So on social media this week, another member of WriteOn Joliet, Maureen Blevins, asked women to post photos of themselves wearing Easter hats - and tagged me in that post.
Of course, with the world being in the midst of a pandemic, I'm sure (not) the most burning question in everyone's mind is, "Is Denise still wearing hats?"
So here's the answer to that question.
This morning Timothy and I headed out early so I could shoot videos of a Joliet pastor who was holding a brief Easter worship from his balcony.
Because of Maureen's challenge, I decided to wear a hat. I chose my newest one, from Timothy, ironically, which he brought back from South Carolina when he went down in late February for a wedding.
It's blue (my favorite color) and has a row of plastic shells around the brim (I love water).
But as I finished dressing, I realized how much of the resurrection was displayed in my choice of clothes.
The bracelet on my right is a gift from a good friend, and I wear it every day.
The bracelet on my left (hidden) is a gift from Rebekah. It's made of blue polished stones. My grandson Lucas (whom I most likely won't see this year) loves polishing rocks, as did my maternal grandfather, so this bracelet has a lot of meaning around my wrist.
The shirt and sweater came from Good Will shopping with Sarah and Rebekah last summer.
The shoes are new - and ones Rebekah picked out for me.
The necklace cost $5 years ago when we were in the midst of some family emergency and were losing our home.
We bought it at Jewel because the color and style really jumped out at me. When the chain fell apart, Rebekah placed it for me.
The white jeans have the best story of death and resurrection.
Two years ago while finishing a phone call and a cup of coffee before leaving for a meeting, the cup shattered, spilling its contents along my right leg.
Fortunately, I was not burned. I figured that was the end of the white jeans, but I soaked them in the bathroom sink, just in case our Laundry Witch Rebekah could work her magic on them.
If you can believe it, she did.
Rebekah got all the coffee out.
So the next day, I wore them again. I was working late before taking the week off for an at-home writing retreat.
By eight o'clock at night, I was dragging and not done. Timothy talked me into take a ride for Gloria Jean's coffee.
So I went.
But Gloria Jean's was out of coffee, so we headed to Panera. But Panera was out of dark roast, so we were asked to come back in fifteen minutes.
Timothy and I walked around the mall and came back for the nice hot coffee.
He safely carried the coffee all the way down the long parking lot where we had parked.
I got in the car, and he set the coffee into the cup holders.
But as he transferred the last cup to the holder, the lid fell off and the hot coffee wound up on my left leg.
He's screaming at me to take pants off (where was security, I ask you that. Nowhere!), just as I'm realizing the coffee had spilled on me (I didn't feel it at first).
I doused myself with a water bottle, and he ran back inside the mall for ice. He was gone four days (or so it seemed).
We went back to the house where Rebekah had come home from work sick and was in bed. I took off the white pants, put on shorts, grabbed an ice pack, and headed back to the car, where Timothy was taking me to Morris Hospital to treat the burns.
Here's the best part.
When we arrived at the hospital, the burns were gone. Completely. Not even a red flush.
The nurses had to come out and look. Nothing.
So we stopped at my son's house, and I ran around the yard with the grandchildren, catching fireflies and finding the Big Dipper.
The only sad part of the story is that all the coffee places were closed by the time we left.
And as you can see, Rebekah got all the coffee stains out, even though the entire left leg (and more) was completely soaked with coffee.
Christ is risen!
Of course, with the world being in the midst of a pandemic, I'm sure (not) the most burning question in everyone's mind is, "Is Denise still wearing hats?"
So here's the answer to that question.
This morning Timothy and I headed out early so I could shoot videos of a Joliet pastor who was holding a brief Easter worship from his balcony.
Because of Maureen's challenge, I decided to wear a hat. I chose my newest one, from Timothy, ironically, which he brought back from South Carolina when he went down in late February for a wedding.
It's blue (my favorite color) and has a row of plastic shells around the brim (I love water).
But as I finished dressing, I realized how much of the resurrection was displayed in my choice of clothes.
The bracelet on my right is a gift from a good friend, and I wear it every day.
The bracelet on my left (hidden) is a gift from Rebekah. It's made of blue polished stones. My grandson Lucas (whom I most likely won't see this year) loves polishing rocks, as did my maternal grandfather, so this bracelet has a lot of meaning around my wrist.
The shirt and sweater came from Good Will shopping with Sarah and Rebekah last summer.
The shoes are new - and ones Rebekah picked out for me.
The necklace cost $5 years ago when we were in the midst of some family emergency and were losing our home.
We bought it at Jewel because the color and style really jumped out at me. When the chain fell apart, Rebekah placed it for me.
The white jeans have the best story of death and resurrection.
Two years ago while finishing a phone call and a cup of coffee before leaving for a meeting, the cup shattered, spilling its contents along my right leg.
Fortunately, I was not burned. I figured that was the end of the white jeans, but I soaked them in the bathroom sink, just in case our Laundry Witch Rebekah could work her magic on them.
If you can believe it, she did.
Rebekah got all the coffee out.
So the next day, I wore them again. I was working late before taking the week off for an at-home writing retreat.
By eight o'clock at night, I was dragging and not done. Timothy talked me into take a ride for Gloria Jean's coffee.
So I went.
But Gloria Jean's was out of coffee, so we headed to Panera. But Panera was out of dark roast, so we were asked to come back in fifteen minutes.
Timothy and I walked around the mall and came back for the nice hot coffee.
He safely carried the coffee all the way down the long parking lot where we had parked.
I got in the car, and he set the coffee into the cup holders.
But as he transferred the last cup to the holder, the lid fell off and the hot coffee wound up on my left leg.
He's screaming at me to take pants off (where was security, I ask you that. Nowhere!), just as I'm realizing the coffee had spilled on me (I didn't feel it at first).
I doused myself with a water bottle, and he ran back inside the mall for ice. He was gone four days (or so it seemed).
We went back to the house where Rebekah had come home from work sick and was in bed. I took off the white pants, put on shorts, grabbed an ice pack, and headed back to the car, where Timothy was taking me to Morris Hospital to treat the burns.
Here's the best part.
When we arrived at the hospital, the burns were gone. Completely. Not even a red flush.
The nurses had to come out and look. Nothing.
So we stopped at my son's house, and I ran around the yard with the grandchildren, catching fireflies and finding the Big Dipper.
The only sad part of the story is that all the coffee places were closed by the time we left.
And as you can see, Rebekah got all the coffee stains out, even though the entire left leg (and more) was completely soaked with coffee.
Christ is risen!
