutely gorgeous! Whether any of that is real or not is beside my point. I want to know, really, what is “real” about those shows? I watched one woman driving around in her very posh car, on her Bluetooth, totally bashing one ‘friend’ to another, then inviting the same ‘bashed’ friend to a party because "a party isn’t a party without her!” I wondered in what grade she felt perpetually stuck, or was trying to go back to?
Real women. That rolled around in my head a lot last night, and please keep in mind this is my opinion and I will probably leave things out, but the real women (housewife or working or both) don’t behave like that. Real women take care of each other. They bake casseroles when their friends are sick or have lost loved ones. They encourage their children and friends when the darkness seems too thick to cut through. Real women drive each other to the doctor ‘just for company’ or sense when they need to be there. They take care of ailing parents, while shuffling kids to games or doing their own housework while never complaining that they missed their weekly pedicure (who gets a weekly pedicure?!) Real women take responsibility; pick themselves up, move forward. They don’t make excuses to be bitter, but take opportunities to be better. The real women I know are often tired. They are content, happy, and tired because their plate is constantly full of making sure everyone else’s plate is full of “at least one good protein, a fruit and at least one green vegetable” (that won’t go to the dog). Real women watch over their divorced or widowed friends and offer to take their kids to give them breaks; or remember them at Christmastime when they feel alone. They stay up all night with sick kids and still go to work the next day. They do without, so everyone else can have what is necessary, plus a little extra. Real women take care of everyone while trying to schedule a sliver of “me” time to refresh themselves. And if they actually DO take a GNO, they will tell you it’s because they want to be better , recharged “for others”.
I am a far cry from being what I see to be the perfect woman. I have had so many wonderful role models in my life… my mom, my sisters, my own daughter, and my friends. I have fallen into the trap that magazine covers and “Real Housewives” show us how we should act and look, but I’ll never achieve that either…. And I’m glad I am past thinking that is real. I am glad that I have had several epiphanies over the last year that help me sort out what I consider to be real and not (Teachers: reality/fantasy). I am getting crow’s feet. I have cellulite. I have mood swings (some of you are going ‘Duh!’). But I love my friends and family and I strive to take care of them. I watch carefully the real women that I know, and learn from them. The one common denominator in all the real women I admire so much is that they are selfless. They aren’t concerned with what others think of them. They focus on others….others….others…
So when I switch on the tv and see “Real Housewives”, I snicker a little. I know those women probably wouldn’t last a day in the shoes of the real women I am so blessed to know.

Becky W.
April 5, 2011

Inside the Schools

The Extra Penny
Inside the Schools

I may have posted something like this before, I don’t even know, but if I did, I’m not apologizing and here I go again!
Recently there was a blurb on the news about a bus driver who, while driving, reached back and yanked a little girl down, who was on her knees, leaning over the back of the seat. While his actions were inappropriate and out of line, I was probably not the only person to ask “How many times had he asked her to turn around and sit down?” I am not defending his actions, but I am here to tell you as an educator that people are not getting a clear view of what is going on inside our schools.
Before you think I am going to blast anyone or anything, I assure you, I care more about my job than that. I am going to come at this from a different angle. If you know anyone working in a school, they are there most likely because they love children and want to help them become accomplished, successful citizens. Seriously. That includes the ladies who serve the children lunch, who can NOT indeed read the children’s minds and DO need them to speak up and say what they want on their tray. That includes the ladies in the office who speak kindly to the kids who come in late 3-4 days a week and personally walk them to class to make sure they arrive safely and don’t feel alone. Who also, most importantly, make sure the children get the snacks that Mom drops off AFTER snack time. Also included here is the nurse, who usually has between 700 and 1,000 students (local elementary schools) to care for every day. She can’t just give up when strep and the stomach bug are going around. She can’t give up when parents don’t answer their phones or get mad at HER because their child is sick and they are inconvenienced and have to pick them up because their child, along with 3 or 4 other kids are throwing up outside of the nurse’s half-bath sized office. This rant includes the maintenance and custodian staff and scores of other people who come in contact with the children. And of course, the teachers…. Of which I proudly am.

I sometimes question my choice of profession when I have a student roll their eyes at me, stomp off, grunt at me, or just choose not to do something I ask of them. But every now and then I get that sweet, sweet note from a student telling me they think I’m pretty cool. Or I get that email from a parent telling me thank-you for caring for their child, and I realize there ARE some people out there who “get” why we ALL do what we do.
Folks, schools are getting no funding. We are given some very strict guidelines to follow. We are in fear of losing our jobs, and we are terrified that our babies are not being prepared for the future... We love these kids and WE jump through hoops for little pay, little respect, and a mass of confusion to make sure the kids are cared for. Yes, seriously. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
My point for writing this is this; please consider what each person in that school does. Please consider how many children we work with every day. Consider the parents we deal with, and all the baggage that each person is bringing to this education table, not by choice. We all have it. We all bring it. We all need to make more allowances for what we can’t help but lug around. The kids don’t choose their situations. Many of those parents don’t choose their situations. The school employees don’t choose their situations. But we can choose to work together or not. We can choose to be kind to each other or not. We can choose to try to be a little more understanding or not. I am a teacher, but I’m also a parent, so I get both sides. There is no easy solution… except to maybe try to be a little less judgmental of each other. Just my humble opinion.

Becky W.
March 10, 2011

More than Just Trees (War Eagle)

The Extra Penny: More than just the trees

I had to put my penny in w/the thousands of others who are blogging about Toomer’s Corner because I think some people are missing the point here.

To those of you who are posting such things as “Wow, I didn’t know you people were so attached to your trees down there” I think I can speak for many when I say, this is about so much more than just those big, beautiful trees on Toomer’s Corner. This is about memories of laughter, engagements on the corner, toddlers learning to throw-the-roll before they can count to 20. This is about generations of families sharing traditions, and about good fun having no age limit. This is also about the sadness of shear hatred and selfishness.

For years SEC teams have enjoyed the rivalry, teasing, and heightened emotions of the ‘big game’ in the fall; perhaps above all, Auburn and Alabama. How many of us have been vacationing in another state or even another country and heard the cry “War Eagle!” or “Roll Tide!” and instantly felt a connection with a stranger?

Mr. Updyke, in his attempts to destroy the Auburn camaraderie, the tradition, the legacy, failed to think through the bonds that the Auburn family has. He failed to even think through the bonds that the SEC family has, because as of right now, no one wants to claim someone who would show such profound hatred toward another family. Many devout Alabama fans have posted their outrage and sadness at such an act of vandalism.

Many Auburn officials are reminding the fans to keep showing the class that Auburn fans are known to show. I hope that if anything, this act of malice will remind us of how quickly things can be taken ‘too far’ and gently prod us to put things back in to perspective.

Attacking Mother Earth was a very low move. The trees will probably die. We know that already. The memories, the legacy will not.

Nice try, Mr. Updyke… and War Damn Eagle!

BW
February 17, 2011

Thanksgiving 2010

Today’s Extra Penny.

I have been thinking, yes really, a lot lately. Actually those of you who know me are aware that I rarely stop thinking and that is sometimes a curse for me. I wish I could stop. But, as Thanksgiving is upon us, it is an obvious time of reflection. We are wise in the ways of being thankful for friends and family, for food and warm beds, for jobs if we are so fortunate to have one right now… and we should be thankful for such things. I have been thinking of the strange events in my life that have molded me into who I am today.
I lost my father when I was only six years old. He was diagnosed with cancer and within a couple of months, he was gone. He was 40. He left behind 3 little girls and a wife who adored him beyond anyone’s comprehension. I have questioned the why’s of it all, but that never brought him back. I don’t think God causes bad things to happen, I think they just happen, and if we trust, He’ll work with them for us and show us things we never thought we would see. That’s where I am. I am not thankful Dad didn’t live, but I am thankful for the strength my mom and sisters and I drew from that trial. I am thankful for the bond we have now because we had no choice. I am thankful for the Sunday nights watching Alice, while eating popcorn and having hot chocolate for dinner, thinking we must be the most special family in the world to do that. We were. I am thankful that Daddy prepared us, within that short time, to keep living and not die also. It was his legacy.
I have had some failed relationships, and I am thankful for what I have brought out of those. I never dreamed I would have the nerve to walk back onto a college campus and register, in my late 30’s, to get another degree. But I did. And if I hadn’t been through those trials and learned that I can pull myself up, I would never have known that I could juggle being a single mom, working full time, and getting that degree I’d wanted for so long. But I did …Because through trials, we find our strength. We find ourselves. With the help of our family and friends of course J I taught my children that we don’t quit.
I read the book The Shack and loved it. Whether you liked it or not, there is a lot to be taken from it. A dear friend of mine in VA used to say “Eat the fish and spit out the bones”… (Thanks, Martha!! J) Meaning, of course, take what you need and leave the rest. But one small part of what I take from this book is that through the things you don’t understand, just be. Just trust. It isn’t about understanding and making sense of it all. It’s about love, relationships, trusting, letting go. It may be much simpler than we try to make it. So for me, ‘she who must make all things make sense’, it was an eye-opener. How does that tie-in to everything else I’ve mentioned? During the storms, it’s very difficult to see that God may be making something incredibly beautiful out of all that rain. Sometimes we see it sooner, sometimes it takes years. Sometimes we may never understand. It’s not our job to understand, but I bet if you look closely at the trials you’ve been through, you’ll see that some pretty wonderful things have come from them you may not have experienced otherwise.
This Thanksgiving I am, strangely, thankful for the trials I have been through. I like seeing the good in things. I want to teach my children to do the same. I like where I am. I also know what it took to get me here. Happy Thanksgiving all!

Becky Wilkenson 2010

It's Just a Refrigerator

Today’s extra penny.

I have all of about 5 minutes to write about something weighing heavily on my mind… life. What can I possibly write about in 5 minutes having to do with something as deeply as the topic “life”? Well, mostly the fact that I realize there is nowhere in print that it should be taken seriously. A series of unfortunate events has brought this to light for me in the last several weeks.

As my wonderfully, relaxing summer began, I was hit with the fact that I would probably need new field lines for my septic tank . Soon afterwards I realized that my dishwasher needed some TLC to work its best, and apparently I am the only person who knows how to stroke its ego. I needed 2 new tires; one of which, within 3 weeks, found a nice screw in the road and needed repair. I broke a vacuum cleaner, knocked over and cracked my stained glass lamp, left the gas on, on the grill, so a new tank was needed I knocked myself “offline” by playing around on my computer (thank you Knology man for coming and fixing that). But then, then comes the refrigerator. Ah, the fridge… slowly the cool, was not so cool. And, on the night of my “party”, it decided to say “hmmmm, yeah, I’m about done”. Luckily it was cold enough that I’m pretty sure no one got sick (or they’re too sick to call and tell me), but we did have to empty it out, defrost it, and try a few things. As of now, it’s temporarily back in working order; but for a couple of days things like “The milk is in the blue cooler…it’s still good. And if you get hungry, the lunch meat is in the other cooler. I think it’s okay, too. The mustard is in the cooler on the counter…” were common.

My point is this… while all of these bumps in the road of life have the momentary feel of Mt. Everest, they are just bumps. They are, refrigerators. And that became a household phrase this weekend. When something frustrating would creep up, like when I accidentally whapped my son’s (full) bowl of popcorn and it went flinging up into the air like a scene from a movie, everyone stopped, awaiting my reaction…. I fell to the floor half-laughing, scooping up the remains of my mishap. My son, helping me, said “It’s just a refrigerator, Mom”. He is so right. We are all healthy and happy. These bumps in the road of life, they’re just refrigerators.

Becky
Originally posted July 26, 2010

I've been wondering; if we give our two cents, and people give us a penny for our thoughts... where is the extra penny going? I've got it! I believe that's what I'll call this....
Well, tonight I was thinking about so many things from the fact that my neighbor apparently hasn't paid attention to his calendar (it's the 6th now, Einstein, cut out the fireworks!!!) to all the "things I am so thankful for". It occurred to me that not one of the things that I am thankful for, are, well, "things".
I am so thankful for my mom who never gave up on us all those times I'm sure she thought she could probably get a shiny nickel for us if she really tried. I am thankful for Sunday lunches at her house w/the fam and all the grandogs. I am thankful for my sisters and my niece... where would I be without you? My children, of course came to mind first... MA's big beautiful eyes and how sweetly she says "good morning" each morning. The way L measures himself to me every single day to see if he's outgrown me yet (almost!), and how he watches over me like it's his job (it's not, but he thinks he's supposed to). Greg and how he mowed my yard so I wouldn't have to and we could go out earlier that evening.... My BFF's (you know who you are).... my FB friends who send me kind notes of how they appreciate what I have to say.
There are so many other people and situations for which I am so grateful and again... I kind of chuckled to myself tonight when I was making my mental list (you should do the same; it's very therapeutic) when I realized, not one of them was a "thing"... they are the wonderful people who bless my life daily....
So thank you… for blessing me and our lives. I’ll keep the extra penny and see if I can buy another deep thought!
Regards,
Becky

Originally posted July 6, 2010