Anne & May

May is on honeymoon but she’ll be back in December. In the meantime, please welcome the lovely Felicity White of Rare Rocks to Anne & May. In addition to being one of those hilarious and multi-talented Nickerson girls, she is a fellow writer, a wonderful mom, and the kind of person who knows a rare rock when she sees one.

Last week we celebrated Claire’s sixth birthday, and cupcakes with fluffy purple icing were enjoyed by all! Birthdays are special for everyone, but Claire is my very own miracle girl. This birthday is extra special.

Milestones like birthdays and anniversaries are designed for us to pause and celebrate life. I’m not sure why, but sometimes we find it hard to celebrate. In fact, celebration is one of the traditional disciplines of the Christian life – something we are encouraged to cultivate and develop as we mature. We have Christian disciplines in place so that we can make conscious efforts to grow in our faith. I think when we have trouble celebrating, it is because we have lost a valuable skill from our childhoods. You don’t have to tell a child to remember to celebrate. For proof, look at this picture of my sister Serenity on her sixth birthday:

I love this picture for a lot of reasons, but Seren’s emphatic fingers are my favorite. It was as if she was saying to the Universe, today I am six and it shall not be forgotten! It is a celebration!

The truth is, on that day little Serenity also lost a very special great-grandmother. She was a beloved, godly woman who was always dressed up and always kept a container of homemade frozen applesauce in her freezer. She fought illness for some time before her death, but it was still a terrible sadness to bring to a six year-old’s birthday party.

But kids know how to celebrate, and Serenity reminds us in this picture that the birthdays will go on. The celebrations must continue even in our grief.

Every birthday for my Claire is also the anniversary of her twin sister’s death. Born 15 weeks premature, Claire was basically healthy at birth while her sister, Ellery, was weak and sick. It could be a bittersweet day for me, but it rarely stays that way for long. Instead, it is a day full of purple icing and sparkly candles. It is the big day when we remember all the little things that changed this year. Claire learned to go down the front steps without holding onto anyone’s hand. Claire started Kindergarten and is learning to read, something we didn’t even know if she would be able to do.

I understand the purpose of grieving and I would never advocate a rush through this process, but today I’m remembering the importance of moving on as well.

Dallas Willard says this of the discipline of celebration:
“Celebration heartily done makes our deprivations and sorrows seem small, and we find in it great strength to do the will of our God because his goodness becomes so real to us.”
It is strange that such paradoxes of emotions can co-exist, but now I’m beginning to see it as one of the many cycles of life made so much more bearable with a little faith. Celebration reminds us to have hope, to believe that things will get better. Celebration reminds us to look straight into the camera of life, no matter what it has thrown at us that day, and shout, “Purple Cupcakes!”

What can you celebrate today?

The other day I was walking to the photocopier at work and passed by the giveaway shelf and saw this:

Kirk Cameron’s autobiography! It was just sitting on the free book shelf! Can you believe it? Kirk Cameron had been left behind!

I really don’t understand why someone was getting rid of this masterpiece (and no one I’ve grilled so far has fessed up). Some people just have no taste. But naturally, I grabbed it and ran, and it’s hilariously engrossing. My favorite factoid that I’ve encountered so far is that Kirk’s first acting work was for a Count Chocula commercial. I knew I loved that stuff.

(Btw, I kind of feel like Kirk Cameron should get his own by-line on this blog because he provides so much fodder around here.)

Those of you with good memories and no lives might remember this is the book I stood in line for this summer, but I ran out of time (feel free to read that last bit as a subtle reminder about the impending apocalypse) before I got mine. But God works in mysterious ways, doesn’t he? Never doubt that God always provides what we need. I got my book in the end!

So anyway, since the holidays are almost upon us and I’m in a giving mood, and May is gone and can’t stop me, also my husband has asked me to get this stupid thing out of our home, I’m giving away this slightly-used (by me) copy of Still Growing. All you have to do is leave a comment telling me which celebrity you would stand in line for hours to meet (bonus points if they’re Christian and/or haven’t done anything worth seeing in twenty years), and you’ll be entered to win this stunning piece for your collection. Um, and then tell someone you love about The Miracle Girls. But mostly, leave a comment.

Speaking of teen heartthrobs, check out this article about Edward Cullen/Cedric Diggory/Robert SomethingorOther. My first response was: WHY DIDN’T SOMEONE TELL ME? King of Prussia is only two hours away!?

Guess who already has tickets to see Twilight Friday night? (This guy.)

P. S.

May is on honeymoon but she’ll be back in December. In the meantime, please welcome the lovely Becky Ramsey of Wonders Never Cease to Anne & May. Becky wrote the world’s most charming travel memoir about moving her young family to the heart of France, called French by Heart and she is a fellow Southerner and dear friend.

I never knew much about saints until I moved to France. One day when I was a little girl, someone told me that my mother was one, but when I asked at church just what saints were, my Baptist Sunday school teacher said, “Oh honey, we don’t believe in them.” Yet at worship a few minutes later, we opened our hymnals to sing “O When the Saints Go Marching In.”

What?  Should I want to be in that number or shouldn’t I?

A few years ago we moved to France.  Suddenly saints were everywhere.  I’d walk through a courtyard, and there was Joanne d’Arc astride her stone horse.  I’d stop off at a boulangerie for a baguette, and there was a miniature Bernadette of Lourdes, hanging out by the cash register, clutching her rosary.  I’d dart in my village church to get out of the rain, and there was St. Anthony, nuzzling the holy babe, their gilt halos intertwined like a Venn diagram.  I started wondering who these people were.

So I bought a little children’s book about saints and started reading, just to get the gist.  The stories amazed me.  Why hadn’t I heard of these men and women?

As Christians, our focus should be on Christ, of course.  But as helpful as it is to read about the ordinary people of the Bible, people like Thomas, Ruth, David, and Sarah, to hear their stories, to see their struggles, and to know that despite their weaknesses, God was able to use them in quiet and powerful ways, couldn’t it be helpful to learn about other Christians too?   Not just those deemed saintly by the church, but also by our own experience?

If you had to make a list of the saints in your life, the members of the cloud of witnesses who buoy you up, who challenge you, who give you faith when yours runs out, who act as the hands of Christ to you, who would you name?   What would be your criteria?

I’ll go first.

The first person that comes to mind is Topsy Cox, a sweet old lady who, for years and years, taught me the meaning of devotion to the church.  I’ll never forget the morning of my baptism when she held my hand behind the curtain as I walked down the steps into the baptismal pool.  Before I took the minister’s hand, I took off my glasses and handed them to her, and the blurriness gave her a holy glow.

As for my adult life, I’d have to say that I’ve been blessed by many saints.  I’ve belonged to churches full of them, men and women who work hard at living out Christ’s example. There are my friends Suzie and Linda, who constantly show me Jesus’ generosity.  And my husband Todd too, who’s a veritable master at grace.

What about you?

This week in God… we begin Anne’s Reign of Terror!!!1!

May’s gone for, like, ever. Or until December, whichever comes first. She’s lined up a whole slew of awesome guest bloggers, but in between, well, you’ve got me.

The bad news is, you’ve got me.

The good news is, I can do whatever I want, and May can’t stop me!

Exhibit A:

On to this week’s news.

The Supreme Court is having a fun couple of weeks, (but then, when isn’t Ruth Bader Ginsburg a barrel of laughs?).

Between debating when it’s ok to use “fleeting expletives” on TV and deciding whether all religious expressions are free speech, it’s been high times on the bench. At issue in the second case is a monument of the Seven Aphorisms of Summum. The small church wants to place a monument to the tenets of its faith near a statue of the Ten Commandments at a public park in Utah. The question is, if they allow one religion to be prominently represented in public spaces, do they have to allow all? Should they allow none? What would you do for a Klondike bar?

In other news, Ted Haggard opened up this week about his fall from grace, saying an experience when he was a child might have been behind his sin. I’m not really sure I follow, but go here to read more. And remember, let’s keep it friendly in the comments section on this one.

Um, here’s Heidi Klum dressed kind of but not quite like an Indian god for Halloween, which has upset some people.

My biggest problem with the outfit is not the offensive quotient, it’s just… how in the world could you wear that all night? I thought the year I dressed as a bunch of grapes was the most uncomfortable costume ever.

And just as some Christian groups are gearing up to get really angry about how our society has forgotten the real meaning of Christmas… well, The American Humanist Association is giving them plenty of fodder. They’ve taken out ads on the sides of busses in Washington DC that will run through December, saying fun things like “Why believe in a god? Just be good for goodness’ sake.” So, um, yeah. Bah humbug to you too.

Well, I better get back to plotting my hostile takeover of the blog. For now, folks, be good, and goodnight.

Have you guys seen this new translation of the Bible? Apparently some super-nerds are translating the sacred text into Lolcat!

OK, so at first I didn’t get lolcats. It’s internet slang, coupled with pictures of cats. That’s weird. But then I decided to embrace it. I love cats (clearly), and there’s something about cats that’s so deliciously weird anyway that this makes an odd kind of sense. Here’s a few famous examples of lolcats

And if you go here, you can make your own lolcat by uploading photos of your own cats.

Here’s one Wayne made from a picture of a scary cat in his uncle’s barn.

Someone far nerdier than I can probably give you the whole history of lolcats, and you can check out this book for some cheap thrills, but for now let’s just say that lolcat is internet slang written from the point of view of a cat, and it is a recognizable-enough kind of dialect that people with way too much time on their hands can rewrite the Bible in it.

For example, here’s the first few verses of the book of John in lolcat:

1 In teh beginz is teh mew, and teh mew sez “Oh hai Ceiling Cat” and teh mew iz teh Ceiling Cat.
2 Teh mew an teh Ceiling Cat iz teh bests frenz in teh begins.
3 Him maeks alls teh cookies; no cookies iz maed wifout him.
4 Him haz teh liefs, an becuz ov teh liefs teh doodz sez “Oh hay lite.”
5 Teh lite iz pwns teh darks, but teh darks iz liek “Wtf.”

Ok, it’s weird, but so delightfully so, no? FYI, Ceiling Cat is God; cookies are everything. Other fun slang: Basement Cat is Satan; Birdcats are angels; and, naturally, blessings are Cheezburgrz.

And for you Bible nerds, you no longer have to worry about dynamic equivalence versus literal. Now you can just follow the handy translation guidelines:

* Cats have short attention spans. Use short sentences, and feel free to skim the more tedious bits, such as lists of “begats”.

*Prefer references to things that cats would understand. A typical domestic cat probably hasn’t seen a desert tent, but they have probably seen a sofa.

*Amplify emotions. Cats are over-emotional to the point of being neurotic. (A closed door isn’t a minor inconvenience, it’s a mortal insult.) Reflect this by making emotions really strong. A good example of this is Acts 2. The crowd isn’t merely puzzled, they are saying “Wtf? WAI DO THEY SPEEK DIS WAY?!?! WAI?”

Naturally. Check out the full guidelines here.

Ok, I know I’ve just outed myself as a nerd/crazy cat lady, but seriously, you should check out your favorite Bible verse in lolcat. You may never go back to the King James again.

Can I just say…we’re four days into this institution and being married RULES! In fact, here are my top ten favorite things about it…though I’m sure I’m forgetting some.

One, you’re constantly thinking about how you never, ever have to get married again. Don’t get me wrong. I loved my wedding and totally appreciated everyone coming out to it…but boy howdy it was very time consuming to plan. I keep joking that I’m going to have to take up a new hobby to fill the void…something like knitting!

Two, mundane chores are suddenly more fun. I’m taking the trash out, FOR MY HUSBAND. I’m going to the pharmacy, FOR MY HUSBAND. I’m washing these smelly socks, FOR MY HUSBAND. (He does lots of stuff for me too.)

Three, you don’t have to trip over the whole “fiance/fiancee” thing anymore. We were getting so tired of those highfalutin French words that I just started calling him my husband-to-be and he downgraded me to girlfriend–at least to strangers. Hahaha.

Four, health insurance. Whoever has the better insurance…you can both hop on that. I discovered this scam shortly before getting married and I tried to get it set up with my health insurance company in advance, but they informed me they couldn’t do it until I was officially married. “But my wedding is this weekend!” I said. “Well, ma’am, you might not go through with it.” Needless to say I called them back this Monday at 9am sharp to report that I did, in fact, go through with it.

Five, CAKE! Good golly, we have cake. Can you come over to our place for cake? Please?

Six, my insanely adorable husband now wears a wedding band. I don’t know if this will cut down on women hitting on him…but here’s hoping.

Seven, GIFT CARDS. Is there anything more wonderful than buying something lovely with a gift card? No, there is not. It’s like fake money that you have to spend anyways so you might as well be practical and get that corn stripper you’ve been coveting. It’s only LOGICAL, really.

Eight, combined bank accounts. I know that we don’t technically have more money. It’s the same money that’s always been there. But if you put it all in one bank account it looks a little better. It’s like one of those flattering mirrors at Banana Republic.

Nine, there is no unforgiving dress to fit in. I plan on staying in shape with my Wii Fit but it’s nice to know that if I have a bad week…no one will know.

Ten, HONEYMOON! Yes, I know. I’ve used a lot of caps in this blog but I’m so amped! We are leaving on honeymoon tomorrow and I can’t wait. I’ll see you guys on the flip side in December.

Signing off!

–May

I know that May is going to post real (professional) photos from the big day here soon, but I thought I’d post a few from my own take on the weekend. This was one of the most beautiful weddings I’ve ever been to, and I felt honored to have been included in the festivities. We wish you both a lifetime of happiness!

So Wayne and I flew out a few days before the wedding to hang out with my parents. As I mentioned, I spent part of the time talking to some classes at my mom’s school, and then Wayne and I did other fun things like go to Target, eat at In’N’Out, and check out the local wineries.

Then we went to city, met up with friends, and hit the town. One of the best parts of the wedding (for me) was getting the old crew back together again. We all started as editorial assistants together back in the day. Of course, in these shots, we’re missing our blond mascot. Here’s us at the bottom of Lombard Street.

The night before the wedding, the happy couple hosted a shindig in the secret back room of an old speakeasy. It was awesome to finally get to meet their friends and family we’ve heard so much about. May was radiantly happy. I’m sure that’s just water in her glass.

Here’s the church, Grace Cathedral, lit up like a Christmas tree. It was a beautiful church, and they were playing wedding bells as we left. Wedding bells! How cool is that?

And here’s the inside.

Grace Cathedral, by the way, is the site of a pivotal scene in the second Miracle Girls book (May wrote those parts), so it was awesome to finally see it in person. Before the ceremony, I stood at the back of the church like a total dork imagining the scene from the book in my mind. Everyone thought I was crazy as I smiled and cheered Christine (the main character) on in my head.

Here’s May just after the ceremony. Isn’t she gorgeous? She really might have been the most beautiful bride in history.

Here’s me and May. Can we talk about a) how awesome May looks, b) how happy May looks, and c) how I look like I’m standing on a chair here? I always feel like a huge gangly giant standing next to May. Also, let’s not talk about the purple shawl thing going on there. It was cold, ok?
More to come, I’m sure, but for now, enjoy!

It’s currently 5:24 on Sunday and I can barely keep my eyes open. We partied with our wedding guests till 1am both Friday and Saturday night. Plus, I’m just so overwhelmed by love at the moment, love for my brand-new husband, love for my friends who came from so far, love for our families, that I’m a little swoonish and overcome. We have never felt so special and honored.

I’ll do a more thorough post once I have the shots from the photographer. For now, I’ll just give you this, a story in iPhone pictures.

Dear Environment…I’m so sorry. But the crystal glassware and china are really awesome.

At the last minute, my stylist was HOSPITALIZED. I called a different salon and begged them to take me. Here’s me halfway through. (Those pieces on the side were pinned back too, in case you were worried.) I have to say, I think my hair was one of the highlights of the wedding and it was much better than the practice run with my normal stylist.

Every time I see his ring, I little frisson of excitement shoots down my spine. The service went off without a hitch, even though I felt like I was going to faint. It was raining, but it made the whole night very atmospheric and I got a lot of pictures on the cathedral steps holding an umbrella.

This is in our fridge now. We’re not keeping the top part in the freezer. We’re just going to eat it. It’s gingerbread with cream cheese frosting and it’s…thousands of Weight Watchers points. THOUSANDS.

We’re a family now! And Buster would like you to know that he is changing his last name.

–May, the happiest girl in the world

Tonight I’m supposed to write This Week in God. And, well, a lot of big things happened in religion news this week, but they all pretty much center on politics, so I’m going to skip that this week talk about something else instead. I should probably ask May if she minds, but she’s getting married in 48 hours so I seriously doubt she cares what I do at this point (hi May! Hope your family’s having a good time in SF!).

So today I spoke to a bunch of elementary and middle school kids about being a writer. My mom is the principal of a Christian elementary school, so she set the whole thing up. I never attended this school growing up (we went public all the way), but I practically grew up there anyway. My mom has worked at this place since I was seven, and my brothers and I used to hang out there after school all the time. I even worked in the daycare during summers while I was in college. I’ve known many of teachers my whole life. In fact, for two of the classes I spoke to, the teacher was the woman whose house I was at when my mom brought my little brother home from the hospital. It was cool to go back and say hi and catch up.

But truthfully, I dread this kind of thing. I’ve done it once before, but I’m not naturally outgoing, and I don’t exude energy, and I never really know what to say (especially to kids). What if I bore them? What if I say the wrong thing and make them hate books forever? What if they think I’m an idiot?

But I do it anyway, because I remember listening to an author talk at an event when I was in first grade, and I remember thinking how cool it would be to write a book. I have no idea who this author was, and I’ll never be able to thank her for what her presentation meant to me, but I can pay it forward and try to inspire the next generation of writers. So I show up, even though I’d really rather just sit at home and drink my parents’ coffee and watch the free cable TV.

Before the presentation, I was gathering copies of books to bring for show and tell, and I scrounged up copies of our first three, but I couldn’t find a copy of The Miracle Girls. My parents don’t have one at home (they swear they lent it out…), but I gave a whole box of these books to the school, so I figured I could just grab one there. When I got there, though, my mom couldn’t find me a copy, so I just decided I’d have to talk about that book without visuals. No big deal. But then we walked into the library on our way to the classroom, and the first thing I saw was two girls reading copies of The Miracle Girls.

Naturally, I said the obvious: “Why don’t we just steal them from those kids?”

Note to self. Remember where you are and who can hear you before you speak.

My mom just shrugged and went up and asked the poor girl if she could borrow the book for a while. The girl looked terrified, but she handed it over, and all was well. I also noticed another girl reading The Book of Jane, so I gave her a thumbs up and said “Good choice.” She smiled and backed away.

Anyway, the fifth graders I talked to were awesome. They had all kinds of fascinating questions and seemed really into it. The middle schoolers, not so much, though their teacher (and my mom) assured me that’s just how seventh graders are. It was fun, though, and I’m glad I did it, and mostly I hope I was able to inspire some kid to dream big. Or at least to not think I’m an idiot.

Today’s post is short, because I’m sitting in the new JetBlue terminal at JFK (awesome, btw)(plus free wifi!) on my way to California!!! Woo hoo! Wayne and I are going to spend a few days with my folks in San Jose before heading up to San Francisco for May’s wedding!

I love the way the air smells in California. I can’t wait to step out of the airport and inhale my first breath of that sweet, sweet Bay Area air. It smells like home. I miss it.

By the way, can anyone explain to me the compulsive need people have to whip out their cell phone and start yammering away the moment they sit down in an airport? What’s the deal? If you ever see me in an airport, you’ll recognize me by the earplugs permanently embedded in my ears (a nice look, for sure).