Recognized

It happened again this weekend. I was recognized by a complete stranger, not for who I am, but for who my parents are.

For most of my life I have been irritated by this situation. I felt like people didn't know who I was, they just assumed they knew me because they knew my parents. I wasn't seen as me but as my parents' daughter. If my face wasn't recognized, my last name would be. For many years I would introduce myself just by my first name and only say my last name if someone specifically asked. (I still find myself doing that but now I think it's because Beth is easier to remember than Warkentin.)

I used to think this recognition thing would only happen in my hometown where my parents are well known. Boy was I wrong.

About 15 years ago, I was sitting in the airport terminal waiting for my flight out of LAX to Fresno when a couple, who looked about my parents'  age, approached me and said those fateful words, "Excuse us but are you Don and Janet's daughter?"

"Uh, yes..." I said very hesitantly, "Who are you?"

"Oh we're (names?). We went to high school with your parents! We knew they got married. We didn't know if they had kids or how old you would be but you look just like them so we were sure you were their daughter!" said the wife. I was too shocked to even hear their names.

"Really?!?! You could tell that from all the way across the terminal?!" I exclaimed.

"Well, ya. We were pretty sure but we looked at the passenger list to double check.  He's a pilot," she explained, pointing to her husband, "so he went over to the desk at the gate and glanced at the list. We saw you're last name and then we knew for sure!"

I was stunned. Absolutely stunned that two strangers, who didn't even know I had been born, could spot me from across a crowded airport and identify me as my parents' daughter. Incredible. I knew then that there was no denying it, I look just like them. I may as well embrace it.

In January I cut 8 inches off my hair and for the first time since infancy my hair was shorter than my mom's. Right after I got my hair cut, I went to my parents' house and was sitting across the table from my dad when he suddenly looked up from the newspaper and said, "You're beautiful." This statement immediately made me suspicious because all my life he has made it a point to compliment my character instead of my appearance. Then it hit me. I squinted my eyes, tilted my head, and said accusingly, "I look just like mom, don't I?" Yep. Spitting image. I could feel it. I wasn't upset though. I just laughed and smiled.

I've been recognized by strangers many times since that day in the airport and each time I'm surprised by it. But each time I'm able to embrace it a little more and understand a little more deeply than it's a gift to have such an amazing heritage. I'm happy to be a Warkentin and am proud to be known as Don and Janet's daughter.

Wow. I must be growing up. ;)

The day my mom offered to sleep with my teacher

My parents let me choose which high school I went to, Immanuel or Dinuba, and when I chose Dinuba High I have a feeling that's when her dream took one step closer to becoming a reality. She would have to be patient and wait for the most opportune moment but she was no stranger to things taking awhile. She believed good things come to those who wait. She would be ready when the time was right. She didn't need to practice her line. It was perfect just as it was. 

And oh how her patience paid off! 

It was my junior year of high school. My mom and I were at Back to School Night. We had visited several classrooms and were approaching my math teacher's room when it happened. She excitedly grabbed my arm and blurted out the line I will forever remember, "You want me to sleep with your teacher so you can get an A?!?" 

Her time had come, the moment was perfect, she had delivered the line like a pro, and I wanted to wash out my ears with soap. "Ahhhhh!!! Noooo!!!", I said in protest! She didn't really hear me because she was reveling in the shear genius of her idea. 

How could my mom suddenly turn into the kind of person that would make such an offer?!? 

"Well", she said, "Anything for my kids!" This line was followed by hysterical laughter lasting several minutes. She was so amused by my adverse reaction to her offer to sleep with my teacher that she could hardly contain her laughter. 

When we walked in the room, I told my teacher what my mom had just said. (I'm such a tattle tail.) Upon hearing the offer, he looked at my mom with hope in his eyes but then shook his head and said,"I don't give away A's.", then his face brightened, as he exclaimed, "But I'll still sleep with you!"

OMG!!! My parents were out of control!!! 

I earned my own A by doing my homework and acing the tests, thank you very much! But having my dad for a math teacher sure made for memorable moments!

Congratulations on over 41 years of not only being an amazing teacher but being an incredibly honorable man! I love you Dad and I'm so proud to be your daughter...most of the time. :)

Joni and Friends Family Retreat 2014

I was so very excited when I signed up to be a Short Term Missionary (STM) at the Central California Joni and Friends Family Retreat and then came the week that almost knocked me out...

I started the week feeling nervous because of all the unknowns. Then I started feeling cocky when I was asked to explain different disabilities and how to listen and learn from the campers. Next thing I know, I'm crushed. My pride is drained. My attitude is terrible. I hate disabilities. (That feeling has reared it's ugly head only about 5 times in my life.) I was in the depths of despair and felt like I had been swallowed and deserved to stay there. I didn't know what to do or how to handle anything. Everyone around me was doing amazing work and I was knocked off the pedestal I had put myself on. It was as though I'd been competing with amateurs and always winning by a landslide and now I'd come to the Olympics where everyone was at least as good or better than me at this sport. I was blown away by the caliber of the athletes and the ease with which they were kicking my ass. I was no longer the expert, gold medal favorite, gifted, talented, saint who was the standard, the example for everyone to follow. I was ordinary. common. average. I was everything I always said I wanted to be. But when it actually happened, I was devastated, shocked, and completely uncomfortable. I wanted to leave and never look back. 

God had a much better plan, of course. He used my weakened state, my brokenness, my sorrow to help me see Him, depend on Him, & acknowledge Him in all things. He was my strength when I was weak. He was my comforter. He was my guide. He showed me that I was still finding my identity in being a sibling instead of finding my identity in Him alone. In Christ alone, I place my trust.

God is not satisfied with saving me, helping me grow, and then putting me on cruise control. His love is RELENTLESS. He showed me this week that He will never stop showing me how to depend on Him. He is faithful to allow pain to point me to Him.

After being home for about 24 hours, I realized I hope to go back next year. :)

the hills were the best

woohoo!
i like this picture simply because i look skinny :)

and up the next hill we go!
God gave me superhuman strength to push the wheelchair and explore the entire camp with Maddie.

Maddie and I having a bonding moment

She loved the therapy dogs that came to visit us at camp.

Happy Birthday Mom!!!

I was born on Halloween, my dad on Thanksgiving, and my mom was born on April Fool's Day. Yep, it's true.

The irony oozes from these dates we entered the world because I don't like candy, scary, or strangers, my dad doesn't like to be told by the calendar when to express gratitude, and my mom is no fool. 

No matter how old she gets, she remains wise beyond her years and young at heart. Her sense of humor breaks the rules of survival. Her love runs deep. Her joy is genuine. And her servant's heart is bigger than anyone's I've ever known. 

She can see the positive in absolutely anything, except in using her sewing scissors to cut plastic tags off clothes. (Don't do that. She will say your name is mud.) She can remember everything about me, except my name. She called me Na-Beth and Precious Girl a lot. Close enough. She can make 4 dozen cookies, bake 12 dozen zwiebach, and do 5 loads of laundry before I wake up in the morning. And sewing is like breathing to her. She has made me countless shirts, shorts, skirts, and the best twirl dresses a girl could dream of.

She has been in the same two Bible Study groups for over 30 years. She is an amazing friend, loyal and true.

She loves me more than I can even understand or fathom. And oh am I ever grateful that she's my mom.

Happy April Fool's Day Birthday Mom!!!!!!! I love you. You don't look a day over 64. :)

p.s. i typed this in the largest font just for you. ;)

Support Letter Ethics

It's hard for me to ask for help. Sometimes it feels like I'm allergic to it. I forget that it's even an option. I don't drink milk and I don't ask for help.

I'm happy to pour you a glass of milk, do you a favor, or even give you something of mine. Why not? It doesn't belong to me anyway and people are more important than things, right? Sure! It's easy for me to do but not easy for me to accept from others.

Enter stage right: my Easter break missions trip      

Enter stage left: the support letter

I'm in the middle of these two characters and I'm not sure what my next line is...or if this is a show down or a family reunion.

The basic contents of a typical support letter consist of a greeting, brief reminder of who the person is that's writing the letter, a description of a short term (week-10 days) or long term (months, years, lifetime) mission project or trip of some sort, and the many ways in which you can "support" the person writing the letter. You can just commit to praying for the person (silver level). You can pray and give a meager amount (gold level). Or you can pray and fill in your own extremely generous amount of money on the blank line (platinum level). If you are super holy, you will give sacrificially.

As you may have gathered already, to my ears, these letters often read like holy sales pitches, that might as well include the line "And that's not all! Give now and we'll throw in a surprise blessing!" The motivation to give then seems to come from guilt, obligation, or fear of looking unsupportive. And the letter feeling more like a test of friendship or measure of commitment to a relationship rather than a way to ask for help in a healthy way.

The issue is further complicated for me when financial support is requested by someone who doesn't seem like he needs that type of support. A grossly exaggerated example would be if Bill Gates asked me to help pay for his flight to Africa where he will be helping eradicate malaria. He doesn't need me to help him with his travel expenses but that doesn't take away from the worthiness and nobility of the cause.

So today, I posed this question to several people that I trust, "How do you feel about people asking for financial support to go on a missions trip they can totally afford to pay for themselves?"

I got so many good answers and such good feedback. I was reminded of how much priceless support I already have everyday.  I feel much better about just taking  breath and sharing what I'm going to do over spring break. So here's the scoop...

On April 13th, I will embark on what could be the best week of my life. Or it could be just like my other camp experiences, a mixture of fun, awkward and disappointment with a splash of life changing miracle. Or I might just hate it. I probably won't know until it's over on April 18th.

I'm going to the Central California Joni and Friends Family Retreat as a Short Term Missionary (STM). It's considered a mission trip because I'll be a volunteer matched up with a camper with a disability and will be his/her support person all week. I don't think I'll find out who I'm matched with until I get there. It could be a child or adult of any age and could even be a sibling of someone with a disability. All I know is that I've been wanting to do this for years! It's bucket list material. An absolute dream.

Asking people for money to fund the experience feels kinda like asking for money to go to Disneyland! I keep mulling over and over and over this question of to ask or not to ask for support. The conclusion I keep wanting to come to is no. I should pay for it myself, go about writing about my experience, and soaking in all that God has for me that week. And keep it all to myself. Ugh. That's where I keep getting stuck. Keeping it all to myself doesn't sit right with me this time. Why is that? I'm not exactly sure yet. I know part of the problem goes back to the allergy to asking for help but is there more to it than that? When does it become a team effort, in a healthy way? I don't want to automatically reject the idea of asking for support if there's some value in it that I don't recognize.

Then I go back to not wanting to talk about money. I'm no Bill Gates but at the same time I'm not worried about money either.

Then my friend Karisa said this: "You're about to spend a week helping someone else. Maybe God wants you to get a glimpse of what it feels like for your partner to ask you for help. They might struggle with that."

She got me there.

But then I was reminded of one of my core beliefs. I never want to take a task away from someone that he can do for himself, if by doing so I deprive him of his independence, strip him of his dignity, or negate his abilities. It's not respectful or kind to withhold patience.

I have the ability to fund the trip myself and I intend to do so. I do need help in other areas though and it's in those areas that I can feel good about asking for help.

Pray for me. Write me if you're excited with me. Learn more about Joni and Friends. Help me find a new swimsuit that I'm not embarrassed to be seen in (that'll be a miracle). Ask me how it went. Listen to my stories. Tell me your stories. Praise the Lord with me. Tell people you know about Joni and Friends and you may inspire someone else to be involved in missions. Who knows, one day you may even get a support letter from that person. ;)

After much debate, I realized that, for me, it all comes down to these two desires:

1. I want everyone to know about Joni and Friends Family Retreats so they can benefit from them.

2. I'd like to shout from the roof tops, "Hey Everybody! I get to fulfill a huge dream next month! I just want you to be excited with me."


There you have it...what are you thoughts???

Recite Pi

My dad has always been better than me at everything but I've always made him prove it. Just assuming that he would beat me at something was unacceptable because one day I would beat him at something. He always told me that day would come but I was always skeptical.

Take basketball for example, when I was a kid we played a game called Around the World on the basketball court in the driving way. The game involves taking turns shooting baskets from previously determined spots around the court that end up looking like a semi circle. You shoot from each spot, only moving on if you have made the previous shot. You complete the semi circle and then you take the same path back to the beginning. If you miss, it's your opponent's turn, unless of course you choose to "chance it". If you make it, then you continue. If you miss, then not only is it your opponent's turn but your next turn starts back at the beginning. The first person to make all 14 shots wins! Sounds pretty simple, right?

Well, there's more! We added a few more rules to make the playing field a little more even. I had to make the shots and I could "chance it" twice. My dad had to "swish" all of his shots, meaning the ball couldn't touch the rim, and if he "chanced it" and missed then he's automatically lose the whole game.

But wait...there's more! 

At the very end of the game, we had to recite Pi. That's right, you heard me, to win the game you had to make 14 shots and recite Pi. Okay, not all of it because it's an infinite number and we had to go inside when it was time for dinner. We just had to recite one more digit than the other person could do. My dad's a high school math teacher so guess who won this part of the game every single time? That's right, ME!! Turns out the one thing that I can do better than my dad is memorizing and reciting digits of Pi.  I know, I know...please hold your applause until all the digits have been recited.

Yes, of course I'm embarrassed. Why do you even have to ask? But I was better than him at something! Have I made it clear how very unusual that has always been?!? Also, I was little when this particular contest started and I'm pretty sure for the first few years, he was faking losing because he was so excited that he had convinced me to play along.

He and I have always played mind games like that to make the other person feel like it was probably his/her own idea to do something and not the other person's ability to use reverse psychology (or in our case reverse, reverse, reverse psychology) to make the other person participate in an activity. So if he said memorizing digits of Pi was too hard for a 6 year old then he may have meant exactly that OR he may have just issued a challenge that he'd hope I'd accept. I may have said I don't want to memorize a number that never ends but then again maybe I could win this contest. I don't usually like to be competitive but I love an evenly matched contest of almost any kind. My dad is an expert at setting such contests up.

I, of course, reached the age of being more embarrassed than proud of this random skill. So when my dad would start reciting digits of Pi, I would do my best to discourage it by acting like I couldn't hear him. But when he'd get a digit wrong, my knee jerk reaction was to shake my head to let him know that he had just "chanced it" and lost. My reaction would bring him such joy because his real goal was to prove to that I hadn't forgotten.

3.1415926535897932384626433897950

I just typed that from memory, I promise I didn't look it up. I think it might be right.

Oh, I just looked it up and I got it wrong. It's actually 3.14159265358979323846268327950.

Anyway, one summer I came home from college and my dad says to me "288, that's the next 3 digits. I know more than you now". To which I said, "No, now we're even because you just told them to me!" "Ahh, no!", he exclaimed (pretending to be exasperated when in fact he was just really glad I was home and was still willing to play his silly math games.)

Why am I telling you all of this, you ask? It's because today is March 14 or 3/14, aka Pi Day! It's the one day of the year when my dad wants to celebrate something because of what the calendar says. He's not a big fan of Christmas, Valentine's Day, Father's Day, or even his birthday because he thinks we should show love to each other every day, not just because of a date on the calendar. But all that calendar attitude disappears when the date changes to 3.14! He lets his students bring pie to school and takes time during class to pause and celebrate by eating a sweet treat. Of course he's teaching them about math during the pie cutting and eating because he just can't help but be a teacher.

Today, 3/14/14, is his last Pi Day as a teacher because he plans to retire at the end of the school year. I hope it was the best one he's ever had!

Happy Pi Day to all you nerds who actually read all the way to the end of this post! ;) Be proud of what you know, even if it just means you can do one thing better than someone way smarter than you!

The Best Dog I Ever Had

A little photo tribute to my dog. I've been missing her for exactly a year now...

Lucy Eleanor Moderatz Warkentin soaking in the sun.

she's sick and i'm crying

she comforted me

she always let me pick her up

we drove through my 20s together

she would press her nose to the window
there's still a smudge that i can't wipe away

her head tilt 

Even today, when I think of her, I am flooded with emotions but the most dominant feeling is gratitude. I am so very grateful to have had her in my life for 10 1/2 years.

Lucy was the very best dog.