Posts made in October, 2009

Heaven is our Hope

Posted by Caroline on Oct 15, 2009 in The Backpack | 0 comments

Chapter 10

Monday I had an epiphany that changed my entire week.  This is the week of fall break!

With the hope that Friday would soon come, I stayed up a little later, played a little harder, procrastinated a little more, and had a little more fun.  I did all the things I normally wish I had time for—Pi Phi service, extra float hours, went running, read for fun, hung out at B&N, skipped some homework and maybe even a class. I knew if I got behind I had 3 wonderful days to catch up.

I took this philosophy a little too far and found myself dashing to the library at midnight on Wednesday night to finish a Photoshop tutorial.   The only thing the tutorial taught was that I need a personal tutor.  Lesson learned nonetheless.

Last night it was okay rushing to get things done because I knew today would be fall break.  And in the big picture, today it’s okay to sacrifice a little more, run a little faster then rest a little longer, give a little more, and finish stronger because heaven is on its way.

Though I desire to jump ahead to the streets of gold and singing all day, it’s necessary to remain.  Paul understands– Philippians 1:23.  Yet I remain here with joy.

Peter speaks a little encouragement:  Though you have not seen Him, you love Him.  Though you do not now see Him, you believe in Him and rejoice with joy that is inexpressible and filled with glory.  1 Peter 1:8.

A little hope. with some excitement too.

Amen.

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Salute to my Boyfriend and Best Friend

Posted by Caroline on Oct 10, 2009 in journey to marriage | 0 comments

The following is woven into every other chapter of my story as of
late.  I'm grateful.

Here’s why Mr. Philip Clayton Rothschild, Jr. is more than great.

1. He has enough confidence to wear red baller shoes while carrying a 30.4-ounce bag of Sour Patch to class.

2.  He’s innovative and creative.  Who else builds arcade machines and has a garden?

3.  Master of small talk.  You wouldn’t ever know he wasn’t a fan.

4.  In all honesty, he’s the smartest person I know.  Articulate; problem solver; studious, yet doesn’t even have to be studious to do well.

5.  Clayton came up with this brilliant idea and then taught it to me:  say what you think.  A genius.

6.  Can change a tire in a record 22 minutes.

7.  Has a goofy side that makes me blush when he reverts to child mode in WalMart or refuses to take off his helmet after biking.

8.  Loves coffee shops, slow afternoons, and conversations.

9.  Honest and transparent which displays humility and fosters friendship and trust.

10. When I’m being ridiculous, he teases me just enough to snap me out of it.  Some times it’s just too difficult to not laugh.

11. If you say the word gospel, his mind starts to race and passion immediately springs forth.

12.  He types with only his middle and index fingers.  This dumbfounds me.

13. I call him Turtle because he’s insanely slow getting out the door.  He slows my life down.  In a good way.

14. I love that instead of taking picture he records videos.  His memories are going to be vivid.  Slightly jealous.

15. Whether there’s a kid in the car next to us at a stoplight or sitting at the table next to us in a restaurant, Clayton grabs their attention and makes them laugh.  I laugh too.

16.  He can fix anything. And here’s the kicker: he is willing to fix anything.

17. He is blast.  Like a sonic blast.  Mmmm.  Oh, and he’ll go to Sonic even when it’s just for me.

18.  He can eat the same thing every day.  This may not be a salute-worthy compliment, but it’s a distinct characteristic.  A #1 with Dr. Pepper from Whataburger and a regular fettuccine from Fazoli’s.  Same thing every time.

19. Whenever I turn on our TV it’s set to cartoons because he’ll come over and watch SpongeBob.  It’s a little cute.

20.  This is my favorite:  I always ask him why he’s smiling, and he says he’s not.  His face rests in a pleasant disposition.  It’s welcoming.

This is Clayton.  He’s great and my favorite.  Wish him a happy birthday today.

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Spills.

Posted by Caroline on Oct 7, 2009 in Amazing Grace | 0 comments

[I can justify writing now because dinner is simmering on the stove.  However, don’t be deceived.  Simmering does much more justice than my dumping of the Voila! bag from the frozen aisle deserves.  I say simmering, but it’s more like waiting while magic happens.]

Chapter 9

Spills are my thing.

This morning I knocked my cup of water all over the table right after I made oatmeal in a bowl that I quickly learned had a crack.  I dropped baby Robert’s 1^st birthday cake in the line at Chuck E. Cheese.  Thankfully he was the age where it’s still cute to let the baby touch the cake, so no one ate it anyway.  I was humiliated around age ten when I dropped a plate at a buffet and then freshman year my tray went flying in Penland dining hall.  The only positive was a few boys were able to practice their chivalry.  Here’s why I tell you this:  Today I spilt my coffee in my yellow (but now browning) backpack.  Yes, again. Third time.  And the last time.

My coffee really just wanted a final kick because tomorrow my coffee will not longer be acquainted with my backpack.  My friend Kyle came up with a contraption that is a cup holder for my bike.  Details to come and a lack of disasters to follow.

The only time I justify a spill is when there simply isn’t enough room to hold everything in.  I think of a waterfall spilling over a cliff with power because the river cannot just simply stop at the edge.  This summer I climbed a waterfall in Costa Rica, and the water crashing down was like a giant spill covering me.  Or, maybe a justified spill is when a surprise has to burst out because of built up excitement.  Or, a spill can be the smile seeps out when you know it’s not appropriate to laugh.  Spills happen.

I want to spill over Jesus.  Overflow.  With intention, yes, but also with unguarded passion that spills forth without thought.  Like a waterfall that cannot be stopped.

May my lips overflow with praise, for you teach me your decrees. Psalm 119:171

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Recognizing our Role Models

Posted by Caroline on Oct 4, 2009 in Amazing Grace, Family | 0 comments

While I did lose count of the chapters in this story, I don’t want to lose sight that each part of my story is traced back to the King who narrates my being.   Sure, I am the fingers typing away, but remember I retell a story that is the heavenly Author’s.  Call me His scribe.

I just recounted.  This is chapter 8.  So welcome back.

Chapter 8

You must be caught up on some trivial plot development in this story. Tonight I had a pizza party with the people I call my family here in Texas.  Friday I spray-painted my hair black and danced like crazy at a party where they prayed at the beginning, middle, and end.  I love Baylor, but now my shower is stained black from my hair dye.  I think the reason is just to remind me of my sillyness.   Today I bashfully (with a tinge of respect for his lack of inhibition) watched Clayton test every pillow in Kohl’s to ensure he brought the perfect one.  I ate a blueberry pancake at ihop at midnight last night.  It rained all day, and now my TOMS are soaked for a week.  And, of course, I’ve had many a cups of coffee.

Plot development: Check.

Now a bit of character development. Shaping. Molding. Sifting. Disciplining. Eye-Opening.  Heart Renewing.

Setting:  I’m going to zoom into a circle of three chairs from tonight.  Warning:  There’s no climax.  No surprise.  It’s merely a small group of college students with a sheet to facilitate discussion.  We have one older adult leader in the Leadership Community and we invited him to our group (Note: there are now four chairs).

The man marked with humility sat down in our group, and by the end of the 40 minutes, he calmly had reminded us of the faithfulness of Jesus Christ and the genuine, lasting satisfaction of knowing this Redeemer.  He shared of tragedy.  Of unexpected losses.  Of life-changes.  He flipped through the worn pages of his Bible as if he’d spent hours upon each page of what I am again reminded to look freshly upon as THE Word of God.

He spoke of doing anything in our own strength as pride with a sobering reality.

He spoke of living a life full of gentleness and patience and showed it by merely being present.

He spoke of praying what you desire to desire.

And now I have a new glimpse of what I desire:  Humility.  Tonight the word humility has been stuck in my mind.  What does it look like?

I found an answer pretty quickly:  Dr. Robert Bernard Beach, Sr.—my Granddaddy.  He lives just across town from the house I’ll always call home in Springfield.  This man is not only well-read enough to help my sister write papers over books she hasn’t read, he can rattle off Cardinal’s baseball statistics to keep up with the fanatic fan I am proud to call a brother of mine.

Granddaddy and I would go to McDonald’s every Wednesday when I was in pre-school, and some of my earliest memories are swinging my legs in these concave, orange Missouri State chairs outside of his office.

He gives with unwavering selflessness:  Time, Piano Lessons, Rides, my beloved Baylor University, Wisdom, an Example.  He worries a bit, I’ll admit, but it’s always about someone else.

That’s humility.

I grant Granddaddy bragging rights for himself all day long.  However, I know he won’t use them.  Grandmother will have to brag for him (though I think she already does).

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21st Birthday

Posted by Caroline on Oct 1, 2009 in The Backpack | 0 comments

Today is a long-awaited day for 3 reasons:

1.  Today music will sing again from my Mac just like the Pat Neff Bells ring as I scurry to class. I have been deprived of music for over a week because Pandora put a limit on obsessive listeners like me. I hit my 40 hour maximum sometime last week, and because I also lost my iTunes, I tell a sad story of not having had music. I have been experiencing withdrawals from my calming Beethoven station that enhances my attempted studious nature and my Keith Urban station that makes me love the country a bit more (though I’ve never even ridden a tractor or know anyone I would consider a member of the Red Neck club but I do love America, so I am a qualified country listener). The first of the month equals Pandora is back.

2. Secondly, I only have to do one push-up today. Earlier last month I got motivated and committed to doing a push-up for the date. This means on the September 5th, I did 5 push-ups.  At the beginning of September, 6,7,and 8 push-ups were barable. However, last week I was humbled as I had to scatter my push-ups through chapters of Pride and Prejudice. At the end of each chapter I would do 5, because how could I possible do 30 at once when I did 29 the night before? Today I will do my push-ups with confidence and be victorious—all one of them. Maybe by Halloween I will be strong enough to finish them in one setting. Until then, one is fine with me.

3. Oh, and reason number 3: I can legally buy alcohol, and therefore, today I’m going to hit up Happy Hour and go crazy—Sonic-style. I might even get a large Diet Coke with Vanilla (every other day I only get a medium). Big day I’d say.

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