Psalms

Psalm 23

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not be in want. 

He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he restores my soul.

He guides me in paths of righteousness for his name's sake.

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, 

I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.

You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies.

You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. 

Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

My Psalm

The Lord is my provider. I shall not be in want.

He leads me through the valley of the shadow of singleness. He never leaves me or forsakes me. 

He restores my soul.

With my family and friends, He comforts and upholds me.

Through the love and admiration of children, He makes sense of my life.

His unmerited favor, faithfulness, sovereignty, and love give me atonement and eternal salvation.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

Open letter to fathers who say they will lock their teenage daughters up or will greet a boy at the door with a shotgun.

Please stop saying that. It makes you sound like a coward and a fool. Neither of which you are.

Also, I don't like it. Here's why:


1. You're exaggerating. You don't actually want your daughter to be locked away in a homemade prison.

2. You don't actually plan on shooting anyone.

3. It's hypocritical for a father to say that all men are untrustworthy. If you want your daughter to trust you, don't tell her all males shouldn't be trusted.

4. You don't really want your daughter to be single her whole life. You want her to get married and have grandchildren that you can tell all your amazing stories to.

What you actually want is for your daughter to be treated with respect and admiration. What you want is for her to have healthy, mature relationships. You even want her to have sex and enjoy it. You want her to have wisdom, self-worth, and confidence in all areas of her life.

5. You are her role model for how a woman should be treated. Loving her mom is the single loudest and most direct message you can send. Louder than any lecture and more effective than aiming a shotgun at any boy.

6. Teach and train. Don't hide behind empty threats and hollow words. Teach her what a good man is so she can distinguish between trash and treasure in a heartbeat. Teach her that there are men in the world who have been taught by their fathers how to be honorable. Train her to recognize and accept protection and love, not how to live in fear of what men will do to her.

7. Don't expect her to disobey and please don't expect her to fail. Don't forbid her from talking to boys and then give her birth control.

8. Be honest about some of your fears. Of course, you don't want her to get hurt or abused! Of course, you want her to be protected from harm! These are the qualities daughters cherish in their fathers. Don't deny your fatherly instinct to protect. Teach your daughter where that instinct comes from and who you turn to when you are afraid. We are all vulnerable in this world. Being locked in rooms guarded by men with guns doesn't change that fact.

On behalf of daughters everywhere, thank you for your  kind attention to this matter.

Am I supposed to love or hate disabilities?

Disabilities cause pain and I hate pain. Pain hurts and causes me to feel very uncomfortable and motivates me to go to great lengths to seek out ways to get rid of it. This line of thinking has caused me to dig deeper into the abyss that is my relationship with disabilities. Do I love or hate disabilities? And do I have to choose?

I love how someone with Down syndrome can cross social and cultural barriers to convey the love of God to people that would have absolutely refused to listen to anyone else. How can I hate something that produces miracles?

I hate how someone with autism can have such difficulty with touch that he can't accept a hug from his own mother or have such difficulty with speech that she can't say 'dada'. How can I love something that produces rejection?

I love how someone with cerebral palsy can urge entire communities and even nations to be more physically fit, to move in any way they can, and to focus not on limitations but on possibilities. How can I hate something that produces hope?

I hate how someone with an intellectual disability can have an adverse reaction to something and, not only ruin the day for everyone, but ruin the experience forever for everyone around him. How can I love something that produces deep seeded pain and resentment?

I love how someone with multiple disabilities can inspire the creation of an entire organization that is designed to bring out and celebrate the champion in her. How can I hate something that produced the special Olympics?

I hate how someone with a seizure disorder can be so controlled by the eminence of another convulsion and so uncertain of how the next seizure will affect her that she feels like a prisoner in her own body. How can I love something that produces so much fear?

So do I hate disabilities? When I see and experience the excruciatingly loud intense pain they cause, I really really do. In those moments of wanting to cover my ears, yell, and/or rock in a corner, I would choose to take away everyone's disabilities. In a heartbeat. In my human foolishness, I would. I'd also make my legs thinner, improve my social skills, and give myself a sense of direction (I get lost...a lot) but those are different subjects. Or are they the same? If I had a magic wand and my own human wisdom the only guarantee is that I'd make everything worse. Just like King Solomon. 

The most beautiful miracle is that sometimes disabilities are what show me the face of God. His very nature and character of Love and His unmerited favor shine through in our most unlikely characteristics. 

Having a terrible sense of direction has caused me to rely on God for direction. He literally directs my paths and has made Proverbs 3:5&6 come alive in my life on a daily basis.

Turns out I don't have to declare love or hate for disabilities or for pain because what I have seen as evil, God has redeemed and used for good. What a relief! Hallelujah! 

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. ;)