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miller_schloss
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Name: Becky
Metro:
Birthday: 5/30/1981
Gender: Female
Interests: Loving and helping my husband, practicing hospitality, helping women make better lives, sewing,English country dancing, making a house a home, reading, blogging
Expertise: Writing, editing, InDesign, cooking, historical costuming, home decorating, herding two head of cat, Tolkien's poetry in LOTR, futons, craigslist, birthday parties
Occupation: Writer/Editor/Speaker
Industry: Non-profit
Message: message meEmail: email me
Member Since:
9/13/2005
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| Okay, time for a Go Fug Yourself-style Fug or Fab?
This is my new dress. I wore to a charity banquet tonight.
Matthew almost refused to be seen with me in public, oh fashion plate that he is. "You look...like a mushroom," he pronounced.
What do you think?
A. Fug! You look like Princess Toadstool.
B. Fab! You look adorable, just like all the women at the dinner said you did.
C. Unsure, but those shoes sure are cute (thanks, Karin, for letting me borrow them!).
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| BlackBerry PIN messaging conversation with Matthew from when I went to Park Street Church in Boston Friday night for the ACMC missions conference.
Becky: I just got checked out
Matthew: By a MISSIONARY?
Becky: Well, either a missionary or a missionary wanna be :)
Becky: You forget that I am now more marketable than when I was on the market
Becky: Hahaha
Matthew: Hahaha
Matthew: I obtained a monopoly, though
Matthew: Bought the exclusive rights
Matthew: On all media
Matthew: I've always been good at identifying underutilized, undervalued assets and obtaining them on the cheap
Matthew: And I quickly identified you as a nice ass
Matthew: et
Becky: Har har | | |
| Do you ever find a song that provides a better prayer than your own scattered thoughts can come up with? I love those sorts of songs. Yesterday and today I've had "Complete" by Parachute Band on infinite repeat in my head when I'm not listening to it in the car or at my computer.
Though Parachute Band should probably be fined for over-use of Auto-Tune (shawty, listen), they are otherwise awesome.
Complete (listen here)
Here I am, Oh, God
I bring this sacrifice
My open heart
I offer up my life
I look to You, Lord
Your love that never ends
Restores me again
So I lift my eyes to you, Lord
In your strength will I break through, Lord
Touch me now, let your love fall down on me
I know your love dispels all my fears
Through the storm I will hold on, Lord
And by faith I will walk on, Lord
Then I'll see beyond my Calvary one day
And I will be complete in You
P.S. Are we still cool that I took a potentially deep Spiritual post and then ruined it for you by linking to insane YouTube videos? | | |
| *Update* Hi, you guys who are visiting from StuffChristiansLike! I'm jumping up and down (well, not literally) that Jon Acuff put my picture on his Halloween post. Welcome. Can I take your coat? Want some French pressed coffee? Here, have some Skittles. While you're here, you might enjoy reading a recent post I wrote about StuffChristiansLike, including a list of my favorite of Jon's posts and how my husband and brothers score on the MWL guide. And here's a post I wrote in July that I really like: Sometimes God says "No." If you Tweet, you can follow me on Twitter - @miller_schloss. Thanks for coming by!*
This was my costume for Trunk or Treat at church:
Check me out. No, seriously, check me out! I'm a Metrosexual Worship Leader! Inspired by Jon Acuff's MWL scoring guide at Stuff Christians Like, I gleefully collected pieces for this costume over the past few weeks. My brother Daniel scored 38, for reals. In this get-up and persona, I score 53. Oh, wait, 51. I totally forgot to glue on with spirit gum the scrap of black faux fur that was going to be my soul patch.
My favorite parts are:
-I'm wearing a tie-as-a-belt AND a white belt
-the tattoo sleeve, on the arm holding the...
-Guatemalan San Jose Pinula in the personal French press
And yes, those bare feet are pedicured. Oh, AND there are Skittles in the man purse. Tangerine-colored Skittles, because that is the Crayola color of the Metrosexual Worship Leader. (I think I should get bonus points for the Skittles.)
I got big laughs from our church's youth pastor and equipping pastor, who both just went to Catalyst '09. "Were you THERE?” Equipping Pastor asked. “Because that's EXACTLY how they all dress!”
“You don't want me to dress like that,” Youth Pastor said. “Me in girl jeans is a Very Bad Idea.”
I had too much fun with this costume. In the end, it really got me thinking about worship and actually sparked a couple serious posts I'll put up soon.
In the meantime, just enjoy my awesomeness, and think about how your Halloween costume is not as Holy as mine. | | |
| I recently read a couple quotes on running that stood out to me. They're both written in first person, though one is past tense and the other is present. Different writing styles, different characters, but both sections give an interesting glimpse into the physical and mental experience of running, and they reminded me of each other.
Eclipse by Stephenie Meyer, page 629
Viewpoint character: Jacob Black
I was running before I hit the trees...my body already knew where I was going and, before I asked it to, it gave me what I wanted. ... The trees blurred into a sea of black flowing around me. My muscles bunched and released in an effortless rhythm. I could run like this for days and I would not be tired. Maybe, this time, I wouldn't stop. ...Now I could hear the faint rustle of the matted leaves beneath my toenails, the whisper of an owl’s wings above me, the ocean — far, far in the west — moaning against the beach. Hear this, and nothing more. Feel nothing but speed, nothing but the pull of muscle, sinew, and bone, working together in harmony as the miles disappeared behind me. If the silence in my head lasted, I would never go back. ... Maybe, if I ran far enough away, I would never have to hear again. . . .
The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger, page 154
Viewpoint character: Henry DeTamble
I am moving stiffly; cold is unkind to joints, and I'm slowly realizing that it is pretty cold out here by the lake, probably in the low twenties. So I run a little slower than usual, warming up, reminding my poor knees and ankles that their life's work is to carry me far and fast on demand. I can feel the cold dry air in my lungs, feel my heart serenely pounding, and as I reach North Avenue I am feeling good and I start to speed up. Running is many things to me: survival, calmness, euphoria, solitude. It is proof of my corporeal existence, my ability to control my movement through space if not time, and the obedience, however temporary, of my body to my will. As I run I displace air, and things come and go around me, and the path moves like a filmstrip beneath my feet. ... I'm flying now, that golden feeling, as if I could run right into the air, and I'm invincible, nothing can stop me, nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing—. | | |
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