It may be time to admit to myself that I'm just not a blogger. 

Wouldn't  I love to sit down and make a nice long post about my life and the excitement and activities, heavily laden with wit and intelligent metaphors. 
Yeah, not happening.  It's my day off of work and be-yoo-tee-ful outside, so I'm not going to spend much time on the computer.


...plus my 's' and 'v' keys aren't working so well and that's just annoying me. 

I recently agreed to help teach Sunday School at my church, because my mom has taught it to the middle-school aged kids for the past year and a half or so, and with her making an exit, they have fallen into a sort of quandary. There are 2 or 3 of us that said we would help, so I don't expect to have to teach it every week, but in the midst of life-decision making and moving, I'm a little worried that I'm going to short-change the kids.
We are expecting to get some curriculum soon so that whoever is teaching any given week won't have a huge responsibility to plan a lesson, but until then I'm just sort of throwing stuff together.

I've never been the teaching kind, really. At least I've never seen myself as such, more often focusing on my imperfections in that field. I'm not always the most patient person when it comes to trying to get children to focus, but given the fact that I worked at a summer camp for 5 years and never came to blows, I guess I do all right.

I guess it comes down to my sort of self-deprecating tendencies and my constant feelings of inadequacy when involved in any sort of leadership. But really, even the men and women that we consider to be great spiritual leaders - whether historically or presently - definitely are not infallible. A spiritual giant, I do not have to be, and thank the Lord. Because in that respect, falling short is an understatement.

The bloggin' bug has bit again...usually this happens when I have more time on my hands than I know what to do with, but in this case that's just not...the case. Ahem.

I've spent the morning immersed in one of my favorite pet projects: packing. And when I say "favorite pet project", I mean "I've done it so many times now that it's basically like breathing so just give me a few boxes and I'll have my junk in 'em in record time." See those well-loved boxes...they've been packed and taped and broken into and packed and retaped again and again. Lord knows where we got some of them, they've been around so long. Ah, cold but sure friends.

Anyhoo, at least this time we're not going very far. My parents are moving back to jolly ol' England this summer, and as much as I would love to up and go with them, I'm a little past the point in my life where
a) it's normal for me to just follow my parents wherever in sunder they go, and
b) I can just opt out of school and mosey around because it's getting a little ridiculous that I've been in college for the length of time that I have and am still degree-less. Well, almost degree-less. I have an Associate's in English from Rend Lake, which is basically the equivalent of a degree in waitressing. -deep breath-

Moving on (literally, har har), my parents are returning to ol' Blighty while my sisters and myself are finding a place to live here in P'ville. We have a few options, one of which is to board with a woman who offered the upstairs of her house to us. It is not our first choice in any respect, but it's a very reasonable offer. And since it's rent-free and Rachel is saving for grad school in Wales and Mary is saving for college in England and I'm....well I'm...doing whatever--it seems like the most logical option. Sigh. But nothing is decided yet, we're just blindly packing. Seems like I've been in this place before in life.

'Kay. Back to the grindstone.

Headed to England in exactly 4 1/2 hours.

Well, technically in 4 1/2 hours I am headed to Mt. Vernon.

At which point I will join my professor and fellow student on a 6-hour car trip to Chicago.

After which, we will sit in the airport for obscene amounts of time, waiting for our plane to board, because Peggy found it necessary to leave TWELVE HOURS before our flight time.

And then I'll be headed to England.

My oh my, am I ready to go home. This last week of camp has just gotten plain depressing, what with the fact that all of my closest friends have left, plus there are only 35 campers. Granted, I still have lots of people to hang out with, but at this point I'm just mentally and physically exhausted. I've been here for 3 months tomorrow.

On the upside, I'm learning to play the guitar which hasn't turned out to be as hard as I assumed it would be. I realized as I was washing my hands a few minutes ago that I can't really feel the fingertips of my left hand, but I'm kind of addicted to pulling out my friend Travis' guitar and strummin' away at it...when I can get a free 15 minutes of course. It is so peaceful to sit alone and sing/play for a bit--it definitely calms a person down. And the fact that typing is putting my fingers into a fair amount of pain is just the small price one pays for talent.

I'm actually sitting in the Tabernacle right now, watching Skit Night happen. Skit Night is a... special event. If there are skits by counselors and program, they are usually worth a good laugh. If there are skits by campers, there is a lot of awkward silence and "Is it done? Was that the punch line? " moments. Last week there was a skit in which (as far as I can tell) two girls were shopping for clothes when an old woman came on stage, in what turned into a fight for a purple bra involving beatings with a cane.
All that was going through my mind was, "Why. Is. There. A. Bra. On. Stage."
There was a lot of giggling coming from the little boys.
There were a lot of mouths hanging open from the counselors.
There was one big glare aimed toward Rebekah from the Program Director.
And a good time was had by all.

Today, my friend Britta and I decided to get away from camp during my off-session and went for a drive. That drive turned into us parking at a little chapel and hiking to the firetower on Peekaboo Mountain. The fire tower has long been out of use for fire-watch, but is now just a place to look over the land and check out the view.
It was a nice little hike--took about 20 minutes to walk across a couple fields and get up the "mountain".

These are just a couple pictures from the top of the tower, and the view straight down.

I often (more often than not, actually) forget how blessed I am to spend the summer in such a beautiful state.

The summer is winding down quickly, which honestly is okay with me at this point. I have about 2 camper weeks left, then a few extra days 'til I head home on the 25th. Usually around this time of the summer I start to get nostalgic and weepy about the friendships I'll miss and the environment that I'll no longer be in, but this year I'm kind of like, "Meh. Whatevs." I know very well how much I will miss LW and the people here, but I'm ready to go home and move on to the next step, i.e. England.

I'm not at the point where I'm nervous or excited about spending the semester overseas...it's not close enough to the date where I leave yet, so the fact that I'm about to travel thousands of miles to a place I've never been with no one I know hasn't caught up to me. I am however very much looking forward to the move. It's so amazing to know that God can work these things out. Last summer and fall, I went into a mild depression because I had no idea what my life was amounting to, and there was absolutely nothing on the horizon. Now, a year later, the Lord has more than provided for my trip to Canterbury, and also has provided a possible direction for the time when I get back.
On another good note, I think I can get my Associate's degree in English by the end of this school year. That would be awesome, to at least have some tangible evidence of the work I've done. It's discouraging to know that of the 45 credits (plus sacrificing blood, sweat, tears, and a social life) at Liberty, only about 12 of those credits transferred, but I definitely would do the year there again.
That being said, there has been a thought in my head which popped up several weeks ago, and I haven't been able to shake it as of yet--and with the little I know of how God works, I realize that sometimes He just puts a small idea into our minds and waits for us to catch on. I've been praying for a little while now about finishing up my English degree and then possibly returning to Rend Lake in the 2010-11 school year to begin an Associates in Nursing degree. I'm still not positive about it, hence the prayer.

Anyway, random camper quote of the day:
*In reference to a plastic owl we sometimes place on the swim area floating dock in order to scare away seagulls*
Camper - Do you lifeguards use that for practice rescues?

......absolutely we do.

Is it ever just overwhelming to realize the fact that growing in the Lord is a lifelong process?
I mean...I'll never get to the place where I can say, "Ok, I'm good, I've reached my goal."

Boyohboy.

I can't think of a more honorable calling.

Happening of the day:

Levi & I are talking, enter 13 year old staff boy.
Staff boy: (joking) Stop talking about me!
Levi: (joking) Yeah, we were talking because Bekah has the hots for you.
Staff boy: (no longer joking) Ewww!! She's too old!
Levi: Nah, she's only 20.
Staff boy: (serious) What?? Only 20??
Me: (getting a little worried) How old did you think I was?
Staff boy: (serious as a heart attack) Somewhere in your 30s!

....and Rebekah's self-confidence plummets to the Pits of Despair, while a burst of hysterical laughter emits from Levi's mouth.

I love these moments in life. There's nothing left to do but smile, move on, and start looking into Botox and mail-order husbands.

Uhm...so I haven't posted in a long, long time. But I felt the inspiration tonight, and unfortunately I don't really have the time to say much. I'm sitting in the sound booth, listening to Wayne, our Program Director, drone on and on to a bunch of kids about stuff that isn't really pertinent to their stay here, but he insists on being up there.

This summer has been different from others...the biggest change obviously being that I'm no longer a counselor but instead an Assistant Program Director, which has its ups and downs. I'm definitely being taught a lot about patience and working with difficult people, which I thought I had gotten my fill of while working at Super 8, but apparently God thinks I need some more.

Bed. Finally.
I'm going to try to update a bit more than in the past, mostly because I need to get on the ol' soapbox now and then to let off some...words.
I love God, my family, Barat, and sunshine--so those things are keeping me afloat.
Bekah

Dealing with people is a funny thing. In the last few months, I've had to tackle some of the most frustrating forms of humanity possible, and goodness knows I'm not exactly the most patient in situations such as these. The least of which being customers who come to the hotel; the men who think they're just so dashing and witty. No, I would not like to give you my number. No I would not like to come to your room for a drink. I'm not sure when exactly deer hunters got the idea that coming in at all hours of the night after hunting all day--dirty, smelly and invariably drunk--is attractive to women.
Not to mention those that I actually know who are giving me grief. You know how you think certain personalities are only contrived in Hollywood? Oh no, they exist. And how. I am almost at the point of giving up on this generation of men. No, maybe therein lies the problem. Guys have lost the ability to mature into men at the age for which it is proper. There are still so many boys out there in men's bodies, without the slightest motivation to live up to their potential. Obviously there are exceptions to this. End rant.

In thinking about all of the things that happened in 2008, I am encouraged to think about what could happen in 2009.
Not that anything particularly wonderful or exciting occurred in '08, but there was so much change. And right now, change is something I crave, almost constantly. I am not unhappy. I don't lock myself up in my room to bemoan all of my misfortunes, because there's nothing to bemoan.
2008 was a year of growing, in so many different ways. Not only did it bring my second semester at LU, and all of the situations I was required to deal with there, but also having to face the fact that I wouldn't be returning in the fall, that I would be moving back home, that I had to go back to a place and situation I'd never thought to be in again.
God has something in store for me, though I haven't the foggiest what it may be. 2009 could be another year of great change, and I'm sure that my learning experiences are in no way even close to being over.

I swear, the longer one goes without blogging, the harder it is to start up again.
I promise to try soon.

Well this puts a new spin on things....

Work, home, church. This is what my life in general is beginning to consist of.

With random trips with friends (from church of course) to go explore caves in the middle of nowhere. That was fun...we got filthy and met some bats.

I just don't know.

My job consists of sitting behind a desk for 8 hours at a time, performing menial tasks that involve checking people in, checking people out, doing laundry, sweeping and mopping, and fighting off the creepers whose eyes wander too much.
The other day, I had a mountain of laundry to do, so I decided to keep a tally of exactly how much it was. The washers and dryers there are monstrous, but of course there were still several load's worth.
Here is the final score:
King Size Sheets - 16
Double Sheets - 37
Hand Towels - 24
Washcloths - 24
Bathmats - 18
Pillowcases - 63
Bath towels- 41
Rags - 104
In 3 1/2 hours, I washed (and soaked the rags in bleach), dried, folded, and neatly put away 327 separate pieces of laundry.
You can't BUY skills like those. I should hire myself out.
I must say, there is some sort of satisfaction in going into the laundry room behind the front desk, seeing dirty stuff everywhere, piled in all of the carts, some on the floor....and then leaving 3 hours later with the shelves all full of neat stacks of clean sheets and towels.
Maybe most people don't find that satisfying, but I've always had an appreciation for organization...even if it doesn't show in the state of my room most of the time.

I found a small thing of pepper spray and a pocketknife in the drawer at the front desk. It gives me a small amount of comfort to know that it's there, even though honestly I have no idea how to use either. Pepper spray seems simple enough--point, spray. But I would probably be endangering myself even more to break the knife out, the assailant would most likely get it away from me in 2.5 seconds and use it to his advantage.
However, with all of the truckers and possible recently-escaped-inmates that seem to frequent the honorable establishment that I work at (and honestly, it's a nice hotel as far as Super 8's go...it's clean and respectable), I feel better knowing that there is a small stash of weaponry within my grasp.

If anyone ever tried to hold the place up though, I wouldn't put up a fight. Is that bad? I would walk to the cash register, empty it into their hands, and call the police after I was very sure my life wasn't in danger. I'm not the heroic, run-and-try-to-get-help kind of person, I guess. Of course, I've never been in that situation, so maybe adrenaline would take over and I'd go all ju-jitsu on his butt.

Besides all of that, my life has progressed into a pleasant sort of busy-ness...the kind I really need. I have time to spend with my family at home, time to get my school work done on the computer, time to go to church and hang with friends, but I also am getting a relatively substantial weekly paycheck. God is probably smiling at the fact that I am having to stop chafing over being here for an indefinite period and just commit to His timing.

Today I took on the huge task of revamping my wall. After coming back from a year away, I decided that the wall on my side of the room wasn't really in my taste anymore. So I took down what seemed like hundreds of magazine pages, pictures, etc. (which doesn't seem too bad until you account for having to try and get particles of stick tack off of the wall...four per picture. My hand isn't working so well.) Now, I have a few framed pictures, and 3 little cork boards with ribbons across them (that I made, and they look darn good if I might add) for the random pictures and such.
I also switched out my bright summer bedset for a yellow fluffy one...probably in wishful thinking that there is going to be cool weather soon. Unfortunately, I don't have pillowcases for my pillows that match the new comforter, so I'm still going with the crazy colors on those.
It looks better...more mature and subdued. The whole "entire wall covered in cool stuff" wasn't working for me anymore.

Bekah

The more I seek You
The more I find You
The more I find You
The more I love You

I want to sit at Your feet
Drink from the cup in Your hand
Lay back against You and breath
Feel Your heart beat

This love is so deep
It's more than I can stand
I melt in Your peace
It's overwhelming

This is a song we sang at LW in 2007, and I really don't know who sings it in "real life". I suppose I could look it up, but I'm currently too lazy to do such, so I'll just leave it as is.
What I love about this song is that it paints such a beautiful picture of finding the Lord, of just resting in His presence and peace, and of having such a kinship with Him that you can just rest against Him and drink from the same cup.
'Tis a welcome thought.

I just finished watching Anne of Avonlea...that and Anne of Green Gables were some of my favorite movies growing up, and watching it this time, I remember why.
I think I want to move to Prince Edward Island...of course things are never quite as they are in the movies, and I'm sure it's a little more populated and modernized these days.
However, I'll just continue to think of it in it's Anne-esque state.

I have been on a domestic kick lately...I'm pretty sure it's mostly in the throes of attempting to keep myself occupied that I start to get handy in the kitchen. Well, not even just in the kitchen. I've been vaccuuming, washing dishes, and cleaning without prior nagging from the motherly unit, and knitting. I never knit unless I'm extremely bored, so there's a clue-in. But I've been keeping the family stocked in tortillas, new batches of Ranch dressing, and even full meals now and then. I wonder if you can grow an herb garden in the fall. I've never looked into it.

After noticing an alarming pattern (starting at about age 5, and never having grown out of it) of making an incredible mess on myself while cooking, I was ambitious enough last year to make myself a pink striped apron...I even bought a pattern for it.

Well, today my domesticity kicked in again, and I decided that I need a new one to switch the other one out with when I'm tired of it, and so broke out the sewing machine and found some blue striped material and made another. This one isn't bib-style, it's just one that ties around the upper waist, which is what needs to be covered, because the counter and stove hit me around the mid stomach, hence where I end up splashed with all manner of foods.
I have also had a long and brutal battle with cocoa. Since I started cooking at a young age, I have not been able to keep cocoa off of myself. I swear, it jumps. Especially when I'm wearing something that I reeealllly don't want to get dirty. The cocoa says to itself, "Hey, look at that nice, pastel colored shirt. Let's ruin it forever."
So, again, the necessity of aprons presented itself.

I applied for a job out at the Super 8 Hotel (or is it a MOtel?) today...not exactly my dream job right now, but if I get it, it will be something to keep me a little more busy than I have been. Basically trying to avoid all-out insanity, I'll work at the front desk all decked out in business-casual glory.

Celine Dion and "My Heart Will Go On" just started playing on my iTunes. Why do I even own this song??

"Whenever anything begins to disintegrate your life with Jesus Christ, turn to Him at once and ask Him to establish rest. Never allow anything to remain which is making the dis-peace. Take every element of disintegration as something to wrestle against, and not to suffer. Say--Lord, prove Thy consciousnes in me, and self-consciousness will go and He will be all in all Beward of allowing self-consciousness to continue because by slow degrees it will awaken self-pity, and self-pity is Satanic."
--Oswald Chambers

I guess I never thought of self-pity as anything particularly sinful. The other day, as I was letting a tear or two of pure self-pity run down my face, I opened My Utmost for His Highest, and the August 20 devotion contained the quote above. Obviously it was something I reallllly need to hear.
"But God, I don't know what to do next!"
Trust Me.
"But God, it's so hard to talk to my friends at school and still be here!"
Trust ME.
"But God, I've been trusting You for so long...I'm tired."
Trust. Me.

Yeah, you'd think I would get it through my thick skull. Any day now.

And currently I'm trying to juggle 4 different conversation on Facebook chat. I hate Facebook chat, but I forget that I'm signed on, and people talk to me. I'm helping 2 of my guy friends out with their girl problems. As if I'm a love guru. I find that guys come to me with their problems...and I'm not so good with the advice. Seriously, I stink at advice. I'm better with sarcasm and such. I should just tell them to become monks and leave it at that.

Trying to be productive is a million times more difficult than being constantly busy.

It's rare that I post within a couple days of the last post, but I really wanted to today.
I think my burst of sudden inspiration may spring from the fact that my bedroom floor is covered in the contents of several boxes that have been lurking in my closet for a while. Inspiration hit to go through and clean out my closet, I successfully demolished the towers of belongings, and now the rubble has yet to be cleared.
This always happens to me...I get on an organizational kick, and then my steam runs out right when everything looks the worst.
It's probably a good thing that I'm not an airplane mechanic or a brain surgeon. God help the world if I was.

I've been compulsively searching for things to fill my time these past several days. After being at Liberty then almost straight to camp, I have grown so accustomed to being always occupied and over-tired that now I really don't know what to do with myself. Hence the empty closet.
My sleeping pattern has also been a little disrupted. I've stayed up until 1-2 AM these past few days, and yet can't seem to sleep in after 8. I force myself to stay in bed because I can, but I might as well get up because there's no sleep involved in that while.
I should start getting up at 6 or something...there's so much more day, so much more peace and quiet to devote to the Lord. Of course, as things are, I don't know what I would do with more hours to the day.
I think this is the problem--having time is a novelty.
Maybe tomorrow I'll join the gym.

This time is different from previous summers...I feel like I left my heart in Maine, even though it's not like I fell in love over the summer or anything. There's just this pervasive thought of "What am I doing here?" that keeps on bugging me. I told my parents that it's not that I mind being home. I love home. I just didn't want to leave Maine.
But, the reality is, no one can be in two places at once.
I don't mind not going back to school. I've dealt with disappointment before, and I can deal with it this time.
The sad thing is what I am most afraid of are the questions.
"Where are you going to school now?"
"Why don't you take out student loans?"
"When are you going to get a job?"
"You're living at home?"
It's absolutely inconceivable that a young woman in the 21st Century might possibly not have a clue what she's doing. It's mind boggling that maybe I'm not interested in climbing the corporate ladder and making millions. It's irrational that I refuse to put myself in tens of thousands of dollars of debt in order to get an education.

What happened to the days when girls stayed at home and learned to embroider, churn butter, and clean between the floorboards until some snazzy gentleman or not-so-snazzy farm boy showed up on their doorstep and said, "Why hello, I like your face. We shall be married tomorrow." And that was that. Simple.

And the world spins madly on.