Popcorn Faith
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
A few years ago, Mike got me this amazing stovetop popcorn popper from Lehman’s. It’s like Jiffy Pop, except old fashioned in a silver kettle with a twirly handle so you don’t have to shake it on the burner. We use that every week, and it makes the best homemade popcorn ever. Much better than microwave popcorn.
This week, I began reading a book titled In a Heartbeat: Sharing the Power of Cheerful Giving by Leigh Anne and Sean Tuohy, the couple portrayed in the movie The Blind Side. In the early chapters, Sean describes what he calls their look at giving as popcorn giving. In essence, you can’t save everybody, but you can save the people God pops into your life in that moment. Like hot kernels of popcorn in my silver kettle, the hot, oily ones pop up, and beg for your attention right then and there, and those are the people we should give ourselves to.
As I read his philosophy, I was so touched and it really hit home with me, a fellow popcorn lover. We had connected popcorn to our faith before in our family, but only in the form of what we call popcorn prayers. A popcorn prayer is when we stand or sit in a circle, hold hands, and each person says a brief prayer, whatever comes to mind, and the prayer pops around from person to person until we have all spoken our hearts.
But now I can bring popcorn deeper into my faith as I try to pay attention to those people God popcorns in front of me in each moment.
We have been having some “issues” with our Verizon MiFi, and I had to call customer service yesterday. Usually, making a customer service call in and of itself is enough to put me in a bad mood. But I tried to stop, take a deep breath, and see the customer service rep as a piece of popcorn God was popping up in my life. I was gentle in my wording, and my kindness was doubly returned by the sweet customer service representative. My MiFi problem is still not solved, but my heart was touched by the kindness I received when I simply gave it away. Pop.
Then I had to call Walmart and order some subs for a meeting at work. Again, calling Walmart is sometimes a mood-destroyer. But I tried out my popcorn theory again, and what do ya know. The simple sweet words and laughter I used was returned two-fold.
So I am going to take the Tuohy’s popcorn philosophy and try to apply it in my life daily. I am going to try and give even when I don’t feel like giving, to show kindness even when I don’t feel like being kind. To look for the hot, oily kernels of need God pops into my path and in each moment, try to meet their needs, not my own.
I know I won’t always get it right, so don’t look for perfection here. You will be sorely disappointed. But I am going to try and popcorn my faith into my daily walk. And you never know, maybe my life will become sweeter even though it’s salty.
Posted by Trish Berg 6:00 AM 0 comments
Labels: Graphic Publications, The Bargain Hunter, Wooster Weekly News
Eclectic
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
The world has gone eclectic, and I am the first person to say WOO HOO!
Eclectic is a style even I can get on board with. In its simplest form, eclectic is anything that derives style or taste from a variety of sources. In essence, mismatched.
Now that mismatched socks are in fashion, my kids head to school with a lime green tie die sock on one foot and a pink and blue sock on the other foot. Who knows where their perfect match is and who cares. Folding laundry has been simplified as well now that I do not need to match the sock pairs up and can get quite creative in my sock-pair-folding.
This sock trend has made me consider going eclectic in my life as a whole. And so I did.
We needed new dishes. Don’t ask my husband, Mike, because he thinks we are perfectly fine with our 2 bland sets of dishes that are over twenty years old, chipped and faded. He does not quite understand the female desire for a fresh dinner table look. We were given the plain white set as a wedding gift, and purchased the apple plates a few years later. And frankly I was tired of the look and the blandness on our kitchen table.
I started my plate journey by looking at the traditional matched dinner plate sets at the stores, and discovered we might need to take out a second mortgage to afford new plates. So that went out the window (especially after the Financial Peace class we took with Dave Ramsay). And then it hit me. I could go eclectic.
I began my search for eclectic dishes at area Goodwill stores and started to see the big picture forming for my new set of plates. It began with an idea of color. I knew I wanted color. So I picked up some solid green plates, 2 by 2. Then I found some red plates, a few purple ones, orange ones, and to round out the look, a set of cream plates with a neat edgy design.
We now have a fantastic eclectic set of dinner dishes all for less than fifteen dollars total. Dave would be so proud. My next goal is to make my smaller plate sets go eclectic and maybe even my glassware.
And to think that it all started with mismatched socks.
The world has gone eclectic and I am totally on board with the new trend.
Who knows what might be next. You might soon see me at Buehler’s in mismatched Clarks, an orange turtleneck, purple scarf and yellow earrings. As eclectic as I may look on the outside, know that I will be smiling ear to ear on the inside because going eclectic has allowed me to stay calm in a chaotic world full of insanity and stress.
And to add a little color to my life.
Posted by Trish Berg 9:31 AM 0 comments
Labels: Graphic Publications, The Bargain Hunter, Wooster Weekly News
Toddlers to Teens
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
There once was a day (a very normal day) many years ago, when I sat in my kitchen with my eldest daughter, Hannah, and wondered if I would ever again get out of my house. I was feeding her lunch and the four walls seemed to be closing in on me. There she sat ooing and cooing at me with strained peas and mashed sweet potatoes on her face and all I could think about was whether or not I would be held hostage by those four walls for the next twenty years. It was a very small kitchen moment of my life, but I remember it like it was yesterday.
That was over sixteen years ago, and since then my mothering has gone through many changes. I spent over ten years with babies and toddlers on my hip and dirty diapers stinking up my trash cans. There were sleepless nights, naptime struggles and more spit up than I care to recall. During those years, I spent much of my time pregnant, nursing, and praying. I did a lot of praying.
For the last five years or so, I have spent most of my time sitting in my four door minivan, carpooling my tweens and teens to and from school, lessons and libraries. I spend my days washing laundry, folding laundry, putting laundry away, sorting socks, and wondering why I always end up with a single mismatched sock, fishing peanut butter cracker wrappers out of my lint catch in the dryer. (I am not sure why that surprises me as the wrappers also hibernate under my couch cushions.)
I may not change diapers any longer, but I do unplug the toilet on a daily basis. Feeding my toddlers finger food has been replaced by feeding my teenagers pizza several nights each week. Looking back, I wish I would have bought stock in Cheez-Its and Gatorade for as much as we consume them. I might have been a millionaire by now.
Speaking of money, it seems to flow out of my wallet faster than we can earn it for ski trips, movie dates, team fees, field trips and late night Taco Bell runs. We have “invested” in American Eagle jeans and Under Armor attire (which I think should be woven with 14K gold in the material for as much as they cost).
It’s not all bad. I have spent enough time learning how to operate, download, manage and trouble-shoot iPods, WiFi and apps that I have earned a Ph.D. in iTunes. I am not sure that degree is marketable outside of my own house, but I do expect the certificate in the mail any day now.
Mothering teens may be different than mothering toddlers, but in some ways, my life is still the same. I used to worry about my toddlers sleeping through the night or falling down and hitting their head on the corner of the coffee table. Now I worry about my teens driving on icy roads, dating (not until they are thirty), and most of all, remembering that I love them even though we seem to squabble about the little things in life.
I guess my very small kitchen moments have been replaced by very big realities. My four kitchen walls have been traded in for four doors on my minivan. But all in all, I still worry, wait and pray.
I guess some things never change.
Posted by Trish Berg 9:31 AM 0 comments
Labels: Graphic Publications, The Bargain Hunter, Wooster Weekly News
Distant Thunder
Tuesday, January 03, 2012
I remember eating TV dinners with my dad in the basement as we watched MASH on TV, and somehow I found a way to swallow those not-quite-cooked mashed potatoes and mystery meats. I remember making kites out of garbage bags with my dad, sledding on grandma’s hill and ice-skating with my mom.
I remember when the best snack in the world was peanut butter spread on an apple slice and the best time was anytime I was with my family.
My memories do thunder in the distance, and it makes me wonder what my own children will remember when they are grown and gone.
Will 2012 be the year my oldest child gets her driver’s license (she is hoping for that one)? Will we get snowed in? We will build a snowman in the yard? Go sledding on the hill only to rush in for hot cocoa and marshmallows with cold, red noses and wet toes?
Will spring bring mud or flowers or both? Will summer vacation be relaxing or will we travel to the ends of the earth on a road trip?
That’s the great thing about embarking on a new year – we have no idea what the future will hold for us. Some of it will be good, some of it might be bad, all of it will be real. Most of it will become memories we will hold onto for many years to come.
I know that our family has been immensely blessed in 2011, having four healthy kids and two sets of healthy grandparents is the biggest gift we could ask for. We have made new friends, found a new church home and have seen our children discover the world through the eyes of missionaries.
We may not know what tomorrow holds, but we do know Who holds our tomorrows. And maybe that’s enough.
From the Jiffy pop popcorn to sledding on grandma’s hill, my memories roll by and I can only imagine what my children will remember from 2012, the good, the bad, the blessings and the challenges. I guess there is something to be said for distant thunder, that rumbling of your memories through your mind to remind you what you cherish about today.
I don’t remember Christmas gifts, money spent or things I possessed. What I remember are the relationships and the time I spent with the ones I loved the most.
I guess my prayer is that my children remember three things from 2012.
One – that life is a gift. Period.
Two – that the memories we are building now will become distant thunder for them, and someday, they, too, can remember.
Three – that popcorn and hot cocoa with marshmallows can solve almost any stress life can throw your way.
Happy New Year!
Posted by Trish Berg 6:00 AM 0 comments
Labels: Graphic Publications, The Bargain Hunter, Wooster Weekly News
The Gifts of Christmas – Hope
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
(Part 3 in a 3 Part Series)
Hope. It’s that feeling that tomorrow will be better no matter what today brings. It’s the ever present drive to reach for something you can’t quite grasp with your hands, but you can always grasp with your heart. Hope is what makes us get out of bed in the morning even when we don’t feel like facing our life, and hope is what gives us the courage to make the impossible – possible even in the midst of doubt.
Hope was born on Christmas Day.
Hopelessness can easily settle in if we allow it to permeate our thoughts. There have been times in my life when hopelessness sank my heart. Yet somehow, even though I had given up, hope found me. That’s the thing about hope; it can find you even when you are not sure you want to hope any longer because it hurts too much.
As a child, I felt hopeless when my dad walked out on his marriage to my mom, and out of my life. Though I visited him from time to time, he never filled that fatherly void in my heart and I never quite felt as if he truly loved me, just as I was.
But God provided a step father who loves me for me. Hope lived on.
As a college student, I felt hopeless when my boyfriend of four years cheated on me and shattered my heart and my self-esteem.
But God provided Michael who loves me just as I am, and who introduced me to Jesus.
As a young adult, I felt hopeless when my sister and I cared for our biological father after his stroke, and the chaos and stress never seemed to end.
But God reached him and he accepted Christ as his Savior two days before he died.
My hopeless times seem somewhat trivial as I write them out as I have never faced cancer, the death of a child, nor the pain of losing a spouse. I am sure you have faced hopeless times in your life that make mine pale in comparison. I want you to know that I realize that. I have not walked where you have walked, nor could I know what you have experienced in your life and I don’t want to pretend to know your heart.
What I do know is that our hope rests in the gift of Christmas, in that tiny little Baby born to a virgin, in a stable where the animals slept. In the Savior He became and the gift He gives freely to us if we only accept it.
In the Psalms, we read that “We wait in hope for the LORD; he is our help and our shield,” (Psalm 33:20). In Romans, we are told that our hope may be unseen, but if we wait patiently our hope will save us. (Romans 8:24-25)
The thing is that hope lives in you and hope lives in me, if we accept it.
This Christmas, my prayer is that you grab hold of the hope you can’t quite grasp with your hands, but you can always grasp with your heart, and sing as the angels sang on that first Christmas night when hope was born.
Merry Christmas……
Posted by Trish Berg 7:00 AM 0 comments
Labels: Graphic Publications, The Bargain Hunter, Wooster Weekly News
The Gifts of Christmas – Joy
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
(Part 2 in a 3 Part Series)Note: Please join me here next week as I wrap up my 3 Part Series on the Gifts of Christmas. Last week was on the gift of Comfort. This week is on the gift of Joy. If you missed a column, you can find them all on the Graphic Publications website.
Things don’t always go my way. I would guess that things do not always go your way either. Life is full of disappointments, frustrations and hurt feelings. We all have moments in our lives when we feel that no one understands us, accepts us, or truly knows us inside and out.
Last week, things didn’t go my way.
So I spent some time thinking about true joy. As always God has a way of meeting us where we are to show us something brand new and take us to where He wants us to go.
In some silent reflection, God reminded me that joy comes from the inside, not from our circumstances. Joy is not something that happens to us, it is a choice we make every day. Joy can be found in the midst of pain and true joy can be unexplainable to someone who does not know Jesus. Maybe that’s why those of us who do know Jesus are called to joy no matter what life throws at us.
Last week, my feelings were hurt. I spent twelve hours in tears on and off. In fact, I threw myself a regular old pity party and finally fell asleep praying as the tears moistened my pillow.
I don’t want you to feel sorry for me; I did enough of that for myself. And I am sure the hurt I felt is probably nothing compared to hurt you have felt in your own life at times. What I do want is to explain how I found joy in the midst of that hurt.
I woke up the next day, and though my circumstances had not changed, I found a sense of joy in the midst of the pain. I started looking at my circumstance with a new perspective; a godly perspective. I gave up control of my life and trusted in God’s plan, and in doing so, found joy only Christ can bring.
God does not promise us an easy path. What He does promise is that it will rain on the righteous and unrighteous (Matthew 5:45), so grab an umbrella and get ready for the thunderstorms of life.
And then comes Christmas.
“And the angel said to them, “Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of a great joy that will be for all the people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord. (Luke 2:10-11). I can hardly imagine the magnificent sight of the angels in the sky singing and the joy the shepherds felt at that moment. I want to feel that joy every day of my life no matter what storms rain on me.
The gift of joy is not wrapped in colored paper tied with a ribbon and sitting under your Christmas tree. The true gift of Joy was wrapped in swaddling clothes and born in a stable so that if we believe in Him, we can have ever lasting life (Luke 2:7).
Whatever is going on in your life today, whatever hurt you may be feeling right now, know that true joy can still be found in that manger in the arms of a Savior who understands you, feels your pain and knows you inside and out.
The true gift of joy can be unwrapped all year long. No assembly required.
Posted by Trish Berg 6:05 AM 1 comments
Labels: Graphic Publications, The Bargain Hunter, Wooster Weekly News
The Gifts of Christmas - Comfort
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Note: Please join me over the next three weeks as I share a 3 Part Series with you on the Gifts of Christmas. This week is on the gift of Comfort.
The Christmas story is truly a simple story. One filled with hope, love, grace…and gifts. Christmas is filled with gifts. Not the packages wrapped in red and green paper under your Christmas tree, but the gifts that can’t be wrapped in a box with a ribbon top. And the best gift ever given was Jesus Himself, fully God and fully man, sent to us to show God’s love.
Christmas is a truly simple story at its core, but with so many gifts wrapped up with love.
Let’s start with Mary. Imagine how Mary felt as she journeyed to Bethlehem with her new husband only to find nowhere to stay. She had trusted God and faithfully believed what the angel had told her, and yet when the time came for her to deliver her baby, there was no room for them at the inn.
I imagine that Mary was scared. I know that I would be. I imagine that Mary felt alone, even with Joseph by her side. I know that’s how I would feel. And that is where the gift of comfort comes in.
God must have known how much He was asking of Mary. He understood what she was feeling. God understands our fear and loneliness. So after Jesus was born in that lowly manger, amidst Mary’s fears and loneliness, God sent Mary the shepherds.
“And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, ‘Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.’” (Luke 2:8-14)
After seeing the angels in the sky praising God, the shepherds hurried to meet this baby Jesus. “So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger.” (Luke 2:16) So there was Mary with Joseph and Jesus in a cold stable feeling very unwelcome in a town that had no room for them in the inn, and God sent comfort in the form of shepherds.
I imagine her smile, the warmth that penetrated her heart as she listened to the shepherds’ story of how the angels sang in the sky and praised God. Knowing that God led them to meet Jesus in that stable must have been so assuring to her. And when she heard what they had said, she “treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.” (Luke 2:19) She treasured God’s gift of comfort in her heart and I am sure it kept her warm in that cold stable.
God have Mary the gift of comfort just when she needed it the most from the most unlikely source- shepherds from the field. A simple gift in a simple story from a glorious God, all wrapped up in His grace.
And that grace is lovelier than any wrapping paper we could buy at the store.
Posted by Trish Berg 8:00 AM 0 comments
Labels: Graphic Publications, The Bargain Hunter, Wooster Weekly News
The City That Never Sleeps
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
I never quite got used to the noises of the city. All night long there would be cars driving down the road, people talking on the street corners, and unknown alarms going off in the distance. It was a very different way of living than I was used to in suburban Ohio. It was a place I wanted to visit, but could never quite see myself living there.
But I did enjoy my visits to the city that never sleeps. I have wonderful memories of taking the subway form Brooklyn to Manhattan to shop at Macy’s, home of the real Santa. We skated at Rockefeller Center, took carriage rides through Central Park, and shopped at little markets in Soho. My favorite desserts were from a little Italian bakery just down the road from Grandma’s apartment, where we would walk most evenings after supper for a sweet treat.
Well, last week, I got to tour the Big Apple once again in a whirlwind weekend bus trip that started with a request from my teenage daughter, Hannah, and ended with sore knees and sixteen out of thirty-two hours on a charter bus.
But I guess that’s how most adventures begin: on wing and a prayer, and sometimes a pair of sore knees.
We left on Friday night at ten-thirty in the evening, and drove all night long. We arrived in New Jersey and at breakfast at a great little restaurant outside of Hoboken. Then, of course, while in Hoboken, we stopped to see the Cake Boss. After an hour in line, we paid far too much for a few exquisite cupcakes to eat and I tried not to think about the calories.
And then it was off to NYC. There I was with my two teenage daughters, Hannah and Sydney, touring many of the places I knew as a child. It was almost surreal. We walked through Battery Park and looked at the Statue of Liberty from a distance. We went to the top of the Empire State Building, and enjoyed the window displays at Macy’s. We took a carriage ride through Central Park, shopped at FAO Swartz, and got a hot pretzel and Coke from the street vendor. We even ate at a quaint little restaurant in Little Italy which seemed like a flashback to my childhood and walked through Times Square at night with all the lights glowing daylight.
I had such a wonderful time experiencing New York City with my girls, and we made memories that will last a lifetime. It was even worth the sixteen-hour round trip ride. (I think)
And the city seemed the same. I guess some things never change.
New York City is the city that never sleeps, and I am thankful to have seen it again from their eyes. It may have been a long bus ride, but the sweetest treat wasn’t the cupcake. It was seeing their eyes light up with each and every New York minute.
Posted by Trish Berg 9:54 AM 0 comments
Labels: Graphic Publications, The Bargain Hunter, Wooster Weekly News
My Magical Minivan
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
But I digress.
During those driving moments, I have found that the minivan can be a sort of magical.
If I am driving alone in the car to get one or more of my kiddos, I crank up the music and sing to my heart’s content which is quite refreshing as there is not a soul there to tell me how bad I sound.
I pray during those solo-driving moments as well. It is time alone with God to contemplate my heart, those who are near and dear to me, and to seek God’s presence in my life. I don’t close my eyes or bow my head, but I believe God is present in that minivan beside me as I seek Him.
I call my mom. On most drives to or from one destination or another, I dial my mom on my cell phone and put her on speaker phone (so that I can keep both hands on the wheel) and we catch up on our days, stresses, and blessings.
And when I have some of my children with me on a commute to or from a lesson or practice, I open the door for conversations and connections. Sometimes the conversations are casual like how recess was today or how much homework do you have. Sometimes they are about friendship issues they are facing at school or hurt feelings they are experiencing.
And sometimes, they open up a deep part of their soul to me during a commute and share a secret feeling or fear they are afraid to share with me at other times.
Driving is not the only time I accomplish tasks in my minivan. I spend many moments waiting in this parking lot or that parking lot for a lesson or practice to end and for my child to come out to meet me. I used to just get impatient at those times as the clock ticked away and my time was wasted sitting there doing nothing.
Not any longer.
Now I find that time to be precious and perfect for certain tasks I can’t seem to squeeze into my normal daily routine.
I file and paint my nails. Yes, I have given myself a manicure while waiting for basketball practice to end.
I grade papers for school. Just like a mom’s job is from sun up til sun down, a teacher’s job is never done, and sitting in the minivan is the perfect place to grade papers.
I put makeup on, read a good book, catch up on my text messages, call dear friends to say hello, and even have been known to take a power nap with my seat tilted back just so.
Time may be money, but you could never put a monetary value on my time in the minivan. I guess you make do with what you have, and I have hours on end in my minivan.
So instead of becoming impatient and frustrated, I have decided to get creative, and I have turned my magical minivan into a place of refreshment and relaxation as I strengthen my relationships with my children and God in a very unexpected place.
The front seat of my minivan.
Now if I could only find a way to do pilates there, it would be perfect.
Struggling with loads of laundry, clutter in the kitchen and chaos in your life? Stress can easily steal our joy. Trish Berg reminds us to simplify the small stuff and find Joy in the Journey.
You know what they say; time is money. Well, having little of either time nor money, I have found some creative ways to use what little time I have. As a mom of four, I find myself spending inordinate amounts of time as a chauffeur driving my children to and from practices, lessons, events, and activities. I think my rear end is forever molded to the plush cover of the front seat of my minivan.
But I digress.
During those driving moments, I have found that the minivan can be a sort of magical.
If I am driving alone in the car to get one or more of my kiddos, I crank up the music and sing to my heart’s content which is quite refreshing as there is not a soul there to tell me how bad I sound.
I pray during those solo-driving moments as well. It is time alone with God to contemplate my heart, those who are near and dear to me, and to seek God’s presence in my life. I don’t close my eyes or bow my head, but I believe God is present in that minivan beside me as I seek Him.
I call my mom. On most drives to or from one destination or another, I dial my mom on my cell phone and put her on speaker phone (so that I can keep both hands on the wheel) and we catch up on our days, stresses, and blessings.
And when I have some of my children with me on a commute to or from a lesson or practice, I open the door for conversations and connections. Sometimes the conversations are casual like how recess was today or how much homework do you have. Sometimes they are about friendship issues they are facing at school or hurt feelings they are experiencing.
And sometimes, they open up a deep part of their soul to me during a commute and share a secret feeling or fear they are afraid to share with me at other times.
Driving is not the only time I accomplish tasks in my minivan. I spend many moments waiting in this parking lot or that parking lot for a lesson or practice to end and for my child to come out to meet me. I used to just get impatient at those times as the clock ticked away and my time was wasted sitting there doing nothing.
Not any longer.
Now I find that time to be precious and perfect for certain tasks I can’t seem to squeeze into my normal daily routine.
I file and paint my nails. Yes, I have given myself a manicure while waiting for basketball practice to end.
I grade papers for school. Just like a mom’s job is from sun up til sun down, a teacher’s job is never done, and sitting in the minivan is the perfect place to grade papers.
I put makeup on, read a good book, catch up on my text messages, call dear friends to say hello, and even have been known to take a power nap with my seat tilted back just so.
Time may be money, but you could never put a monetary value on my time in the minivan. I guess you make do with what you have, and I have hours on end in my minivan.
So instead of becoming impatient and frustrated, I have decided to get creative, and I have turned my magical minivan into a place of refreshment and relaxation as I strengthen my relationships with my children and God in a very unexpected place.
The front seat of my minivan.
Now if I could only find a way to do pilates there, it would be perfect.
Posted by Trish Berg 9:44 AM 0 comments
Labels: Graphic Publications, The Bargain Hunter, Wooster Weekly News
SOLD!
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
I went to a furniture auction…alone….and came home with a couch and a loveseat.
My first fear was that my husband, Mike, might make me sleep in the barn when he found out I bought two pieces of furniture, and spent more than what we had saved for the new furniture.
The first mistake I made was going to the auction alone. Clearly I needed someone there to slap my hand down when I over-bid on something. Or at least someone to bounce ideas off of or ask for a second opinion.
What went wrong? Well I fell in love with a leather couch. You should never fall in love with a couch because it will never love you back. At least the price won’t, especially at an auction. I found that out pretty quickly.
There I was, all alone, standing in a crowd of bidders, raising my number anxiously to bid on “my” couch as the lump in my throat got bigger and the knot in my stomach made me weak in the knees. It was sort of fun at first, but then the bidding got to my maximum level, and I stopped. I felt good about that. I had self-control. I stopped.
The bidding continued to go up in fifty dollar increments and went up two-hundred more dollars. That’s when it appeared that it was about to end. And that’s when I thought “It’s only two-hundred dollars, bid…bid…bid…!!!”
So I did. I raised my number and the auctioneer caught my eye and suddenly my bid was placed. Then no one else bid, and I heard the hammer slam down as he said “SOLD to 733!”
Yep, I bought a couch.
And that’s when I thought “It’s two-hundred dollars over your maximum, what were you thinking!”
The adrenaline rushed through my veins, as I headed to take a closer look at my new, leather best friend. I figure I might as well get to know my couch as I may have to sleep on it for the next ten years if my sweet hubby was not happy with my purchase.
I would like to say that I stopped there, paid my couch bill, and headed for home. But alas, I caught the auction bug, and went on to buy a beautiful fabric love seat that coordinates with my new leather couch.
Overall, I got a decent deal on the couch, and a great deal on the loveseat. And I only spent 30% more than we were going to spend. I thought auctions were supposed to save me money.
I went home to face the music. And with my exciting news, Mike showed me kindness, love and understanding. I guess you know you married the right guy when you make a mistake like that and he smiles, hugs you and says, “That’s fine, Honey,” and then loves you anyway.
Guess on my marriage, I am sure glad he said “SOLD!” nearly twenty years ago.
No returns, refunds or exchanges.
Posted by Trish Berg 8:27 AM 0 comments
Labels: Graphic Publications, The Bargain Hunter, Wooster Weekly News
My Date with Riley
Tuesday, November 08, 2011
Tomorrow is a very big day at the Berg house. No, it is not someone’s birthday. It is not Christmas, not even Thanksgiving yet. It is (brace yourself) my great-big-awesome-spectacular date with my eight (almost nine) year old daughter, Riley.
It all started months ago when Riley decided she and I needed some one on one time together. She asked if we could have a date, and of course, I said yes. But little did I know how big this was going to get.
Schedules are what they are, and so we have been waiting for an evening when we could escape our daily lives and just go hang out. So days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months. And here we are two months later, finally having our great-big-awesome-spectacular date.
I am a little nervous about the date because Riley has been talking about this great-big-awesome-spectacular date for months. She has built it up in her head as this amazing experience and I am not sure I can live up to her standards. Even if I took her to Disneyworld (which I am not) I am not sure it would live up to her dreams.
Just last night as I tucked an already sleepy Riley into her bunk bed, through closed eyes, she whispered, “Mom, I can’t wait for our great-big-awesome-spectacular date.”
Well, maybe by those exact words, but you get the picture.
She wants to go out to dinner at Pizza Hut, but I am hoping to talk her into a restaurant that serves more than pizza. But it is her date, so I will let her decide.
She wants to go shopping and buy some fall shirts for her wardrobe. I am excited to take her to a few stores and have her try on some clothes and model them for me.
Most of all, she wants to spend one on one time with me, and that is the greatest blessing of all.
One of my favorite quotes is form the movie, Hook, when the grown up Peter Panning is arguing with his wife, Moira. Peter is a work-a-holic dad who has little time for his children. Moira says, “We have a few special years with our children, when they're the ones that want us around. After that you're going to be running after them for a bit of attention. It's so fast Peter. Just a few years, and it's over. And you are not being careful. And you are missing it.”
So, I am trying not to miss it. During these few short years, I am trying to spend time with my children when they are the ones chasing me. I don’t always get it right, but I am trying to do it better.
So, tomorrow I have a great-big-awesome-spectacular date with Riley. It has been months in the making and is what dreams are made of. Which, to be honest, still makes me a little nervous because I hope it is all that Riley wants it to be.
That’s when I remind myself that what she really wants most is me. And that I can deliver. Even at Pizza Hut.
Posted by Trish Berg 9:58 AM 0 comments
Labels: Graphic Publications, The Bargain Hunter, Wooster Weekly News
43 Things in 43 Years
Tuesday, November 01, 2011
Every year, when I turn another year older, it causes me to contemplate where I have been and where I am going. I am not sure I like growing older, but I do like growing wiser. And hopefully with every wrinkle, knee-creek and gray hair comes a bit of wisdom to take along for the ride. So, in forty-three years, what have I learned?
1. Rainy days are calming, especially when I can stay home.
2. Love grows deeper with every year if you allow yourself to trust.
3. Alarm clocks never sound soothing.
4. Laundry is a never ending chore that will drive even the sanest person crazy.
5. Coffee is a necessity. Period.
6. Naps become more attractive as you age.
7. There is never anything worth watching on TV, and yet I watch TV.
8. Windows will never look clean and clear.
9. I hate washing windows.
10. Working full-time is easier than working part-time. Not sure why, it just is.
11. Crock pots are a gift from God for a busy mom.
12. Fresh-baked, warm chocolate chip cookies will cure just about bad mood.
13. No matter what I serve for supper (with the exception of pizza) one of my children will inevitably say “yuck.”
14. The teapot whistling on a cold winter’s day is like music to my ears.
15. Cars will get flat tires, and it is never the right time or place.
16. Men and women will never fully understand each other, and that’s Ok.
17. Daylight savings time rocks when you gain an hour.
18. Losing an hour stinks.
19. My children need my love each and every day.
20. Spending time with my children is the greatest gift I can give them.
21. Moms need time away from their children in order to stay sane.
22. Technology will fail you when you need it the most.
23. Pencils and paper work just as well as Word.
24. Weight loss gets more difficult with age.
25. Gravity has become my enemy.
26. A good bra is as supportive as a best friend.
27. My babies adored me.
28. My toddlers idolized me.
29. My school-agers admire me.
30. My teenagers despise me sometimes.
31. I love my teenagers enough to let them despise me sometimes.
32. Fashion trends may change, but I will never be fashionable.
33. A good pair of jeans is worth their weight in gold.
34. Kids will hide food and wrappers underneath couch cushions.
35. Making hot cocoa with milk on a cold winter’s day wins you mother of the year.
36. My kiddos primary job is to destroy our house, one day at a time.
37. A kitchen floor with UFO’s (unidentified food objects) is a well-loved kitchen.
38. Hiring a cleaning lady sounds more attractive every year.
39. Patience does not increase with age.
40. Kindness is always the answer.
41. God’s love is unconditional, grace is a gift and I need Jesus more every day.
42. My husband puts up with a lot, and I am thankful he loves me anyway.
43. I am blessed more than I deserve, and life is too short not to enjoy each moment with the ones I love the most.
Posted by Trish Berg 10:40 AM 0 comments
Labels: Graphic Publications, The Bargain Hunter, Wooster Weekly News
Unexpected Blessings in the Berm
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
It was an act of random tire explosion, no more, no less.
We had just spent the morning cheering Sydney on at her cross country meet, and were driving home from Buehler’s with a trunk full of groceries and a van full of kids. Mike heard a rattling of sorts, so we hushed the kids and rolled the window down. It sounded like it was coming from the passenger side rear tire. No big deal, so we went on driving.
A moment later we hear a loud bang, as if a large rock had hit the car. My first thought was, “Wow, that will cause a dent.” Then the van began to vibrate and shake as the same tire that had been rattling had apparently exploded and we now had complete flat tire.
Mike carefully slowed down and gently maneuvered the beast to the side of the road into the berm. I am thankful he was the one driving because it was not an easy task, and he did it very well. One problem was that we were just on the start of the bridge over Lake Harmony, and there was maybe a five foot berm area and nowhere else to go.
We parked, and got the kids out of the car since other vehicles were passing by at 60 mph. We just felt that it was safer to be out of the car, on the other side of the railing, behind the car. That way, if someone accidentally hit our van, plunging it over the bridge and into Lake Harmony, we would be safe. (Yes, that is how my brain works).
At that location, the other side of the railing is a tall grass, bug-infested, steeper-than-a-cliff slope. So we stood there balancing on an angle so we did not roll downhill, I ignored the hopping bugs hitting my feet, and we began to make our calls.
AAA, called. Should arrive in 40 minutes or so. It was the “or so” part that had me worried. Next call was to a list of friends who might be able to come and pick up our kids and our groceries as we waited for help to come. Almost nobody seemed to be home, at no fault of their own. Finally, we reached Dawn, who became our hero for sure. She drove out, loaded our kiddos and groceries into her minivan, and chauffeured them home safe and sound.
Then the State Highway Patrol showed up and parked their vehicle, lights flashing, behind our van to protect us from traffic.
I don’t remember that officer’s name, but I do remember how chivalrous he was. What a gentleman. I felt safe the moment he arrived. And when he had to leave, another State Highway Patrolman arrived to take his place. The second officer was a veteran from Afghanistan and Iraq. He made me feel safe and protected, and I could see why our country has been safe for so many years since 9/11 with men like him overseas.
We tend to take our police and patrolmen for granted, I know I do. But no longer. I am now their biggest fan!
It’s funny when life does not go your way and you end up in the berm instead of on the highway speeding by. Sometimes it’s in the berm where you discover the most unexpected blessings.
As if it’s an explosion of random kindness, no more, no less.
Posted by Trish Berg 10:56 AM 0 comments
Labels: Graphic Publications, The Bargain Hunter, Wooster Weekly News
A Banjo on My Knee
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
I had never been to Alabama before, that is, until my dad moved to Birmingham after my parents’ divorce. I was in high school at the time, and Alabama was a world apart from my small Ohio hometown. I got to see a lot of the world through visiting my dad when I was young. He lived in Florida, California, New York, Rhode Island, and Alabama. And that was just during my teenage years. As a project engineer and he went where the work was.
As his daughter, my heart went where he was.
My experience visiting Alabama involved falling in love with the southern accent and the kindness of strangers that seemed to abound at every turn. I remember going to the grocery store and asking someone where something was, and the sweet lady walked me right to the item, making sure I found my dad when I was done as well.
I know no state is perfect, and though my home is in Ohio, I have a sweet, precious place in my heart for Alabama. You see, Alabama gave me wonderful memories of precious time spent with my dad, and Alabama gave my some of our dearest friends this side of Heaven - the Spears family.
It all began when we met Allie.
We met Allie the year our oldest daughter, Hannah, was going from fifth grade into sixth grade. She was going to be a new student at Dalton Intermediate having only been in Ohio for a couple of years, coming from Kidron Elementary to Dalton Intermediate. Hannah was looking for friends to share in the new adventure of junior high, and that is when she met Allie. A mutual friend introduced the two girls, and they hit it off immediately.
As in most cases, our adult friendships piggy-back a lot on the friendships of our children. Maybe that’s because we simply don’t have enough time to make friends on our own. Maybe that’s because we have so much in common to begin with. Either way, we met Allie’s family soon after the girls became friends, and so began a new journey in our lives.
Allie’s parents, Jim and Ann, welcomed us into their lives with open arms. Their sweet, southern accent made me feel right at home and reminded me of the time I spent in Alabama many years ago. Being able to make the best sweet tea in the world has propelled Ann to be one of my favorite people to hang out with. Allie’s older sister, Autumn, has become a wonderful mentor for my girls, teaching them about how to be a young lady living for Christ. Autumn has even become the girl’s personal hair dresser when they get ready for homecoming dances.
We have all grown to adore the Spears family. They are kind, honest, hard-working and giving. Ann is the first person to bring my family a meal when I am under the weather. Jim jumps in and mentors Mike as a brother in Christ.
We have only known them for five years, but it seems like we have known them for a lifetime and I can’t imagine our lives without them.
I guess I owe it all to Alabama.
I may never see the entire world, nor have a banjo on my knee, but my heart gets to travel south every time I hang out with the Spears family.
And the sweet tea makes it even sweeter.
Posted by Trish Berg 5:59 AM 0 comments
Labels: Graphic Publications, The Bargain Hunter, Wooster Weekly News
Simple Little Words Mean a Lot
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
I love great big, unique words like elucidate, picturesque and luminosity. But as much as I love unique words, it is the simple little worlds that have changed my life, broken my heart, blessed my soul and made me who I am today.
"I love you" are some of the simplest words that have ever been spoken, yet probably the most important words we can ever share or hear. My mom told me that every day when I was little, and I know they soaked into my soul and I still feel them today.
When the doctor told me "It's broken," I knew that my ankle would keep me from playing on the varsity basketball team for the rest of my freshman season.
"Break up" definitely broke my heart when my high school sweetheart turned out to be not so sweet. "Come home" was soon met with "of course," as my mom welcomed me home again when I dropped out of Allegheny College and moved back home.
"Hi" was the first thing Mike said to me when I met him at Baldwin-Wallace College in, of all places, a statistics class, and that tiny little two letter word began a lifetime of love.
On a cool autumn night in 1989, the "I love you" he whispered in my ear had to be the sweetest words I have ever heard.
That was until two years later when he followed those little words with "Marry me."
And my "yes" had to be the smallest word I have ever spoken with the biggest meaning, three little letters that changed the direction of my life forever.
Of course, as a mom I was blessed to hear "It's a girl," three times over, and one "It's a boy" that surprised me beyond belief.
And in 1997, I got a phone call telling me "He's gone," and I was forced to say goodbye to my dad who died before I had really figured out how to love my dad.
“Ouch” is a small word that makes me come running as a mom and “Amen” ends all my prayers to my Lord.
“Goodbye” is never easy to hear no matter who is saying it, and “I have never quite understood how to say it well.
All these simple little words make up the mosaic of my life, all the colors, shades, joy and sorrow wrapped up in tiny little letters strung together to have meaning.
To say that words are important to me is an understatement. I love words. Words of all kinds. Big and little words alike. But it is the simple little words that have changed my life, broken my heart and blessed my soul.
And the "I love you," that comes from above has changed me even more than that.
Posted by Trish Berg 5:00 AM 2 comments
Labels: Graphic Publications, The Bargain Hunter, Wooster Weekly News
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