tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-58919645645626331862023-05-25T17:05:38.306-05:00Becky Yurisichhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04660433768817460711noreply@blogger.comBlogger51125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891964564562633186.post-77418978384613051742017-09-06T11:54:00.000-05:002017-09-06T12:26:19.379-05:00

The spoon clanged against the side of the serving bowl like church bell, as warm, gooey creamed corn splattered onto the dining room table. My brothers and I went silent, and my dad was frozen with the knowledge that we had just stepped on the last nerve of the Lady of the House. Our plates, filled to the edges with fried chicken, creamed corn, and mashed potatoes, weren’t enough to quell the

Becky Yurisichhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04660433768817460711noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891964564562633186.post-62801955487780184922016-04-25T15:51:00.000-05:002016-04-25T16:06:08.761-05:00

Catchy title, right? Try getting that one out of your head today. But 90’s rap isn’t why you’re here, so let’s get down to business! Mother’s Day is just thirteen short days away, and, like many people, you may be feeling lost as to what you’ll be purchasing for the mom(s) in your life. As a big-time bookworm, I believe you can never go wrong with a good book, so I

Becky Yurisichhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04660433768817460711noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891964564562633186.post-1419354266733995212016-04-21T11:25:00.000-05:002016-04-21T12:14:02.915-05:00

“You know you can’t have that one, it’s a two-piece.” “Um, no. Those are way too short.” “Spaghetti Straps? Think again.” If you shopped near Mak and I at Target, these are some of the things you would have overheard me saying repeatedly. Until a year ago, modesty was kind of a big deal around our house. Don’t get me wrong, knees and shoulders were exposed—we aren’t the

Becky Yurisichhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04660433768817460711noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891964564562633186.post-89979950356005709882016-03-29T15:12:00.001-05:002016-03-29T15:12:55.922-05:00

“Momma,” she peeked up from the passenger seat peering at me through heavy, dark lashes, “this Christmas isn’t very merry.” It was Christmas Eve. “I know, baby. I’m so sorry.” I held back tears just long enough to make it home. The oldest, the rock, the one who blooms no matter where the Army plants her, had finally had her fill.  And I couldn’t say anything but “I know.” It

Becky Yurisichhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04660433768817460711noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891964564562633186.post-6134385245401792972016-01-18T12:05:00.000-06:002016-01-18T12:05:14.569-06:00

I’ve been surrounded by boys my entire life. I grew up in a house full of them, then went on to marry and have a son. Through this experience, my life has become saturated with all things male: namely Transformers. My brothers all had them. My son has them. And, a couple of years ago, my in-laws mailed us a huge box of Transformers that used to belong to my husband. I’ve seen

Becky Yurisichhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04660433768817460711noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891964564562633186.post-55820110165996163942015-11-10T09:59:00.001-06:002015-11-10T09:59:15.402-06:00

I need to say this before my fingers type any more words: I love Jesus. This love has been transformational in my heart, and hopefully, in my words and deeds. I love Jesus so much, it feels powerful and life-giving and perfect. The reason I needed to say this first, is because what I’m going to say next is going to freak some Christ followers out: We need to quit making such a

Becky Yurisichhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04660433768817460711noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891964564562633186.post-69010230573066694972015-10-13T13:04:00.000-05:002015-10-13T13:18:08.627-05:00

The ball bounced off the rim, and I started to box out the girl behind me. I missed her, and we both went up for the rebound—bodies colliding, legs and elbows and hands all becoming one large mass as we battled for the ball just out of reach of our fingertips. That’s when I heard it. A popping sound, just as we came down with the ball. Our knees met as we made our descent, and her

Becky Yurisichhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04660433768817460711noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891964564562633186.post-30338000289401548182015-09-07T14:10:00.000-05:002015-09-07T14:10:51.294-05:00

A three year old on the beach. There’s nothing more precious, right? There’s something magical and beautiful about the unaffected wonder three year olds constantly possess. They’re invincible, infallible, enchanting. Three year olds are awesome. Last month, our family went to the beach, and over the week, I watched as G splashed in the waves, built wobbly sand castles, and took

Becky Yurisichhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04660433768817460711noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891964564562633186.post-10244178823731020702015-08-30T15:51:00.001-05:002015-08-30T15:51:47.193-05:00

“Friends, we have to know their story.” “Their story impacts the way they learn.” “Their story impacts their behavior.” Three words can define the two years I spent working under a principal who cared deeply about the kids in her school: “Know their story.” Whenever we had an issue with a student, we were reminded that what happened to them before they got to us mattered.

Becky Yurisichhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04660433768817460711noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891964564562633186.post-17728745876090160992015-08-18T08:12:00.000-05:002015-08-18T08:33:33.053-05:00

Today is FINALLY the day!!! It’s launch day for Jen Hatmaker’s new book For the Love:Fighting for Grace in a World of Impossible Standards!!! I’ve blogged and posted a few times about being on the Launch Team for this book, and I just can’t tell you what a fabulous and beautiful experience I’ve had sharing life with people around the globe.  We have prayed over, cheered for, and

Becky Yurisichhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04660433768817460711noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891964564562633186.post-87561609234492892622015-08-14T01:20:00.001-05:002015-08-14T01:32:41.082-05:00

Hello, Sweet Friends! This week, I’m trying something new! I’m participating in a link ups over at Mrs. Disciple and Empty Plate. Full Heart! Kelly and Andrea host these link ups every Friday, with their Friday Fives. This week’s “Five” are quotes from Jen Hatmaker’s new book, For theLove. There are TONS of thoughtful, poignant, funny, and wise quotes from the book, so I

Becky Yurisichhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04660433768817460711noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891964564562633186.post-43047752290965339972015-08-09T18:09:00.000-05:002015-08-09T18:09:02.150-05:00

Being an adult is ridiculously hard. I mean, one day, you’re in high school, smacking your gum and making out in cars, and the next, you’re thrown out into the world expected to pay bills and get out of your pajamas. Most days, I’m cool with adulting, but others—well, I just. CANNOT. deal. Now, let’s make things even more fun. You’ve sorta got this adult thing figured out, and

Becky Yurisichhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04660433768817460711noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891964564562633186.post-71269340426989013712015-07-28T16:56:00.004-05:002015-07-28T17:49:07.423-05:00

This is part two of a three part series on Micah 6:8. "He has shown you O mortal what is good. And what does the Lord require of you?  To act justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly before your God." I have a confession to make. This part, the love mercy part, is tough. Seek justice (piece of cake!) Love mercy (for everyone?) Walk humbly before your God. (I’ll try!)

Becky Yurisichhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04660433768817460711noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891964564562633186.post-91149102988225234862015-07-09T09:55:00.001-05:002015-07-09T09:55:11.091-05:00

Lean in close, so I can whisper something to you.  No really… get over here. You, my friend. Yes, you. You are a warrior. I know what you’re thinking. The kids have worn you down. Work has you running ragged. Family struggles are intense and emotionally draining. How are you a Warrior? But you rocked today. Today you got out of bed, put your feet on the floor and said “

Becky Yurisichhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04660433768817460711noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891964564562633186.post-28236950829156758242015-07-03T11:20:00.003-05:002015-07-05T16:35:27.734-05:00

This weekend, all of America will be lining sidewalks, gathering in backyards, and amassing in large, open (hopefully damp and nonflammable) spaces, to celebrate our freedom. Kids will be scurrying to round up candy thrown from parade floats, neighbors will host BBQs, and community members will collectively “oooh” and “aaah” over fireworks displays. I absolutely love Independence Day. As a

Becky Yurisichhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04660433768817460711noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891964564562633186.post-23759248440759005942015-06-21T16:50:00.001-05:002015-06-21T16:50:55.318-05:00

Dear Dad, I know you’ve heard this about a million times, but I love you. You and I aren’t always great with words. Mostly because whenever we try, we end up crying and making feeble attempts to avoid eye contact. We are experts at feigned stoicism. This year, I feel like you deserve more than a phone call and a random Facebook post. Because social media can’t possibly capture the

Becky Yurisichhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04660433768817460711noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891964564562633186.post-49777165750675459912015-06-15T13:27:00.000-05:002015-06-15T13:27:05.737-05:00

Yesterday, I turned thirty-three years old. This is actually impossible, because I’m really about twenty-five, but the year on the calendar says 2015, so it must be true. I’ve lived a somewhat weird and nomadic life following Joe all over the place, and doing pieces of my life in reverse order. And I’ve learned some stuff. Most of it is important, some is just hilarious. All of it is

Becky Yurisichhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04660433768817460711noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891964564562633186.post-51117701246868339192015-06-11T10:39:00.000-05:002015-06-11T10:40:12.321-05:00

Hi Friends. Election season is about to be upon us, and each day our Facebook walls and Twitter feeds are flooded with various political ads trashing one candidate or another. We see memes spewing hatred for people on government assistance, undocumented people living in our country, and gay people. None of these are remotely nice, not one is constructive, and many of them are shared by my

Becky Yurisichhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04660433768817460711noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891964564562633186.post-66168067093925895812015-06-09T17:02:00.000-05:002015-06-09T17:02:03.445-05:00

This is part one of a three part series on Micah 6:8. He has shown you O mortal what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly before your God. Act justly. Seek justice. Be JUST. Many versions of Micah 6:8 use justice in various ways, but the root word never changes. Just. Webster’s defines the word justice like this:

Becky Yurisichhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04660433768817460711noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891964564562633186.post-50393131139146009952015-05-28T13:49:00.000-05:002015-05-28T13:49:32.153-05:00

Messy. I swear, this is the best possible word to describe myself. If I look at my life at any moment, at least one aspect of it is a mess. My house is a mess, or my car is a mess, or our schedule is a mess, and even sometimes my marriage is a mess. In our house, we love hard, we play hard, we are messy. Parenting, marriage, and friendships aren’t wrapped up in packages with

Becky Yurisichhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04660433768817460711noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891964564562633186.post-52430902987465593342015-05-24T18:34:00.000-05:002015-05-24T18:39:25.879-05:00

You guys, I’m staring at my computer screen, looking at a bunch of half-written blogs, wondering if I should finish any of them or just hit delete. Not because they’re all crap; even though some of them are. But because I don’t know if I’m ready to share all of my super deep feelings with the whole world. And all of you. It’s been brought to my attention over the past couple of months that

Becky Yurisichhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04660433768817460711noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891964564562633186.post-20814474891282240712015-05-18T17:42:00.002-05:002015-05-18T17:42:24.927-05:00

Dear P, I know you hate it when we call you P, but you know, internet safety and all. So, sorry about that. I could have gone with Snuggle Monkey, but your friends would all make fun of you, so P it is. Nine years ago, you burst onto the scene a seven pound eleven ounce ball of fury. I fell in love with you instantly. I swear. Everything about you was handsome, and chubby, and precious.

Becky Yurisichhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04660433768817460711noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891964564562633186.post-37024444465362392222015-05-11T12:01:00.000-05:002015-05-11T12:06:33.870-05:00

Every so often, God places a word or phrase on my heart, and for a time, I focus on what He wants me to do in regard to that particular word. Earlier this year, my phrase was “Fear Not.” I’ve tried to live the past few months as fearlessly as I can, putting myself in situations that make me uncomfortable in order to build community, help others, or serve in some way. (Y’all, I went to dinner

Becky Yurisichhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04660433768817460711noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891964564562633186.post-42577731235591273902015-05-02T00:47:00.000-05:002015-05-02T10:37:53.162-05:00

Friends. Dear, Sweet Friends. This week, I cry for Baltimore.  For the family of Freddie Gray, who lost their son, and who are waiting on details of his death. I cry for the business owners, whose livelihoods have been compromised, for the peaceful protestors, who are attempting to create change in a country where the status quo goes unchallenged, and for the rioters who seem to feel

Becky Yurisichhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04660433768817460711noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5891964564562633186.post-75630751566590152342015-04-27T15:21:00.000-05:002015-04-27T15:21:55.372-05:00

Last week was a rough one for me. Friends, I can be an emotional person, but I usually tend to keep my “butt-hurt” on the inside. I try not to be overly sensitive when my family doesn’t give me the appreciation I feel I deserve, or when things aren’t going my way. Typically, I TRY (keyword there: TRY) to let God handle the things I can’t, and make the choice to treat everyone—even the kid

Becky Yurisichhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04660433768817460711noreply@blogger.com2