Traditions

Tim and I haven't started many new Christmas traditions since we've been married, but I already have several in mind for when our kids get a bit older.

For example, I saw these Santa bags at Pottery Barn Kids:



How cute are those? I hope to buy/make/somehow obtain one with each of our children's names on them and put the "Santa presents" in the bags each year. Presents from Mom (good gracious, that's me!) and Dad can go under the tree or elsewhere. I think it will be so fun for our little ones to unload their Santa bags each year. Can't wait!

Another thing I hope to do is make "reindeer food" (oatmeal and glitter) with the kids every year and sprinkle it on the front lawn each Christmas Eve to attract Santa's Reindeer to our home. Easy, cheap, and fun!



Also, I've recently heard about a book called "Elf on the Shelf."



I'm not sure how long this has been around, but I'd never heard of it as a kid. All my friends with kids say their kids just eat it up. Basically, the premise is that the elf sits in your house and watches the kids to determine if they are naughty or nice. If the kids are good, the elf reports back to Santa at night to fill him in on the kids good behavior, and the next morning the kids find the elf sitting in a different place. If the kids are naughty, the elf has nothing to report and doesn't move overnight. I think. Anyway, it sounds like a fun tradition that encourages good behavior around Christmas, so maybe we'll introduce Mr. Elf to the Bergeron household.

The one tradition Tim and I have made (and kept) is making each other a Christmas ornament each year. Before I go any further, allow me to say that I realize my husband is a saint and only about .05% of husbands would ever agree to such shenanigans. However, I love Christmas and Tim loves me, so he indulges me.

And so the tradition goes:

- By June of each year, I usually have an idea of what my ornament will look like.

- By November of each year, I've usually purchased everything I'll need to make said ornament (we have a $5 limit on supplies) and have begun constructing, if not finished the ornament.

- Around December 15th of each year, Tim remembers the ornament gig, freaks out because he has nothing in mind, and asks me if we can please skip the "ornament thing" this year. Each year, I say, "no."

- By December 20th, Tim has usually come up with something. He constructs his ornament from things found around the house in record time, and we exchange ornaments and hang them on the tree.

To date, we have 12 ornaments (we've each made six) and I LOVE putting them on the tree every year and remembering years past.

I started decorating cakes in 2005 and made my very first wedding cake that year. Tim made me the cutest wedding cake ornament, covered in glitter (which he insists will take any ornament from a "3" to a "6").

One year, we went on a camping trip in 30 degree weather and canoed down a river (while trying to avoid hitting icebergs with our paddles). That's really all I remember from the trip, since I've blocked the rest, but I made Tim a little clay ornament that year with the two of us in a canoe, covered in blankets and surrounded by icy water. Ah, memories.

We also have ornaments commemorating our graduations, our first house, and other funny inside jokes only the two of us understand.

We exchanged our 2010 ornaments a few nights ago, and I must say, Tim Bergeron is really stepping up his game. This is the ornament Tim made for me:



The glitter really kicks it up a few notches, don't you think?

This is the ornament I made for Tim:



Even though this is the third Christmas we've celebrated in our house, Tim's had December finals the last two years and he's been really busy studying right up until Christmas. This is the first year he's had a chance to put lights outside our house. As Tim (and the neighbors, and probably anyone in a two mile radius) would tell you, this was no easy feat! The whole incident is a story for another time, but needless to say, I was so thrilled to have lights on our house this year I made him an ornament to commemorate his hard work. (Notice the icicle lighting clip I glittered and affixed to the back of the ornament instead of a traditional ornament hook). 3 points for creativity!

How will we top these next year?

Noticing a Theme

Six months ago, my nightstand looked like this:



Tonight, it looks like this:



Hmmmmmm.

Shout-out Saturday

This week's Shout Out goes to my dad, who knows me SO well! My parents had a fun little getaway to San Antonio last weekend, and just LOOK at what my dad brought back for me...



Dad said he saw the apron in a boutique and it just "screamed Meagan." I would have to agree.

Seeing as how I've been listening to Christmas music for the last two weeks, I think this little gift came at the perfect time. I'm in love.

Natural Born Killers

Who could blame us for falling in love with this little guy?



As he's grown, he's only gotten cuter.



He has quirky, endearing qualities. He likes to sleep upside-down.



We often catch him standing behind his food bowl to eat:



But don't be fooled. While he appears all fluffy and snuggly...



...In reality, this dog is a natural born killer. Just look what he did to the duck.

Shout-out Saturday

Okay, I guess "Shout-out Saturday" isn't really a "thing," but I'm thinking I'm going to make it my "thing." Kind of like "Wordless Wednesday" and other things people do on their blogs.

So, my very first "Shout-out Saturday" blog is dedicated to the "20 Somethings" (so many quotes) of Fielder Road Baptist Church.

The "20 Somethings" ministry includes college, career, and couples... basically, people in all stages of their twenties. Last weekend, the ministry put on "Date Night- On the Line," a night out for couples in their twenties... and early thirties.

Tim and I were on the committee that planned the event, and I have to say, we had just as much fun planning it as we actually did attending.

"Date Night- On the Line" consisted of three of my very favorite things- line dancing, a chili cook-off, and a pie contest. When you start with three of life's staples, how could things go wrong?

The girls on the committee worked together on the decorations, and I think they did a fantastic job on a very small budget. Look what we did with a few hay bales and some bandanas:



I wish I had a picture of the tables, because they were really cute, too. We used paisley tablecloths, and used cowboy boots and mason jars (filled with pinto beans and candles) as centerpieces.

We also set up a fun photo area where couples could capture memories from the evening. Just look at Robby and Marissa... typical!



The huge Texas Star was borrowed from a neighbor, and we used Evan to help us hang it. We safely assumed he would be the tallest person in attendance and didn't want him banging his head while he was attempting to boot scoot.



We brought in a fun line dancing instructor from Waco, asked couples to bring their best chili and/or pie (which served as dinner and dessert for the affair), borrowed lots of fabulous decorations from some generous church members, and badda boom, badda bing, had all we needed for a fantastic evening.

We kicked-off the evening with the chili tasting.



Everyone came up with fun names for their dishes (ex: The Man Eater, Texas Tornado, etc).



Our Senior Pastor and Worship Pastor judged the chili and handed out some funny awards, which the guys on the committee came up with.

James' "Man Eater" chili won "The Assassin" award (please take note of the plunger/battle ax combination).



Nate won the "Crazy Scientist" award for his chili, which had the most obscure ingredient (Dr. Pepper). Nate just couldn't wait until he got home to play with his prize.



The guys even came up with award called "The Baby Maker." I didn't exactly understand the connection between baby making and chili, but since guys seem to have an incomprehensible love for all food containing beans, I figured there are some things I'll just never understand and let that one go.

After the chili feast, we dug into the delicious pie and cobbler. The Bourbon Pecan Pie took home the grand prize, and might I just say, it deserved all the acclaim it won, and then some. Stephen said he only used half the bourbon the recipe called for (we are baptists, after all). Oh. my. goodness. That was some pie! This reminds me, I still need to get the recipe from the Berrys...



After the chili and the pie (and the cornbread, and the fritos, and the cheese, and the sour cream), we got right down to dancing. We did line dancing, two stepping, five stepping, and all kinds of other stepping. Note: My boots are cute, but you really can't dance in them for more than a few hours without causing some permanent damage to the balls of your feet.



To say that Tim got into the dancing would be an understatement. I believe he kept his thumbs hooked in his belt loops almost the entire time. You learn a lot about a person when you watch them dance. It was fun to watch everyone throw away their inhibitions and just have a good time.

We met some really fun new couples that evening and enjoyed hanging out with the McGowens and the Myers, from our small group (we missed you, Hunters!)



Since we knew what a fun event this was going to be, we invited our friends Jason and Stephanie (who just happen to live two doors down from us) to join us. Normally, when you bring new friends into a situation with other friends, you expect to spend most of the time hanging out with the new friends and introducing them to other people. That wasn't the case at "Date Night." Everyone really reached out to Jason and Stephanie, and every time I turned around they were chatting with a new couple. I was so impressed (although not surprised) with how friendly and kind everyone was to our visitors.

I don't think the evening could have turned out any better. Our creative committee did a great job pulling things together, and everyone who attended seemed to really enjoy the event and the company. The evening reminded me of how blessed I am to be a part of our church family- full of truly wonderful people who love the Lord and love us (which I still can't figure out sometimes). So, shout out to our church family and all the twenty-somethings who bless us in more ways than we can count!

Seeing is Believing?

"They" say seeing is believing. I'm not sure how true that really is.

A few months ago, I saw this:



I didn't really believe it. Then, I saw this



I was still in disbelief, but not quite such disbelief that I was above freaking out. I totally freaked out. If your doctor tells you that it will most likely take you between six and twelve months to get pregnant after getting off of birth control, you should look him straight in the face and call him out for the liar he is. I wish I had. I digress.

In light of the new evidence of this thing I still didn't believe, I had to come clean to my precious husband. Immediately. He got home from work, walked into the closet to change his clothes, and I broke the (unbelievable) news. It went like this.

After processing the news for a few minutes (and looking at TWO positive pregnancy tests), doubting Thomas decided he didn't believe it either. Which resulted in this:



Wow. I made another appointment to see the aforementioned liar (doctor) and he confirmed the still unbelievable news. If all goes as planned, I will hold my firstborn child in April. Wow.

I've attempted to digest this new piece of information over the last few months (between sleeping and vomiting), and I still haven't quite come to terms with all of it. Everyone insisted that once we had a sonogram, things would become much more real. Well, last week was our first appointment with the obstetrician. I filled out more paperwork than I did when I purchased my first car...



... and then they whisked us back into an exam room, squirted some cold, mystery gel all over my abdomen, and we saw this:



Unbelievable.

After the appointment, it took an orange cranberry muffin and a freshly squeezed glass of orange juice from Panera to snap be back into reality.



(Really, I just felt like I deserved a fresh muffin after being violated in so many different ways at that dang appointment). Again, I digress.

Perhaps it's not so much a matter of believing, as it is a matter of comprehending. I simply can't comprehend that there is a living, breathing, inch-long human being, (with functioning organs) alive and growing inside of me, right below that little bulge that has recently prevented me from buttoning my pants. How? How? How? Perhaps if it really were comprehensible, it wouldn't be a miracle.

Everyone says (the same "everyone" that assured me the sonogram would bring it all home) that once I feel this baby move for the first time, it will all become real.

Maybe.

Still, I don't believe it...

Ugly Sin.

I love sleeping in on Saturday mornings. That feeling of waking up whenever you wake up. Bliss.

I love spontaneous dinners with my husband. Last night we were curled up on the couch and I just couldn't bring myself to get up and throw food together. We piled in his truck, drove through the pouring rain and enjoyed a burger and fries while we watched the rain fall outside. Just the two of us. Bliss.

I love Hobby Lobby. I don't presume to understand much about heaven, but it's hard for me to picture heaven being much different than Hobby Lobby. I love shopping for fall decorations in April and Christmas decorations in June. I love seeing something I never would have come in looking for but absolutely have to have and then having a few "extra" dollars to make it my own. Bliss.

There are so many things I love about my life. And as difficult as it is for me to admit, so many of these things seem like they could be easily complicated. By a baby.

Sometimes you see things coming in life, and sometimes they hit you without you even realizing they were coming your way. The "baby deal" is a bit of both for me. Tim and I have been married for six and a half years, we have a house, decent jobs, and money in savings. We have enjoyed a lot of really great things as a couple and have come a long way as husband and wife. If one were to make a checklist as far as the "baby thing" goes, we would come out okay. We have been preparing for this since we got married. Yet, somehow, I can hardly believe it's about that time. Why, why, why such resistance after such planning and preparation?

I've thought long and hard about why I feel so prepared yet hesitant. The root of everything I discovered was fear. Mixed with a few good dashes of selfishness. But mostly fear.

I'm afraid of losing control of my body while I'm pregnant. I'm afraid of stretch marks and everything else that comes with pregnancy that I hesitate to mention on a blog. I'm afraid of gaining a lot of weight and having trouble losing it. I'm afraid of labor. I'm afraid of living on a tight budget. I'm afraid of not being able to financially care for a baby if something unexpected happens. I'm afraid of being tired all the time. I don't want to wake up at all hours of the night on someone else's terms. I don't want to be poor. I want to go out to eat with my husband when I want to. I want to have time to wash my hair daily. I want to take vacations when I want to. I want freedom. I want flexibility. I want control.

I'm afraid. I'm afraid. I'm afraid. I want. I want. I want. It's much uglier on paper than it is in my head. Either way, it's ugly.

The fact of the matter is that in the life of a Christian, there is no place for selfishness and there is no place for fear. Selfishness reflects the belief that my plans and desires for my life are better than what God has in mind for me. Fear demonstrates that I don't believe God will meet my needs.

As I stood in church on Sunday, the weight of my hypocrisy came crashing down on top of me. Ironically enough, it was the first time in many months that I saw my fear for what it really is. A sin.

I stood praising God for His provision in my life, and repenting over and over for the fear I have let rule me. I prayed, "Lord, forgive me for every moment my thoughts and actions have suggested that you are not enough for me, or that you will leave any one of my needs unmet."

I shutter when I think of the blessings I have missed out on in the past and continue to miss out on because I am so resistant to relinquish control of my life. I am sacrificing God's best for something that is simply "good enough," just because I won't release what I'm holding in my hands.

If God's plan for my life in the not-too-distant future involves bags under my eyes, stretch marks, drool, puke and stinky diapers, then I absolutely believe those things hold a bigger blessing than what I'm holding now.

*** Update: Just 43 days after writing this post, I took a positive pregnancy test. ***

Poetry

I gave up writing poetry sometime during junior high. My curse is that I really do think I have a poet's soul, I just lack poetic expression. Somewhere along the line, either my limited vocabulary or my inability to create rhythm and emphasis or some combination of the two leave me unable to succinctly express myself. Alas, I am a rambler. Bless Summer Witherington, my high school BFF. With the patience of Job, she spent more of her time in high school sitting at Starbucks listening to me ramble than she did sleeping- just talking things out until I had worked them out in my mind. Sigh.

Anyway, this cursed lack of poetic expression (couple with the fact that I am a total sucker for a good ballad- hello, Bryan Adams!) lead me to find song lyrics totally captivating. I am amazed by the way lyrics say so much by saying so little. They say exactly what I'm thinking, but so much better than I ever could.

Indulge me for a moment and allow me to share some lyrics I'm currently swooning over. The whole song is good, but the chorus gets me every time...

"Unredeemed" by Selah

Life breaks and falls apart
But we know these are
Places where grace is soon to be
so amazing
It may be unfulfilled
It may be unrestored
But when anything that's shattered is laid before the Lord
Just watch and see
It will not be unredeemed

Wow. I just couldn't say it better. The older I get, the more experiences fall short of my expectations, the more people break promises, the more mistakes I make, the more difficulties I face, the more I know this to be true.

When situations, relationships, etc. aren't restored, they are still redeemed. Every experience we walk through as Christians is redeemed. It has redeeming value, because it sheds even more light on how far we have fallen, how sufficient God's grace is, and how we should respond to that.

I love it.

Lifelong Learning

I'll never forget my first day of college. I walked into my very first class (college algebra) at Southwest Texas State University, and my professor immediately made me cringe. She was an older, overweight, white-haired lady in a floral print dress. She looked like the kind of lady that wears natural deodorant and enjoys the company of cats. I digress. What really turned me off was what she said when she introduced herself. Something about world travel, blah, blah, blah, loving math, barf, barf, barf, and then the zinger... "I believe in lifelong learning." She was one of those . An academic. My immediate response, "Get over yourself, lady."

Only a few years later, I'm not too much older but apparently a bit wiser, because I see the value in her approach. Just because you're out of school doesn't mean you should stop learning. No matter that all that knowledge isn't dropped in your lap at 7:30am each morning in the form of an AP Economics book. Life after graduation generally requires you go out and explore things on your own, which is quite rewarding. On top of just life experiences, I've tried to identify a few specific skills I'd like to learn. Since graduation I've learned to sew. Learning to play the piano is also on my list, but I'm not quite there yet.

Anyway, this week I decided to tackle a new endeavor. I want to learn the military alphabet. I've always been amazed by the way troops communicate with each other. "Yes, it's Sergeant Mark Smith. That's Mike, Alpha, Romeo, Kilo..." They just rattle it off without any thought. Too. cool.

My co-workers, ever supporting and encouraging, made me an elementary school style banner to hang in my office. Remember the poster above the chalkboard with a cursive "A" and then the picture of an apple, then a "B" with a balloon? This is like that. But better. Also, they made me note cards to practice with and presented them to me tied up with a cute little yellow ribbon. It's only been a day, but I'm slowly getting better. "P" through "V" are rough, but I'm getting there.


Alpha
Bravo
Charlie
Delta
Echo
Foxtrot
G... g.... g... Golf
Hotel
India
Juliet
Kilo
Lima (Which my lovely co-worker Linda pronounces like the bean, not the city). It makes me giggle every time.
Mike
November (my personal favorite because it's my favorite month)
Oscar
P... P..... ugh. Let me come back to that one.
Quebec
Romeo
S. Ugh. I'll come back to that one, too.
Tango
U. Crap.
Victor
Whiskey
X-Ray
Yuma?
Zulu

Okay, so P,S,U,and potentially Y still need some work. Still, how's that for lifelong learning?




Sierra. S is Sierra.

I Am Second

Our student ministry just completed a series called, "I Am Second," a spin-off/extension of the www.iamsecond.org website. We watched some of the videos featured on the website and discussed the struggles and faith in the individuals' testimonies.

Part of the challenge at the end of the series was for each student to write a brief version of their own "I Am Second" story. I wrote one as well, and our group shared them this morning. Here is my story.

I Am Second

I grew up in seven different states. My dad had a great career, but it meant that we moved every few years. As a result, I always sensed the importance of making the most of what was happening in a moment, knowing nothing lasts forever. I learned early on that everything in life is temporary, and it made me appreciate so much about the world. I am thrilled by little things in life.

I was raised in a Christian home and can’t even remember a specific time when I “accepted Christ.” I’ve trusted Him for as long as I can remember. Every time we moved, we immediately started looking for a new church. We attended several different denominations of church- everything from Baptist to Assemblies of God. My parents always said that it didn’t matter what the church was called, as long as they preached the truth inside.

Right before I started Jr. High we moved to Chicago and I started into a new youth group. My youth pastor had a love for Christ like no one I’d ever met before, and he challenged us to make our faith our own. I started digging into God’s Word. As a junior higher, I would wake up at 5:30 in the morning (voluntarily!) just to spend time reading my Bible before my day began. Between the ages of twelve and thirteen, I experienced a period of huge spiritual growth. I took hold of what Christ did for me and how I am called to respond to that. My life hasn’t been the same since.

God has never let me wander far before He reminds me that I am His and He is with me. Although I had a charmed childhood, I have lived through a lot in my short adult life. I’ve grieved the loss of loved ones, sent a husband off to war, and tasted disappointment so bitter that I couldn’t imagine ever feeling genuine happiness again. All along, I leaned on my faith- whether it meant limping along or simply collapsing. The Lord is the One and Only thing I can always turn to. He will never fail me, and He will always be everything I need. In the deepest part of my heart, I believe that He works all things together for my good. I love my God.

I don’t have any really great talents, and there isn’t a specific thing that I can say God created me to do. All I know is that He has a purpose for me, and that He’ll use me in spite of the fact that I’m not the prettiest, smartest, funniest, or best at anything I attempt. I know that as long as I’m breathing, He’s not finished with me yet.