My life these days doesn't resemble much of what family life was around our house just a few years ago. With one grown child and one teen, homeschooling is over, and foster care is, too. Parts of the house are torn apart for remodeling, while other parts are packed with the stuff that used to sit in the rooms we're now working on. I call it the Construction Zone Look. With work and ministry and driving back and forth between appointments and obligations and staying connected with friends, our progress is oh, so slow. I look around and wonder what happened to my nice, orderly, quiet life.
But I'm often reminded that with growth comes change. Every living thing changes. Only dead things cease to grow. Some parts of my life are better than I'd ever hoped for, while some are not quite what I'd expected. Yet, I am content. That doesn't mean I'm not continually working at improving things--just that I can usually wake up each morning with gratitude and peace, knowing that I'm in the center of God's will, right here in the middle of nowhere. It took me a long time to reach this point, with a lot of growing and changing along the way.
For many years I dreamed of having an old house to fix up. I'd picture a two-story home on a tree-lined street somewhere back east. When we moved into this house, eventually we were able to start pulling out old carpet, tearing off faded wallpaper, and repainting, etc., etc. One room at a time... with weeks and months of time in between the various projects. We're still not even close to being done, but it's beginning to come together. I think.
A few times I fell on my knees and told God that if I was over-extending our reach beyond what is reasonable in "feathering our nest", then I was ready to stop. (We're very frugal in our purchases, and we do a lot of labor ourselves, or by trading jobs with friends.) But He gave me peace. And He's developing within me patient endurance in the process. Which is what I've needed, and what we all need in everyday life, in our dealings with others and in our walk of faith.
A paraphrase of Philippians 1:6 says that we can be confident that God's work of molding us into His image is being accomplished and will continue for as long as we live.
Saturday, September 03, 2011
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Every Life Precious
“Here in Camelot we believe every life is precious,” said Arthur the king, to Lancelot in the movie, “First Knight.”
January has been a month to celebrate life.
January 1 – New Year's Day has often been depicted as an infant wearing a sash that bears the inscription of the new year's date.
January 11 - Less than three weeks ago, Miep Gies passed away at the age of 100. She was the woman who defied Nazis by hiding Anne Frank and her family during the war. Having saved the girl's diary, she gave it to Mr. Frank, who had it published years later.
January 18 – Martin Luther King, Jr. Day is the annual remembrance of a man who believed in equality for all people of every color.
January 18 – Last year President Bush signed the proclamation, saying, “All human life is a gift from our Creator that is sacred, unique and worthy of protection... including every person waiting to be born... The sanctity of life is written in the hearts of all men and women...” This is National Sanctity of Human Life Day.
January 24 – Sanctity of Life Sunday was celebrated by church congregations all over the country.
January 27 – In 1945 Nazi Germany's largest concentration and extermination camp, Auschwitz, was liberated by Soviet troops.
January 29 – Holocaust Memorial Day has been recognized now for 65 years.
There is one historic date I neglected to highlight in my list, for obvious reasons:
January 22, 1973—the day when abortion legally became a fundamental right under the United States Constitution.
Pro-abortion arguments include this statement:
“It's not a baby. It's a fetus—a blob of tissue.”
That's funny. “Fetus” comes from a Latin word meaning, “a developing mammal; offspring, bringing forth, or hatching of young.”
If you think it's not a baby, you've been grossly misinformed.
Richard Weikart has spent many years studying the idea of evolution, and where it can lead when when taken to its logical conclusion. He and his wife have seven children and live in Merced County. Weikart is a Professor of History at California State University, Stanislaus; he's a Fellow for the Discovery Institute, and the author of numerous articles and books.
Weikart writes about men of the past who denied the sanctity of life—and how that concept framed their thinking. His most recent book is: Hitler's Ethic: The Nazi Pursuit of Evolutionary Process. (For more information, visit: www.discovery.org.)
If human life is no more precious than road-kill lying in the dirt along the highways we drive on, then anything goes in the realm of deciding who should live and who should not. And men, women and governments play God as laws are instituted to take away life.
Ideas have consequences. This was true in the past. History is replete with instances of legal and illegal massacres, from Bosnia's “ethnic cleansing” to China's “holocaust of little girls” to America's own 50-million-plus abortions these past 30-some years.
Yet, ideas continue to have consequences today.
If left to its own devices, one small country in the Middle East (Iran) plans to eradicate another small country (Israel).
Sounds like bullies on a school playground—only worse.
Following World War II, Americans turned their enemies into friends. Many Germans who had been placed in POW camps across our country returned to America for visits, and some came to live here. The United States is so known for valuing life, that we not only forgive our enemies—we help them recover from the devastating conflicts they began.
Around the world, many share Weikart's sentiments. Our voices, though, aren't usually the ones that get heard in the roar of, “It's not about life. It's about choice.”
You're sensible people. The facts are out there, just waiting to be researched.
As for me, I choose life.
(Facts and figures noted here were taken from several publications and Web sites, including those associated with Richard Weikart, and Tom Hilditch, English-born, Hong Kong-based writer, editor and publisher.)
January has been a month to celebrate life.
January 1 – New Year's Day has often been depicted as an infant wearing a sash that bears the inscription of the new year's date.
January 11 - Less than three weeks ago, Miep Gies passed away at the age of 100. She was the woman who defied Nazis by hiding Anne Frank and her family during the war. Having saved the girl's diary, she gave it to Mr. Frank, who had it published years later.
January 18 – Martin Luther King, Jr. Day is the annual remembrance of a man who believed in equality for all people of every color.
January 18 – Last year President Bush signed the proclamation, saying, “All human life is a gift from our Creator that is sacred, unique and worthy of protection... including every person waiting to be born... The sanctity of life is written in the hearts of all men and women...” This is National Sanctity of Human Life Day.
January 24 – Sanctity of Life Sunday was celebrated by church congregations all over the country.
January 27 – In 1945 Nazi Germany's largest concentration and extermination camp, Auschwitz, was liberated by Soviet troops.
January 29 – Holocaust Memorial Day has been recognized now for 65 years.
There is one historic date I neglected to highlight in my list, for obvious reasons:
January 22, 1973—the day when abortion legally became a fundamental right under the United States Constitution.
Pro-abortion arguments include this statement:
“It's not a baby. It's a fetus—a blob of tissue.”
That's funny. “Fetus” comes from a Latin word meaning, “a developing mammal; offspring, bringing forth, or hatching of young.”
If you think it's not a baby, you've been grossly misinformed.
Richard Weikart has spent many years studying the idea of evolution, and where it can lead when when taken to its logical conclusion. He and his wife have seven children and live in Merced County. Weikart is a Professor of History at California State University, Stanislaus; he's a Fellow for the Discovery Institute, and the author of numerous articles and books.
Weikart writes about men of the past who denied the sanctity of life—and how that concept framed their thinking. His most recent book is: Hitler's Ethic: The Nazi Pursuit of Evolutionary Process. (For more information, visit: www.discovery.org.)
If human life is no more precious than road-kill lying in the dirt along the highways we drive on, then anything goes in the realm of deciding who should live and who should not. And men, women and governments play God as laws are instituted to take away life.
Ideas have consequences. This was true in the past. History is replete with instances of legal and illegal massacres, from Bosnia's “ethnic cleansing” to China's “holocaust of little girls” to America's own 50-million-plus abortions these past 30-some years.
Yet, ideas continue to have consequences today.
If left to its own devices, one small country in the Middle East (Iran) plans to eradicate another small country (Israel).
Sounds like bullies on a school playground—only worse.
Following World War II, Americans turned their enemies into friends. Many Germans who had been placed in POW camps across our country returned to America for visits, and some came to live here. The United States is so known for valuing life, that we not only forgive our enemies—we help them recover from the devastating conflicts they began.
Around the world, many share Weikart's sentiments. Our voices, though, aren't usually the ones that get heard in the roar of, “It's not about life. It's about choice.”
You're sensible people. The facts are out there, just waiting to be researched.
As for me, I choose life.
(Facts and figures noted here were taken from several publications and Web sites, including those associated with Richard Weikart, and Tom Hilditch, English-born, Hong Kong-based writer, editor and publisher.)
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Bonding With My Girl, and My Girlfriends
I'm an old fashioned mom who likes modern conveniences.
Take for instance, Zip-lock bags:
I can freeze in them, store in them, and collect sea shells and pine cones in them...
They're convenient, and they're washable.
Yes, I wash my plastic bags.
As a self-employed, stay-at-home, home school mom, the budget tends to be tight around here, so we practice recycling, not to save the planet, but to save our pennies.
Yet, more than that, I value the training and nurturing of my kids, more than pursuing a career. There will be time for that later. Right now my family and my home are the priority.
Believe it or not, other technological wonders called cell phones, laptops and Facebook have all found a way into our lives, even in our old fashioned, country home... Because these are the things that help us stay connected. When they aren't used as the sole means of communication, that is.
This week I got a message from an old friend, saying that she'd like to re-connect with me. We went to high school together. She got married shortly after graduation, and I was married the following June—in her wedding dress—my “something borrowed.” Our husbands had motorcycles, so we'd go riding together through the Arizona deserts.
Then, we moved, and lost touch. That was close to 30 years ago. But this week she found me on FB.
I sent my BFF in Santa Fe a message on FB the other night. She called me yesterday so we could catch up, and we talked for about an hour (while I walked on the treadmill).
My sister and I have become a lot closer since being on FB. She was born when I was almost seven, so we weren't real close growing up. Marriage and kids gave us something in common, but we still weren't close. Now we chat on our computers. “How's Mom? Did Mike get a new job yet? How are things with you at work? Are the kids making friends at their new schools?” Things like that... Whereas we were too busy to pick up the phone, or perhaps, because she's on the phone a lot during the day, or whatever, we just didn't call much. But, with us both sitting at our pc's during the day, it's so easy to get on FB and find out what's going on in each other's lives.
Our son just finished his second week of OCS with the USMC—only seven weeks to go. I said something in my status about how he's doing, and that if anyone wants his address, to let me know. My sis responded with, “Of course, I want his address, Goofball!” We're able to talk to each other using the keyboard, just like we would in person. I gave her a hard time for calling me “Goofball,” and then I sent her his address.
With our son at Quantico for the time being, all his worldly belongings—except for one change of civilian clothes—are being kept here. Including his wireless laptop, which he gave us permission to use. Yes!
So, now, when I'm sitting at my pc in the back of the house, my girl sits with her brother's laptop in the front part of the house (after her school work, chores and piano practice is done, of course). If she sees me on FB, I always get a note from her, telling me what she's doing or asking a question.
Why doesn't she just get up and walk the ten yards or so to talk to me? Because she's a teen, and it's more convenient—and fun, even—to communicate this way. She's a writer, too, and she sends me these cute smiley faces. She takes the quizzes by answering questions; she told me what some of the questions are, and asked how she should answer one.
“Do you have to answer it?”
“No. I skipped it.”
“Smart girl.”
“Yeah, some of the questions are dumb, so I just skip them.”
“Good. You need to be honest when Dad and I ask you questions. But with strangers, it's better not to bare your soul. You can be evasive, like Danielle in Everafter... 'I'm visiting my cousin... Which one?... The only one I have.'”
We're careful about who her friends are and what games she can play. Someone invited her to play CafeWorld, so now she's cooking on FB. Last night while we made zucchini muffins, she told me about the dishes she's preparing in her FB cafe. Another time this week I chatted with one of her friends while my daughter sat beside me. We had a three-way conversation.
And last night we piled the pillows on my bed and watched the Hannah Montana movie on the laptop, in 11 parts on YouTube, nestled there together with the puppy sleeping between us. Eventually, my sweet teen's head was leaning on my shoulder. It was a memory-making event.
But really, the whole day was full of memories that will keep us bonded for a lifetime.
Thanks to a laptop and FB.
Take for instance, Zip-lock bags:
I can freeze in them, store in them, and collect sea shells and pine cones in them...
They're convenient, and they're washable.
Yes, I wash my plastic bags.
As a self-employed, stay-at-home, home school mom, the budget tends to be tight around here, so we practice recycling, not to save the planet, but to save our pennies.
Yet, more than that, I value the training and nurturing of my kids, more than pursuing a career. There will be time for that later. Right now my family and my home are the priority.
Believe it or not, other technological wonders called cell phones, laptops and Facebook have all found a way into our lives, even in our old fashioned, country home... Because these are the things that help us stay connected. When they aren't used as the sole means of communication, that is.
This week I got a message from an old friend, saying that she'd like to re-connect with me. We went to high school together. She got married shortly after graduation, and I was married the following June—in her wedding dress—my “something borrowed.” Our husbands had motorcycles, so we'd go riding together through the Arizona deserts.
Then, we moved, and lost touch. That was close to 30 years ago. But this week she found me on FB.
I sent my BFF in Santa Fe a message on FB the other night. She called me yesterday so we could catch up, and we talked for about an hour (while I walked on the treadmill).
My sister and I have become a lot closer since being on FB. She was born when I was almost seven, so we weren't real close growing up. Marriage and kids gave us something in common, but we still weren't close. Now we chat on our computers. “How's Mom? Did Mike get a new job yet? How are things with you at work? Are the kids making friends at their new schools?” Things like that... Whereas we were too busy to pick up the phone, or perhaps, because she's on the phone a lot during the day, or whatever, we just didn't call much. But, with us both sitting at our pc's during the day, it's so easy to get on FB and find out what's going on in each other's lives.
Our son just finished his second week of OCS with the USMC—only seven weeks to go. I said something in my status about how he's doing, and that if anyone wants his address, to let me know. My sis responded with, “Of course, I want his address, Goofball!” We're able to talk to each other using the keyboard, just like we would in person. I gave her a hard time for calling me “Goofball,” and then I sent her his address.
With our son at Quantico for the time being, all his worldly belongings—except for one change of civilian clothes—are being kept here. Including his wireless laptop, which he gave us permission to use. Yes!
So, now, when I'm sitting at my pc in the back of the house, my girl sits with her brother's laptop in the front part of the house (after her school work, chores and piano practice is done, of course). If she sees me on FB, I always get a note from her, telling me what she's doing or asking a question.
Why doesn't she just get up and walk the ten yards or so to talk to me? Because she's a teen, and it's more convenient—and fun, even—to communicate this way. She's a writer, too, and she sends me these cute smiley faces. She takes the quizzes by answering questions; she told me what some of the questions are, and asked how she should answer one.
“Do you have to answer it?”
“No. I skipped it.”
“Smart girl.”
“Yeah, some of the questions are dumb, so I just skip them.”
“Good. You need to be honest when Dad and I ask you questions. But with strangers, it's better not to bare your soul. You can be evasive, like Danielle in Everafter... 'I'm visiting my cousin... Which one?... The only one I have.'”
We're careful about who her friends are and what games she can play. Someone invited her to play CafeWorld, so now she's cooking on FB. Last night while we made zucchini muffins, she told me about the dishes she's preparing in her FB cafe. Another time this week I chatted with one of her friends while my daughter sat beside me. We had a three-way conversation.
And last night we piled the pillows on my bed and watched the Hannah Montana movie on the laptop, in 11 parts on YouTube, nestled there together with the puppy sleeping between us. Eventually, my sweet teen's head was leaning on my shoulder. It was a memory-making event.
But really, the whole day was full of memories that will keep us bonded for a lifetime.
Thanks to a laptop and FB.
Friday, September 18, 2009
The Bathroom Saga Continues...
I started fixing up our Victorian bathroom in early July. Our latest foster son was back with his dad, and #1 girl was off to camp. So, I had a whole week to myself to spend hours cleaning and scraping and painting and re-decorating--which I love.
Except when things don't go according to plan, as was the case here. The cleaning went fine; the scraping and repairing went fine; then I cleaned up some more, and textured the walls, which went fine, too. Choosing the right paint colors took more time than I planned, but I finally got that settled. By this time, #1 girl was back home from camp, and my free time was limited once more. (I was also writing as much as I could, to pay for my re-decorating project.)
So, here it is the end of summer, and we're still working on the bathroom...
I bought some wood trim to put up at the top of the walls where they meet--or are supposed to meet--the ceiling (crown molding, I think it's called), but it wasn't the right size. So, I had to wait another week until the next trip to the valley, since we live in the boon-docks, and no longer have a home improvement store down the street, as we did when we lived in the city... which is another reason why this project has taken so long, with the waiting until next week intervals in between each step of attempted progress...
Eventually we bought wider trim, and borrowed a special saw to cut the angles. But the saw didn't work right. So I got all the pieces painted, and they're still sitting, waiting to be put up. At some point we also decided to re-surface the ceiling with sheet rock, so the ceiling and walls would actually meet, or at least be closer together. So, that's done, too, now.
We still need to find someone with a good saw, and then we can get things finished, including getting more plumbing for the tub, since we rearranged it's position (it's a claw-foot tub), to give us more room. (One ceiling is angled, as the stairs to the attic are right above.)
Soo-ooo-oo...
I found some antique prints--actually faded pages from old books and catalogs--and got some cheap black wood frames, for my wall art collages. I painted a white lamp black and re-painted the towel bars black. And the outside of the tub is black. With ivory wainscoting and soft yellow walls, and a black/off-white checkerboard tile-look floor...
I'm still working on new lighting, but that's soon to come, too. Then, I can clean up the mess, and enjoy our bathroom! How I love (the idea of) re-decorating--and especially the results of re-decorating.
Except when things don't go according to plan, as was the case here. The cleaning went fine; the scraping and repairing went fine; then I cleaned up some more, and textured the walls, which went fine, too. Choosing the right paint colors took more time than I planned, but I finally got that settled. By this time, #1 girl was back home from camp, and my free time was limited once more. (I was also writing as much as I could, to pay for my re-decorating project.)
So, here it is the end of summer, and we're still working on the bathroom...
I bought some wood trim to put up at the top of the walls where they meet--or are supposed to meet--the ceiling (crown molding, I think it's called), but it wasn't the right size. So, I had to wait another week until the next trip to the valley, since we live in the boon-docks, and no longer have a home improvement store down the street, as we did when we lived in the city... which is another reason why this project has taken so long, with the waiting until next week intervals in between each step of attempted progress...
Eventually we bought wider trim, and borrowed a special saw to cut the angles. But the saw didn't work right. So I got all the pieces painted, and they're still sitting, waiting to be put up. At some point we also decided to re-surface the ceiling with sheet rock, so the ceiling and walls would actually meet, or at least be closer together. So, that's done, too, now.
We still need to find someone with a good saw, and then we can get things finished, including getting more plumbing for the tub, since we rearranged it's position (it's a claw-foot tub), to give us more room. (One ceiling is angled, as the stairs to the attic are right above.)
Soo-ooo-oo...
I found some antique prints--actually faded pages from old books and catalogs--and got some cheap black wood frames, for my wall art collages. I painted a white lamp black and re-painted the towel bars black. And the outside of the tub is black. With ivory wainscoting and soft yellow walls, and a black/off-white checkerboard tile-look floor...
I'm still working on new lighting, but that's soon to come, too. Then, I can clean up the mess, and enjoy our bathroom! How I love (the idea of) re-decorating--and especially the results of re-decorating.
One Hundred Years From Now
Last year after we lost Micah, a close friend gave me a framed picture of a baby, with this saying on it:
One hundred years from now
it will not matter
what kind of house we lived in,
how much money we had,
nor what my clothes were like.
But the world may be a little better,
because I was important
in the life of a child.
Maybe you've seen this before, but it's a good reminder. Especially as friends and relatives all around us lose jobs and cars and homes...
People are what matter, and relationships are what matter. It's pretty simple, but our stuff only matters as it relates to our relationships with our people--or "peeps" as one friend calls us. Jobs and cars and houses and clothes and e-toys will come and go. But my family is the priority, as far as earthly possessions are concerned.
Our family has been together for 30 years. We may not look like much, with only two kids and a few pets, a handful of old cars that we drive until dead, clothes and furnishings mostly from yard sales and thrift stores, an old neglected farmhouse that still needs lots of TLC, and lots of jobs and moves and detours along the way...
But the point is that we're together. We vowed to stay with each other through thick and thin, richer or poorer, in sickness and health, and till death do us part. At times it's been a rocky road, but those are the times when we held on tighter, to each other and to the Lord.
Paul said that he had learned to be content, in whatever condition he was in. And I have learned that God is still an awesome God, when my 'fridge and freezer are full, and when they're close to empty. God has me and my loved ones in the palm of His mighty and loving hands--the same hands with the nail prints. And my life is a puff of steam compared to eternity.
Only what's done for Him will last. That's why I strive to use as much of each day as I can, to point someone to the Holy One and to a life of holiness.
Please, Lord, be exalted in my life and in my husband's and children's lives today.
One hundred years from now
it will not matter
what kind of house we lived in,
how much money we had,
nor what my clothes were like.
But the world may be a little better,
because I was important
in the life of a child.
Maybe you've seen this before, but it's a good reminder. Especially as friends and relatives all around us lose jobs and cars and homes...
People are what matter, and relationships are what matter. It's pretty simple, but our stuff only matters as it relates to our relationships with our people--or "peeps" as one friend calls us. Jobs and cars and houses and clothes and e-toys will come and go. But my family is the priority, as far as earthly possessions are concerned.
Our family has been together for 30 years. We may not look like much, with only two kids and a few pets, a handful of old cars that we drive until dead, clothes and furnishings mostly from yard sales and thrift stores, an old neglected farmhouse that still needs lots of TLC, and lots of jobs and moves and detours along the way...
But the point is that we're together. We vowed to stay with each other through thick and thin, richer or poorer, in sickness and health, and till death do us part. At times it's been a rocky road, but those are the times when we held on tighter, to each other and to the Lord.
Paul said that he had learned to be content, in whatever condition he was in. And I have learned that God is still an awesome God, when my 'fridge and freezer are full, and when they're close to empty. God has me and my loved ones in the palm of His mighty and loving hands--the same hands with the nail prints. And my life is a puff of steam compared to eternity.
Only what's done for Him will last. That's why I strive to use as much of each day as I can, to point someone to the Holy One and to a life of holiness.
Please, Lord, be exalted in my life and in my husband's and children's lives today.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
The Great Paint Debate (And Once In Awhile There's Gonna Be A Dud)
I am still painting the bathroom.
Well, actually, I am typing away at my p.c.,
But in my mind, I am painting,
And have been painting for the past three weeks.
In between all my other responsibilities, that is.
Yes, I am slow, but not that slow.
You see, fixing up the bathroom involved more than two cans of paint.
First I scraped the old texture off the walls,
Not only because it was an eye-sore,
But also because the pointy bumps all over the walls
Had a way of catching lint,
And giving spiders a field day for spinning their webs.
It was a pain to keep clean.
So I got rid of it.
Surprisingly, it wasn't as hard as I thought it would be,
Thanks to my handyman hubby.
After scraping, then I had to wash down the walls,
Use wood putty to fill in holes and cracks in the wainscoting,
Re-texture the walls, and sand everything down,
(Washing and sweeping again).
Then I taped around all the edges,
Decided the clawfoot tub was way too close to both walls,
And spent too much time trying to figure out how I would paint around it.
Also found a leak in the pipes under/behind the pedestal sink.
Handyman hubby to the rescue!
"We've been wanting to turn it around anyway,
So let me see what I can do," he said.
He tore the sink pipes apart and moved it away from the wall,
And did the same to the tub.
I hugged him,
And blessed God for one problem solved.
By this time I had spent every free minute--
Lying awake at night, included--
Trying to decide on colors.
Being the overly-sensitive, artistic, perfectionistic and
Split-personality-ish sort of person I am
(I'll explain that another time),
This was the hardest part of all.
Paint chips of various shades of soft yellow and ivory were taped all over the walls,
And I viewed them often, at varying times of the day and night,
Trying to decide on just the right shades and combination...
Give me any job to tackle
And I'll dive right in.
But ask me, "What color?"
Or, "Which one will go where?"
And I freeze.
(Don't ask me why. I'm still trying to figure this out.)
In the deep recesses of my soul,
I know what I want.
I have dozens of pictures pulled from magazines,
And piles of decorating books with my favorite pages bookmarked.
Mentally I can see the end result so clearly.
And Martha Stewart does it all so easily!
But translating that into my reality
Is akin to giving birth:
There's the initial thought,
Then conception, and the waiting
With slow and silent growing,
The anticipation, while saving every nickel and dime;
Then finally the day arrives--Oh, No! It's time!
And I go to work;
But when the contractions start,
And I want to run;
It's painful, agonizing, and really, really messy,
But awe-inspiring at the same time;
There are grunts and groans,
And still the pressure of this dirty job;
Finally I just push--
"Okay, I'll choose this color"--
And a new baby--I mean, bathroom--is born!
But it doesn't look quite the way I had envisioned.
So I go back to my collection of paint chips,
And start the decision process all over again.
(This isn't exactly how it works when a baby is born,
But you get the idea. Although, it's sort of like it,
With the precious bundle needing to be cleaned up a little, and all.)
Back to the Bathroom...
Creamy, buttery yellow walls with ivory wainscoting.
Sounds simple. But it's not.
The colors and their names don't always fit,
And what looks wonderful on a 2-inch by 3-inch card
Can look nauseating when it's surrounding you,
And drowning you
In this yellow-ish sort of pea soup feeling...
Okay, I decided. The ceiling should definitely not be yellow.
So, I painted that ivory.
Aah-hh... Much better.
But it's still too yellow, somehow,
And not creamy enough.
(I wanted a creamy yellow or a yellow-ish cream color--
Not too yellow, but not too creamy, if that makes sense.)
And, dear me, now I'm in danger of using too many parentheses,
Like one Merced Sun-Star reader accused me of this past weekend.
"Your writing style would be much better if you didn't use so many (...)'s--
I counted eight of them in your column. Were you trying to fill up space?
Just trying to help."
Yes, my writing is suffering, too.
Thanks for the reminder.
I'll look it up online and refrain from using so many (...)'s.
Once in awhile there's gonna be a dud, another columnist said.
The trick is, not to put out too many duds,
Or I'll be out of a job.
And then there won't be any money to spend on decorating.
Hm-mm... It's a little tempting:
I could resign myself to living with somebody else's idea of dreamy home decor
(The kitchen wallpaper is black with pink flowers,
And the ceiling and cabinets and trim are all pink!
The Victorian-style bathroom was just white,
A little decrepit and in dire need of some TLC.)
Or I can push ahead, plow through the mess, and keep trying.
No, I've lived with another woman's "dream" house for over six years.
It's time to put my heart's fingerprints on it.
As I said earlier, back to the bathroom...
By this time, our daughter was back from camp,
And the bathroom she uses was still a mess,
As was--and still is--the back of the house.
My hubby liked the yellow, and she did, too.
"Yes, it's bright and cheerful,
But it's not the right shade," I insisted.
When somebody walks into the bathroom,
I don't want the first thing they notice to be the yellow walls.
The first thing they notice should be the beauty of how everything in the room flows together;
Creating within them a feeling of grace and nostalgia.
Then they'll notice the colors and the fixtures
And the pictures adorning the walls...
That's what I'm attempting here.
More glitches--
The mini-chandelier needs glass shades--
So far, no luck in finding the right ones--
And the other light fixture Ie bought was defective,
So that's packed up and waiting to be returned to the store.
Since the ivory paint from my other bathroom was the right shade
For this bathroom,
So I decided to make an easy choice and use it.
But for some reason it wasn't thick enough.
(I don't know why it worked fine before,
But it's not working now,
So back to LOWE's we go.)
There are those (...)'s again.
Better quality paint meant looking at paint chips
To find the closest ivory color--again.
I finally found one,
while conversing with another customer at the paint desk who said,
"My wife likes the color I don't like,
And I like the one she doesn't like.
So I'm here to find something in between."
Yep. Welcome to the wonderful world of decorating!
Back home I made a decision:
I'll just rummage through my odd cans of leftover paint,
Find a creamy white, and start adding it to the yellow
To soften the shade.
I've done this before,
As I have this habit of not choosing the right color at the start.
If I were a professional decorator, I'd be doing this all the time,
After getting my degree, of course,
And it wouldn't be so hard.
But, I'm a believer and a survivor,
And not a quitter.
(When it's all done, I'll take pictures and post them.
Hopefully, by the end of this year.)
There are those darn (...)'s again!
Well, actually, I am typing away at my p.c.,
But in my mind, I am painting,
And have been painting for the past three weeks.
In between all my other responsibilities, that is.
Yes, I am slow, but not that slow.
You see, fixing up the bathroom involved more than two cans of paint.
First I scraped the old texture off the walls,
Not only because it was an eye-sore,
But also because the pointy bumps all over the walls
Had a way of catching lint,
And giving spiders a field day for spinning their webs.
It was a pain to keep clean.
So I got rid of it.
Surprisingly, it wasn't as hard as I thought it would be,
Thanks to my handyman hubby.
After scraping, then I had to wash down the walls,
Use wood putty to fill in holes and cracks in the wainscoting,
Re-texture the walls, and sand everything down,
(Washing and sweeping again).
Then I taped around all the edges,
Decided the clawfoot tub was way too close to both walls,
And spent too much time trying to figure out how I would paint around it.
Also found a leak in the pipes under/behind the pedestal sink.
Handyman hubby to the rescue!
"We've been wanting to turn it around anyway,
So let me see what I can do," he said.
He tore the sink pipes apart and moved it away from the wall,
And did the same to the tub.
I hugged him,
And blessed God for one problem solved.
By this time I had spent every free minute--
Lying awake at night, included--
Trying to decide on colors.
Being the overly-sensitive, artistic, perfectionistic and
Split-personality-ish sort of person I am
(I'll explain that another time),
This was the hardest part of all.
Paint chips of various shades of soft yellow and ivory were taped all over the walls,
And I viewed them often, at varying times of the day and night,
Trying to decide on just the right shades and combination...
Give me any job to tackle
And I'll dive right in.
But ask me, "What color?"
Or, "Which one will go where?"
And I freeze.
(Don't ask me why. I'm still trying to figure this out.)
In the deep recesses of my soul,
I know what I want.
I have dozens of pictures pulled from magazines,
And piles of decorating books with my favorite pages bookmarked.
Mentally I can see the end result so clearly.
And Martha Stewart does it all so easily!
But translating that into my reality
Is akin to giving birth:
There's the initial thought,
Then conception, and the waiting
With slow and silent growing,
The anticipation, while saving every nickel and dime;
Then finally the day arrives--Oh, No! It's time!
And I go to work;
But when the contractions start,
And I want to run;
It's painful, agonizing, and really, really messy,
But awe-inspiring at the same time;
There are grunts and groans,
And still the pressure of this dirty job;
Finally I just push--
"Okay, I'll choose this color"--
And a new baby--I mean, bathroom--is born!
But it doesn't look quite the way I had envisioned.
So I go back to my collection of paint chips,
And start the decision process all over again.
(This isn't exactly how it works when a baby is born,
But you get the idea. Although, it's sort of like it,
With the precious bundle needing to be cleaned up a little, and all.)
Back to the Bathroom...
Creamy, buttery yellow walls with ivory wainscoting.
Sounds simple. But it's not.
The colors and their names don't always fit,
And what looks wonderful on a 2-inch by 3-inch card
Can look nauseating when it's surrounding you,
And drowning you
In this yellow-ish sort of pea soup feeling...
Okay, I decided. The ceiling should definitely not be yellow.
So, I painted that ivory.
Aah-hh... Much better.
But it's still too yellow, somehow,
And not creamy enough.
(I wanted a creamy yellow or a yellow-ish cream color--
Not too yellow, but not too creamy, if that makes sense.)
And, dear me, now I'm in danger of using too many parentheses,
Like one Merced Sun-Star reader accused me of this past weekend.
"Your writing style would be much better if you didn't use so many (...)'s--
I counted eight of them in your column. Were you trying to fill up space?
Just trying to help."
Yes, my writing is suffering, too.
Thanks for the reminder.
I'll look it up online and refrain from using so many (...)'s.
Once in awhile there's gonna be a dud, another columnist said.
The trick is, not to put out too many duds,
Or I'll be out of a job.
And then there won't be any money to spend on decorating.
Hm-mm... It's a little tempting:
I could resign myself to living with somebody else's idea of dreamy home decor
(The kitchen wallpaper is black with pink flowers,
And the ceiling and cabinets and trim are all pink!
The Victorian-style bathroom was just white,
A little decrepit and in dire need of some TLC.)
Or I can push ahead, plow through the mess, and keep trying.
No, I've lived with another woman's "dream" house for over six years.
It's time to put my heart's fingerprints on it.
As I said earlier, back to the bathroom...
By this time, our daughter was back from camp,
And the bathroom she uses was still a mess,
As was--and still is--the back of the house.
My hubby liked the yellow, and she did, too.
"Yes, it's bright and cheerful,
But it's not the right shade," I insisted.
When somebody walks into the bathroom,
I don't want the first thing they notice to be the yellow walls.
The first thing they notice should be the beauty of how everything in the room flows together;
Creating within them a feeling of grace and nostalgia.
Then they'll notice the colors and the fixtures
And the pictures adorning the walls...
That's what I'm attempting here.
More glitches--
The mini-chandelier needs glass shades--
So far, no luck in finding the right ones--
And the other light fixture Ie bought was defective,
So that's packed up and waiting to be returned to the store.
Since the ivory paint from my other bathroom was the right shade
For this bathroom,
So I decided to make an easy choice and use it.
But for some reason it wasn't thick enough.
(I don't know why it worked fine before,
But it's not working now,
So back to LOWE's we go.)
There are those (...)'s again.
Better quality paint meant looking at paint chips
To find the closest ivory color--again.
I finally found one,
while conversing with another customer at the paint desk who said,
"My wife likes the color I don't like,
And I like the one she doesn't like.
So I'm here to find something in between."
Yep. Welcome to the wonderful world of decorating!
Back home I made a decision:
I'll just rummage through my odd cans of leftover paint,
Find a creamy white, and start adding it to the yellow
To soften the shade.
I've done this before,
As I have this habit of not choosing the right color at the start.
If I were a professional decorator, I'd be doing this all the time,
After getting my degree, of course,
And it wouldn't be so hard.
But, I'm a believer and a survivor,
And not a quitter.
(When it's all done, I'll take pictures and post them.
Hopefully, by the end of this year.)
There are those darn (...)'s again!
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
The Workings of My Romantic Home & Garden Story
I just finished my story for the paper. This one was a thrill to write, as I got to visit a gorgeous home that looks like something from the English countryside--which happens to be my dream place to live.
A couple used their construction and decorating skills to build and furnish their home, surrounding it with lush grass, trees, ivy, herbs, flowers, and a vegetable garden. And I enjoyed every minute of my time spent there, getting ideas, of course, for our own humble, fixer-upper, country home, besides doing the interviews for the story. (I also met the professional designer and photographer while they did a photo shoot for a magazine! What fun!)
The lady of the home mentioned afterward that what we see in the magazines is not actually how people really live. I've thought about that, too.
I've come to the conclusion that I was born in the wrong century and the wrong place. I love old England, with it's beauty, genteel manners and slower pace.
I even subscribed to "Victoria" magazine shortly after it came out, but stopped after a year or two, because I realized that the pictures were "styled" and made to look a certain way. I love the finery and beauty of yesteryear, but only the wealthy could afford the lacy linens and velvet-trimmed clothing. (And they had maids to take care of it all.) In these modern times, I try to incorporate some of that into my home decor, but only as my budget and lifestyle allow. (My family doesn't like tripping over pretty things, and my daughter admitted that she's a little clumsy, and wouldn't feel comfortable for fear she'd turn around and break something.)
After six years of living in my dream house here, I still have a few unpacked boxes in the attic. I've been waiting for the chance to paint the living room and kitchen. I also need to scrape the ceilings (to remove the "popcorn" texture which only attracts spiders and cobwebs), re-texture some walls and paint several pieces of furniture. I'm desperately wanting to use my creativity this summer to decorate our home. My mind is bulging with ideas, and my hands are itching to get to work!
The featured home of my story was filled to overflowing with all the beautiful things I love, and almost everything was covered with roses: painted on canvases, printed on fabrics, stamped on dishes, and arranged in vases to scent the air. It was very hard not to covet.
The owner does have a yard sale occasionally to lessen the overflow, and she asked what things I'd be looking for, so I told her. She finds things cheaply at yard sales and junk shops, and assured me her prices would be reasonable (to cover her investment). So I'm saving a few dollars for the next time she's selling her stuff.
Then I think of the stuff, and remember that that's all it is. Just stuff. Someday it's gonna burn, and we'll be ushered into eternity. I know that every tea cup and each dresser scarf and all the other "pretties" that grace (and sometimes clutter) my home are only temporal. They will not last. And the time and expense that I put into decorating is not lasting, either.
On the other hand, The Virtuous Woman of Proverbs 31 cared for her family and built her home with love and good taste.
God has given some of us an eye for beauty and the creative skill to make our house a home. I thought about interior decorating as a career, long ago before married family life. But I decided against it, choosing instead to spend the bulk of my life in a ministry capacity, helping others prepare for eternity.
There's nothing more satisfying that introducing a person to Jesus Christ, or teaching them what His Word says about a particular subject. And I have many opportunities to do these things on a regular basis.
But as God is the great Creator and we have been made in His image, I, too, in my everyday existence on this earth, use my hands and heart to bring beauty to my surroundings, wherever I am and however I can. Whether it's using my words to minister grace to the hearers, or giving a hug to one who's sad and struggling, I want not only my home to be beautiful, but my life to be a thing of beauty, as well.
I'm certainly not the possessor of a face that will be found on the covers of fashion magazines, but that's okay. Most of us do not possess the looks for that. But if we possess the Savior abiding within us, He can and will make us beautiful. With His love and light and joy and peace, as we walk with Him closely and spend time with Him intimately, His beauty will be seen on our faces and in all that we do and say.
God's Word says that whatever we do should be done for His glory, and whatever my hands find to do, the work should be done with all of my might.
As long as I am not being frivolous or neglecting an area of need, I can spend a little time in thrift stores looking for "treasures" to decorate my home. Where the world says, "If you love it, buy it--you'll find a place for it eventually," my God is saying to me, "All these things the Gentiles seek after. Seek Me first, and I will add these things to you." He wants me to keep the right perspective in my shopping and decorating.
When we give Him first place with our time and money, He keeps His promise in providing for us. I cannot refrain from supporting missionaries, only so I can afford more transferware, or because I'm tired of the wallpaper in a bedroom. Living on one income (plus a few dollars more from writing) is not easy, especially with gas prices inching their way up again, and inflation foretold by the media. But I will continue being faithful to my calling, and pray our way through the days and months ahead, knowing that God is preparing a dwelling place for me in His Heavenly home.
A couple used their construction and decorating skills to build and furnish their home, surrounding it with lush grass, trees, ivy, herbs, flowers, and a vegetable garden. And I enjoyed every minute of my time spent there, getting ideas, of course, for our own humble, fixer-upper, country home, besides doing the interviews for the story. (I also met the professional designer and photographer while they did a photo shoot for a magazine! What fun!)
The lady of the home mentioned afterward that what we see in the magazines is not actually how people really live. I've thought about that, too.
I've come to the conclusion that I was born in the wrong century and the wrong place. I love old England, with it's beauty, genteel manners and slower pace.
I even subscribed to "Victoria" magazine shortly after it came out, but stopped after a year or two, because I realized that the pictures were "styled" and made to look a certain way. I love the finery and beauty of yesteryear, but only the wealthy could afford the lacy linens and velvet-trimmed clothing. (And they had maids to take care of it all.) In these modern times, I try to incorporate some of that into my home decor, but only as my budget and lifestyle allow. (My family doesn't like tripping over pretty things, and my daughter admitted that she's a little clumsy, and wouldn't feel comfortable for fear she'd turn around and break something.)
After six years of living in my dream house here, I still have a few unpacked boxes in the attic. I've been waiting for the chance to paint the living room and kitchen. I also need to scrape the ceilings (to remove the "popcorn" texture which only attracts spiders and cobwebs), re-texture some walls and paint several pieces of furniture. I'm desperately wanting to use my creativity this summer to decorate our home. My mind is bulging with ideas, and my hands are itching to get to work!
The featured home of my story was filled to overflowing with all the beautiful things I love, and almost everything was covered with roses: painted on canvases, printed on fabrics, stamped on dishes, and arranged in vases to scent the air. It was very hard not to covet.
The owner does have a yard sale occasionally to lessen the overflow, and she asked what things I'd be looking for, so I told her. She finds things cheaply at yard sales and junk shops, and assured me her prices would be reasonable (to cover her investment). So I'm saving a few dollars for the next time she's selling her stuff.
Then I think of the stuff, and remember that that's all it is. Just stuff. Someday it's gonna burn, and we'll be ushered into eternity. I know that every tea cup and each dresser scarf and all the other "pretties" that grace (and sometimes clutter) my home are only temporal. They will not last. And the time and expense that I put into decorating is not lasting, either.
On the other hand, The Virtuous Woman of Proverbs 31 cared for her family and built her home with love and good taste.
God has given some of us an eye for beauty and the creative skill to make our house a home. I thought about interior decorating as a career, long ago before married family life. But I decided against it, choosing instead to spend the bulk of my life in a ministry capacity, helping others prepare for eternity.
There's nothing more satisfying that introducing a person to Jesus Christ, or teaching them what His Word says about a particular subject. And I have many opportunities to do these things on a regular basis.
But as God is the great Creator and we have been made in His image, I, too, in my everyday existence on this earth, use my hands and heart to bring beauty to my surroundings, wherever I am and however I can. Whether it's using my words to minister grace to the hearers, or giving a hug to one who's sad and struggling, I want not only my home to be beautiful, but my life to be a thing of beauty, as well.
I'm certainly not the possessor of a face that will be found on the covers of fashion magazines, but that's okay. Most of us do not possess the looks for that. But if we possess the Savior abiding within us, He can and will make us beautiful. With His love and light and joy and peace, as we walk with Him closely and spend time with Him intimately, His beauty will be seen on our faces and in all that we do and say.
God's Word says that whatever we do should be done for His glory, and whatever my hands find to do, the work should be done with all of my might.
As long as I am not being frivolous or neglecting an area of need, I can spend a little time in thrift stores looking for "treasures" to decorate my home. Where the world says, "If you love it, buy it--you'll find a place for it eventually," my God is saying to me, "All these things the Gentiles seek after. Seek Me first, and I will add these things to you." He wants me to keep the right perspective in my shopping and decorating.
When we give Him first place with our time and money, He keeps His promise in providing for us. I cannot refrain from supporting missionaries, only so I can afford more transferware, or because I'm tired of the wallpaper in a bedroom. Living on one income (plus a few dollars more from writing) is not easy, especially with gas prices inching their way up again, and inflation foretold by the media. But I will continue being faithful to my calling, and pray our way through the days and months ahead, knowing that God is preparing a dwelling place for me in His Heavenly home.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Tortuga and Transylvania
I think it's time to talk about vampire babies and pirate-y things.
I was in the grocery store recently, and while waiting in line a lady ahead of me was showing everyone her vampire baby doll--complete with little fangs, piercing eyes and a bottle full of red liquid--fake blood, of course.
"I make dolls," she said. "And my granddaughter asked for a vampire baby doll." She was grinning from ear to ear, while everyone else "Oo-oo-ed" and "Aa-ah-ed".
You know, it's really not my intent to go through life making enemies by pointing out the dangers in things that appear harmless. But God's Word does say a lot about the need for Christians to use discernment. Do we want our sons to be foolish boys or our daughters to be silly girls? All is not well in the world of Disney or Hollywood, and as Christians, much of what parades across the silver screen today is stupid, worthless, evil or all of the above.
Allow me to explain.
We'll start with a short history lesson about the infamous "Tortuga". This Caribbean island (featured in recently popular Disney movies) has a history awash with thievery, slavery, fraud and mismanagement (which prompted the slaves to revolt), plus continual disagreements and fights between the French and English colonists. There were also multiple attacks by the Spaniards. As a buccaneer hideout, it was known for drinking, gambling, homosexuality, prostitution (the females were actually brought there to reduce the homosexual activity), and other vices. It was inhabited mostly by privateers and pirates.
In describing Tortuga, this historic quote was given: "Not all men seek rest and peace; some are born with the spirit of the storm in their blood, restless harbingers of violence and bloodshed, knowing no other path." (from The Stalker of the Sands [The Savage Sword of Conan, the Barbarian].
Another place of ill repute in the 17th century was Port Royal on the island of Jamaica. Known as the center of shipping commerce and a haven for pirates, it gained the reputation as both the "richest and wickedest city in the world."
Twenty percent of the businesses were brothels, gaming houses (casinos), taverns and grog (liquor) shops. Rich and poor alike were consumed with satisfying their fleshly desires, and those who could lived sumptuously.
On June 7, 1692, though, every thing changed. A terrible earthquake which instantly transformed the landscape was recognized by "commentators on both sides of the Atlantic", as evidence of God's judgment on the wickedness. Boston Puritan clergyman called the town "the Tyrus of the whole English America". Thousands died either from the earthquake or from injuries and disease related to the catastrophe. (Many were swallowed whole by the earth as the ocean and sand mixed together, forming a type of deadly quagmire that solidified, strangling bodies whose heads were still above ground. Graves were also opened up by the quake, and hundreds of corpses floated along the shoreline.)
Jack Sparrow is good for a few laughs, and a wooden eyeball provides some wholesome humor; and Will Turner and Elizabeth Swann make hearts beat a little faster, for those with romantic tendencies. But the entire premise, remember, is the pirate code: Take all you can and give nothing back. Not to mention the fact that Disney portrays it all as harmless, adventurous and even glamorous fun.
In the past and now in the present many stories about witches, warlocks, vampires and other characters from the dark side make light of or encourage the evil in-fluences around us.
It's been noted that what's shown on television and in movies during one generation will become the norm for the next generation. Unfortunately because America over the years has pushed God out of our schools, government and society in general, the average person lives with a huge spiritual void, and is desperately seeking some-thing to fill it.
...what fellowship hath righteousness with unrighteousness? and what communion hath light with darkness? ...for ye are the temple of the living God... Wherefore come out from among them, and be ye separate, saith the Lord, and touch not the unclean thing: and I will receive you." - II Cor. 6:14-17
Lot learned the hard way how easily carnal allurements can turn hearts away from all that's holy.
And before anyone cries out "Legalist", again, let me explain.
I'm not saying you'll lose your salvation if you watch a movie with vampires or pirates in it. (And just for the record, the term "Legalism" comes from Paul's epistle to the Galatians, having to do with working for one's salvation--not maintaining standards of separation and holiness, to keep us unspotted by the world.)
What I am saying is that as Christians, who are pilgrims on the path of light and truth, we must exercise discernment in all our activities.
Whether therefore ye eat, or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of God. - I Cor. 10:31
Enter not into the path of the wicked, and go not in the way of evil men. Avoid it, pass not by it, turn from it... But the path of the just is as the shining light... The way of the wicked is as darkness: they know not at what they stumble. - Prov. 4: 14-19
We are blessed with the opportunity to feast at God's table of provision for every need and want, yet many of us prefer to rummage through the trash dumpster in some back alley, looking for a tiny morsel of something edible. How foolish we are sometimes.
The world has no understanding of what a pure mind or a clear conscience feels like. And it's hard to convince somebody there's a better way when we're laughing at the same jokes, immersed in the same mindset, or stained by the same filth.
Allowing ourselves to be entertained by this stuff has become so common even among Christians, that anyone who chooses not to watch or doesn't allow their children to participate in watching, is viewed as "pious", by other believers. They're ridiculed and made to feel ashamed when trying to take a stand, instead of being supported.
Besides the fact that spending hours in front of a movie screen (be it in a theater or at home) is a waste of precious time, filling our minds with the world's philosophies (and worse, allowing our children's minds to be filled and shaped by the same) is simply not wise. Not to mention (again) that we're laughing at the foolishness/evil/debauchery that's being portrayed.
I'd like to close with a passage that says it plainly:
But fornication, and all uncleanness, or covetousness, let it not be once named among you, as becometh saints;
Neither filthiness, nor foolish talking, nor jesting, which are not convenient: but rather giving of thanks.
For this ye know, that no whoremonger, nor unclean person, nor covetous man, who is an idolater, hath any inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and of God...
...for because of these things cometh the wrath of God upon the children of disobedience. Be not ye therefore partakers with them
For ye were sometimes darkness, but now are ye light in the Lord: walk as children of light:
(For the fruit of the Spirit is in all goodness and righteousness and truth;)
Proving what is acceptable unto the Lord.
And have no fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness, but rather reprove them.
For it is a shame even to speak of those things which are done of them in secret...
See then that ye walk circumspectly (using caution and good judgment), not as fools, but as wise, Redeeming the time, because the days are evil.
Wherefore be ye not unwise, but understanding what the will of the Lord is. - Eph. 5:3-17
* * * * * * * * * *
"The world can be saved by one thing and that is worship. For to worship is to quicken the conscience by the holiness of God, to feed the mind with the truth of God, to purge the imagination by the beauty of God, to open the heart to the love of God, to devote the will to the purpose of God.
-- William Temple
I was in the grocery store recently, and while waiting in line a lady ahead of me was showing everyone her vampire baby doll--complete with little fangs, piercing eyes and a bottle full of red liquid--fake blood, of course.
"I make dolls," she said. "And my granddaughter asked for a vampire baby doll." She was grinning from ear to ear, while everyone else "Oo-oo-ed" and "Aa-ah-ed".
You know, it's really not my intent to go through life making enemies by pointing out the dangers in things that appear harmless. But God's Word does say a lot about the need for Christians to use discernment. Do we want our sons to be foolish boys or our daughters to be silly girls? All is not well in the world of Disney or Hollywood, and as Christians, much of what parades across the silver screen today is stupid, worthless, evil or all of the above.
Allow me to explain.
We'll start with a short history lesson about the infamous "Tortuga". This Caribbean island (featured in recently popular Disney movies) has a history awash with thievery, slavery, fraud and mismanagement (which prompted the slaves to revolt), plus continual disagreements and fights between the French and English colonists. There were also multiple attacks by the Spaniards. As a buccaneer hideout, it was known for drinking, gambling, homosexuality, prostitution (the females were actually brought there to reduce the homosexual activity), and other vices. It was inhabited mostly by privateers and pirates.
In describing Tortuga, this historic quote was given: "Not all men seek rest and peace; some are born with the spirit of the storm in their blood, restless harbingers of violence and bloodshed, knowing no other path." (from The Stalker of the Sands [The Savage Sword of Conan, the Barbarian].
Another place of ill repute in the 17th century was Port Royal on the island of Jamaica. Known as the center of shipping commerce and a haven for pirates, it gained the reputation as both the "richest and wickedest city in the world."
Twenty percent of the businesses were brothels, gaming houses (casinos), taverns and grog (liquor) shops. Rich and poor alike were consumed with satisfying their fleshly desires, and those who could lived sumptuously.
On June 7, 1692, though, every thing changed. A terrible earthquake which instantly transformed the landscape was recognized by "commentators on both sides of the Atlantic", as evidence of God's judgment on the wickedness. Boston Puritan clergyman called the town "the Tyrus of the whole English America". Thousands died either from the earthquake or from injuries and disease related to the catastrophe. (Many were swallowed whole by the earth as the ocean and sand mixed together, forming a type of deadly quagmire that solidified, strangling bodies whose heads were still above ground. Graves were also opened up by the quake, and hundreds of corpses floated along the shoreline.)
Jack Sparrow is good for a few laughs, and a wooden eyeball provides some wholesome humor; and Will Turner and Elizabeth Swann make hearts beat a little faster, for those with romantic tendencies. But the entire premise, remember, is the pirate code: Take all you can and give nothing back. Not to mention the fact that Disney portrays it all as harmless, adventurous and even glamorous fun.
In the past and now in the present many stories about witches, warlocks, vampires and other characters from the dark side make light of or encourage the evil in-fluences around us.
It's been noted that what's shown on television and in movies during one generation will become the norm for the next generation. Unfortunately because America over the years has pushed God out of our schools, government and society in general, the average person lives with a huge spiritual void, and is desperately seeking some-thing to fill it.
...what fellowship hath righteousness with unrighteousness? and what communion hath light with darkness? ...for ye are the temple of the living God... Wherefore come out from among them, and be ye separate, saith the Lord, and touch not the unclean thing: and I will receive you." - II Cor. 6:14-17
Lot learned the hard way how easily carnal allurements can turn hearts away from all that's holy.
And before anyone cries out "Legalist", again, let me explain.
I'm not saying you'll lose your salvation if you watch a movie with vampires or pirates in it. (And just for the record, the term "Legalism" comes from Paul's epistle to the Galatians, having to do with working for one's salvation--not maintaining standards of separation and holiness, to keep us unspotted by the world.)
What I am saying is that as Christians, who are pilgrims on the path of light and truth, we must exercise discernment in all our activities.
Whether therefore ye eat, or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of God. - I Cor. 10:31
Enter not into the path of the wicked, and go not in the way of evil men. Avoid it, pass not by it, turn from it... But the path of the just is as the shining light... The way of the wicked is as darkness: they know not at what they stumble. - Prov. 4: 14-19
We are blessed with the opportunity to feast at God's table of provision for every need and want, yet many of us prefer to rummage through the trash dumpster in some back alley, looking for a tiny morsel of something edible. How foolish we are sometimes.
The world has no understanding of what a pure mind or a clear conscience feels like. And it's hard to convince somebody there's a better way when we're laughing at the same jokes, immersed in the same mindset, or stained by the same filth.
Allowing ourselves to be entertained by this stuff has become so common even among Christians, that anyone who chooses not to watch or doesn't allow their children to participate in watching, is viewed as "pious", by other believers. They're ridiculed and made to feel ashamed when trying to take a stand, instead of being supported.
Besides the fact that spending hours in front of a movie screen (be it in a theater or at home) is a waste of precious time, filling our minds with the world's philosophies (and worse, allowing our children's minds to be filled and shaped by the same) is simply not wise. Not to mention (again) that we're laughing at the foolishness/evil/debauchery that's being portrayed.
I'd like to close with a passage that says it plainly:
But fornication, and all uncleanness, or covetousness, let it not be once named among you, as becometh saints;
Neither filthiness, nor foolish talking, nor jesting, which are not convenient: but rather giving of thanks.
For this ye know, that no whoremonger, nor unclean person, nor covetous man, who is an idolater, hath any inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and of God...
...for because of these things cometh the wrath of God upon the children of disobedience. Be not ye therefore partakers with them
For ye were sometimes darkness, but now are ye light in the Lord: walk as children of light:
(For the fruit of the Spirit is in all goodness and righteousness and truth;)
Proving what is acceptable unto the Lord.
And have no fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness, but rather reprove them.
For it is a shame even to speak of those things which are done of them in secret...
See then that ye walk circumspectly (using caution and good judgment), not as fools, but as wise, Redeeming the time, because the days are evil.
Wherefore be ye not unwise, but understanding what the will of the Lord is. - Eph. 5:3-17
* * * * * * * * * *
"The world can be saved by one thing and that is worship. For to worship is to quicken the conscience by the holiness of God, to feed the mind with the truth of God, to purge the imagination by the beauty of God, to open the heart to the love of God, to devote the will to the purpose of God.
-- William Temple
Monday, June 15, 2009
Life Here Lately
I'm doing more writing for the Sun-Star now, so when I get some free time, I'm not as anxious to sit down and write on one of my blogs. I'd rather work in the garden or go online looking for good Christian music (of which I found a whole lot today--I even ordered some).
Yet writing does have its advantages. The pay isn't much, but the people I meet are fascinating... I get in free to events... I'm developing relationships with people whose paths would not typically cross mine... and I'm learning a lot about the history of this area. Oh, and the experience is tremendous--it'll look good on my resume someday, if I ever need to pull one together.
For instance, besides the moonbows, which is still my favorite story thus far...
There's always something happening locally with the Arts Council or the Symphony, and with Yosemite being practically in our backyard, there's stuff going on up there all the time...
(My #1 girl and I drove a little ways today, with our puppy along for the ride, to take a walk on a country road we haven't explored yet. Once we got past the range of hills in the way, we could see a small part of the Park--the back of Half Dome, we've been told. It was so far away, but still so beautiful.)
I went rock climbing this past weekend, and I've recently visited a romantic country home and garden that will be featured in a magazine soon. (I met the designer and photographer, too--both are from L.A. and are exceptional!)
The ideas and opportunities keep coming, which is good for business.
On another note:
I am a frustrated decorator these days. A cross between Martha Stewart & Mary Engelbreit, but with no time (and not a lot of cash, with gas prices up again) to put my creativity to use in my own home. I want to paint furniture, finish a cross-stitch piece I started a couple years ago, re-arrange some rooms, hang wallpaper, sew some curtains, and more. But it just ain't happenin'...
Some friends of ours though, are excited about their new home, after losing their old one to the Telegraph Fire last summer. Three large parts of one very spacious mobile home are sitting on their property this week waiting to be put together, so they can move in and enjoy the views they've loved for a couple decades now. The Lord provided above and beyond what they expected, and I'm so happy for them!
Our Christian school had its graduation last night. Only a handful of kids, but the service went well, and people were blessed. Afterwards there was cake and fellowship outside, and it was good to have time to chat with so many friends.
The wildflowers this year are fading in the lower areas, but still colorful in the higher elevations. Our weather is unseasonably cool, but the mountains are getting extra rain, which CA needs, so we're not complaining. (Except that the rain makes the rocks and trails at YNP more slippery, and there have been a few casualties lately. Too sad.)
With summer so close, our little tree frogs are starting to show up. A couple of them are on the window beside my desk tonight. I'm watching their under-bellies as they move around to gobble up the juicy bugs flying around them outside. (Never a dull moment here in the country.)
I think I'm losing the battle with the bugs, though... I guess it was inevitable. There are more cobwebs in the corners than there have been since before we moved in, I think. Plus, there are not only spiders living in the cobwebs, there are a few bugs wrapped up in those webs, awaiting their turn for dinner--actually to become dinner. (It's way past time to do some cleaning around here!)
Our little foster child is with his dad now, for a trial extended visit. So we can relax a bit, and enjoy the peace and quiet. We'll also see what God has in mind for us after this adventure.
It's my bedtime, but I still have work to do, so I'll close up here, and write some more elsewhere.
Yet writing does have its advantages. The pay isn't much, but the people I meet are fascinating... I get in free to events... I'm developing relationships with people whose paths would not typically cross mine... and I'm learning a lot about the history of this area. Oh, and the experience is tremendous--it'll look good on my resume someday, if I ever need to pull one together.
For instance, besides the moonbows, which is still my favorite story thus far...
There's always something happening locally with the Arts Council or the Symphony, and with Yosemite being practically in our backyard, there's stuff going on up there all the time...
(My #1 girl and I drove a little ways today, with our puppy along for the ride, to take a walk on a country road we haven't explored yet. Once we got past the range of hills in the way, we could see a small part of the Park--the back of Half Dome, we've been told. It was so far away, but still so beautiful.)
I went rock climbing this past weekend, and I've recently visited a romantic country home and garden that will be featured in a magazine soon. (I met the designer and photographer, too--both are from L.A. and are exceptional!)
The ideas and opportunities keep coming, which is good for business.
On another note:
I am a frustrated decorator these days. A cross between Martha Stewart & Mary Engelbreit, but with no time (and not a lot of cash, with gas prices up again) to put my creativity to use in my own home. I want to paint furniture, finish a cross-stitch piece I started a couple years ago, re-arrange some rooms, hang wallpaper, sew some curtains, and more. But it just ain't happenin'...
Some friends of ours though, are excited about their new home, after losing their old one to the Telegraph Fire last summer. Three large parts of one very spacious mobile home are sitting on their property this week waiting to be put together, so they can move in and enjoy the views they've loved for a couple decades now. The Lord provided above and beyond what they expected, and I'm so happy for them!
Our Christian school had its graduation last night. Only a handful of kids, but the service went well, and people were blessed. Afterwards there was cake and fellowship outside, and it was good to have time to chat with so many friends.
The wildflowers this year are fading in the lower areas, but still colorful in the higher elevations. Our weather is unseasonably cool, but the mountains are getting extra rain, which CA needs, so we're not complaining. (Except that the rain makes the rocks and trails at YNP more slippery, and there have been a few casualties lately. Too sad.)
With summer so close, our little tree frogs are starting to show up. A couple of them are on the window beside my desk tonight. I'm watching their under-bellies as they move around to gobble up the juicy bugs flying around them outside. (Never a dull moment here in the country.)
I think I'm losing the battle with the bugs, though... I guess it was inevitable. There are more cobwebs in the corners than there have been since before we moved in, I think. Plus, there are not only spiders living in the cobwebs, there are a few bugs wrapped up in those webs, awaiting their turn for dinner--actually to become dinner. (It's way past time to do some cleaning around here!)
Our little foster child is with his dad now, for a trial extended visit. So we can relax a bit, and enjoy the peace and quiet. We'll also see what God has in mind for us after this adventure.
It's my bedtime, but I still have work to do, so I'll close up here, and write some more elsewhere.
The Bus Driver
(We read this in our devotions tonight from the "Our Daily Bread" booklet--too good not to share it with others.)
In the middle of carting 70 pieces of luggage, an electronic piano, and other equipment through airports and on and off a tour bus, it's easy to wonder, "Why are we doing this?"
Taking 28 teenagers on an 11-day ministry trip to a land across the ocean is not easy. But at the end of the trip our bus driver, who had carted us all over England and Scotland, grabbed the bus microphone, and in tears thanked the kids for how wonderful they had been. Then after we got home, he e-mailed us to say how much he appreciated the thank you cards the kids had written to him--many of which contained the gospel.
Although the students ministered to hundreds through song during the trip, perhaps it was the bus driver who most benefited from their Christ-likeness. In Ephesians we are told to be imitators of God and to walk in love (Eph. 5:1-2). Others see God in us when we show love to one another (I John 4:12). The bus driver saw Jesus in the students and told them they might just convert him to faith in Christ. Maybe it was for this man that we took the trip.
Why do you do what you do? Whose life are you affecting? Sometimes it's not our target audience that we impact most. Sometimes it's the bus drivers of the world.
(By Dave Branon)
In the middle of carting 70 pieces of luggage, an electronic piano, and other equipment through airports and on and off a tour bus, it's easy to wonder, "Why are we doing this?"
Taking 28 teenagers on an 11-day ministry trip to a land across the ocean is not easy. But at the end of the trip our bus driver, who had carted us all over England and Scotland, grabbed the bus microphone, and in tears thanked the kids for how wonderful they had been. Then after we got home, he e-mailed us to say how much he appreciated the thank you cards the kids had written to him--many of which contained the gospel.
Although the students ministered to hundreds through song during the trip, perhaps it was the bus driver who most benefited from their Christ-likeness. In Ephesians we are told to be imitators of God and to walk in love (Eph. 5:1-2). Others see God in us when we show love to one another (I John 4:12). The bus driver saw Jesus in the students and told them they might just convert him to faith in Christ. Maybe it was for this man that we took the trip.
Why do you do what you do? Whose life are you affecting? Sometimes it's not our target audience that we impact most. Sometimes it's the bus drivers of the world.
(By Dave Branon)
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Laundry and Legos--Jeremy's Home!
Not much has changed in 20 years.
Our son is home for awhile before heading to the east coast for another adventure--this one's called the "Marines".
And things are pretty much the same as they were when he lived with us all those years ago...
Eating voraciously, and enjoying every bite (he's storing up before ten weeks of chow hall grub);
Listening to his favorite music (it used to be Patch the Pirate and Veggie Tales--now it's Rascal Flatts and Lincoln Brewster; although he and his sis were singing along with Bob and Larry yesterday);
Playing his guitar (the Marine Hymn and other praise and worship songs);
Filling his hamper with dirty laundry (the clothes are a lot bigger than they used to be, but he's got good taste);
Reading good books to challenge his intellect (currently a volume with three of Tolstoy's works);
Laughing and making us laugh (with voice imitations, jokes and just his unique way of looking at things);
Eager to help with man-sized work, and ready to play ball at a moment's notice (he's got to expend all that energy somehow);
Arguing with his sister (or mother or father or whomever happens to disagree with him; he likes to be right, but he's not too proud to admit when he's not);
Looking through the photo album with his baby pictures, and remembering all the good things in life ("I really did have a happy childhood," he told me this morning. "Playing Cowboys and Indians with my cousins, going here and there...");
Putting his arm around his mom (now his frame is of the 6-foot variety instead of the 3- and 4-foot kind), and telling me not to fret, because we're all diamonds in the rough in some way, and whatever we didn't do right, is okay;
And lastly, being grateful (he's a good mix of toughness and tenderness; knows how to appreciate beauty, goodness and truth in their many forms).
We sat at the table eating lunch together today. It was like sitting with my dad. Jeremy is so much like him, and if he were still around, I think he would be proud of his grandson.
Our son is home for awhile before heading to the east coast for another adventure--this one's called the "Marines".
And things are pretty much the same as they were when he lived with us all those years ago...
Eating voraciously, and enjoying every bite (he's storing up before ten weeks of chow hall grub);
Listening to his favorite music (it used to be Patch the Pirate and Veggie Tales--now it's Rascal Flatts and Lincoln Brewster; although he and his sis were singing along with Bob and Larry yesterday);
Playing his guitar (the Marine Hymn and other praise and worship songs);
Filling his hamper with dirty laundry (the clothes are a lot bigger than they used to be, but he's got good taste);
Reading good books to challenge his intellect (currently a volume with three of Tolstoy's works);
Laughing and making us laugh (with voice imitations, jokes and just his unique way of looking at things);
Eager to help with man-sized work, and ready to play ball at a moment's notice (he's got to expend all that energy somehow);
Arguing with his sister (or mother or father or whomever happens to disagree with him; he likes to be right, but he's not too proud to admit when he's not);
Looking through the photo album with his baby pictures, and remembering all the good things in life ("I really did have a happy childhood," he told me this morning. "Playing Cowboys and Indians with my cousins, going here and there...");
Putting his arm around his mom (now his frame is of the 6-foot variety instead of the 3- and 4-foot kind), and telling me not to fret, because we're all diamonds in the rough in some way, and whatever we didn't do right, is okay;
And lastly, being grateful (he's a good mix of toughness and tenderness; knows how to appreciate beauty, goodness and truth in their many forms).
We sat at the table eating lunch together today. It was like sitting with my dad. Jeremy is so much like him, and if he were still around, I think he would be proud of his grandson.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
That's What Neighbors Are For
When we first moved in, our neighbors were relieved to see us mowing the lawn and keeping up with general maintenance around the place. The previous occupants hadn't done that.
Another neighbor sent her kids down the road pulling an old red wagon filled with good things--to welcome us to the neighborhood. We'd only been here a week or two, and I had spent the day shopping in Merced for some much-needed items. When I got home, on the table sat dinner--from the children's wagon--and a note from a stranger who became an instant friend. I'll always remember the meal that night: a hearty beef stew, homemade bread and applesauce canned by her own hands in her cozy, country kitchen.
One neighbor used to work in Yosemite, and knows a lot about the native vegetation. Once in awhile he'll show up at our door with a pot of herbs or a fruit tree seedling for our garden. He and other friends and neighbors have shared their iris bulbs with us. Six years ago, the lawn was full of weeds, with only a flower or two. But now there are flowers in abundance. I like to think of it as my "friendship garden."
Occasionally I call the neighbor on the phone. "Um-mm... There's a snake outside, right by the door, and I don't know what kind it is. Do you think you could come over and help me get rid of it?" I ask. He's retired, and doesn't mind the interruption. I'm finally learning which snakes are good ones (they keep down the gopher and mouse population), and which ones aren't. But I still jump a little whenever I see one.
We had to put our dog down three years ago, after having him for close to twelve. Our neighbors put theirs down, too. We can sympathize. Then last year we got a pug. They got a pug, too, and now our pugs are neighbors! The other day there was a message on the answering machine. "If you guys aren't doing anything later this afternoon, Rosie would like some company," the voice said. So after lunch we put Maddie's harness and leash on, and went for a walk--to visit Rosie. What a great time they had!
While there, the wife told me about some health issues that have been bothering her. I hadn't known. "Oh, you should've called me," I said, and gave her a hug. She looked at me like I'd scolded her. "You know how we are. We like to think we're not really getting old," she replied. I still asked her to let me know if she ever needs anything in the future. Then I made a mental note to call her more often, and take her a loaf of bread soon, too.
Yesterday, while walking with Maddie (our pug) to the post office, we stopped to chat with another neighbor. We talked about our gardens, her cows and the recent thunderstorm. She also has some dogs, and bent down to ask Maddie how she's been doing. Then she asked about our neighbors and their pug, which led me to tell her of the recent illness. She, too said she needed to call there soon.
There's a house for rent down the road, and another neighbor's house is for sale. Can't help but wonder what kind of neighbors we'll get.
Ronald Reagan believed in small government and kind neighbors. (I'm reading Nancy's book, My Turn.) He didn't believe that government should step in to do what neighbors can do for each other.
Life is pretty peaceful out here in the country, but we still have our share of concerns and hardships, too. And living here can even be stressful at times. But good neighbors help make life better somehow.
Another neighbor sent her kids down the road pulling an old red wagon filled with good things--to welcome us to the neighborhood. We'd only been here a week or two, and I had spent the day shopping in Merced for some much-needed items. When I got home, on the table sat dinner--from the children's wagon--and a note from a stranger who became an instant friend. I'll always remember the meal that night: a hearty beef stew, homemade bread and applesauce canned by her own hands in her cozy, country kitchen.
One neighbor used to work in Yosemite, and knows a lot about the native vegetation. Once in awhile he'll show up at our door with a pot of herbs or a fruit tree seedling for our garden. He and other friends and neighbors have shared their iris bulbs with us. Six years ago, the lawn was full of weeds, with only a flower or two. But now there are flowers in abundance. I like to think of it as my "friendship garden."
Occasionally I call the neighbor on the phone. "Um-mm... There's a snake outside, right by the door, and I don't know what kind it is. Do you think you could come over and help me get rid of it?" I ask. He's retired, and doesn't mind the interruption. I'm finally learning which snakes are good ones (they keep down the gopher and mouse population), and which ones aren't. But I still jump a little whenever I see one.
We had to put our dog down three years ago, after having him for close to twelve. Our neighbors put theirs down, too. We can sympathize. Then last year we got a pug. They got a pug, too, and now our pugs are neighbors! The other day there was a message on the answering machine. "If you guys aren't doing anything later this afternoon, Rosie would like some company," the voice said. So after lunch we put Maddie's harness and leash on, and went for a walk--to visit Rosie. What a great time they had!
While there, the wife told me about some health issues that have been bothering her. I hadn't known. "Oh, you should've called me," I said, and gave her a hug. She looked at me like I'd scolded her. "You know how we are. We like to think we're not really getting old," she replied. I still asked her to let me know if she ever needs anything in the future. Then I made a mental note to call her more often, and take her a loaf of bread soon, too.
Yesterday, while walking with Maddie (our pug) to the post office, we stopped to chat with another neighbor. We talked about our gardens, her cows and the recent thunderstorm. She also has some dogs, and bent down to ask Maddie how she's been doing. Then she asked about our neighbors and their pug, which led me to tell her of the recent illness. She, too said she needed to call there soon.
There's a house for rent down the road, and another neighbor's house is for sale. Can't help but wonder what kind of neighbors we'll get.
Ronald Reagan believed in small government and kind neighbors. (I'm reading Nancy's book, My Turn.) He didn't believe that government should step in to do what neighbors can do for each other.
Life is pretty peaceful out here in the country, but we still have our share of concerns and hardships, too. And living here can even be stressful at times. But good neighbors help make life better somehow.
Friday, May 08, 2009
Chasing Moonbows
My daughter is still sound asleep; my husband left for work this morning with eyes bloodshot, while I sit here, resisting the temptation to go back to bed.
We were up half the night looking for moonbows in Yosemite.
When I first told my husband I wanted to go, he said, "Couldn't we just use the garden hose in the backyard and make our own?"
"No. We're going to Yosemite to see a real one. I want to do this, and we need to do this as a family," I replied sweetly, but firmly. There was no use arguing.
So we made our plans. And last night, we took off.
From our house it's about an hour and-a-half to the Park entrance. (We picked up Brent Gilstrap mid-way.) Once there, it's a bit of a drive to reach the valley floor. (The Merced River was rushing beside us while driving along the highway--so good to see all that water. )
Once inside the Park, we watched for landmarks: the Chapel, Bridal Veil Fall, Ribbon Fall, another Fall (Cascade, I think); then we reached Cook's Meadow with Yosemite Falls across the way. We pulled into the parking lot, which was almost full, and parked.
Close to a dozen photographers were already there with cameras set up on tripods--all pointing toward the Falls. A bit of light remained in the sky, so everyone was just waiting. They were part of a photography workshop.
One guy was reclining on the sidewalk where we stopped. He said, "There's supposed to be a rainbow in the mist."
"Yeah, we know. A moonbow," I told him.
Brent found the photographer/instructor of the group, and they chatted. We stayed there 20 or 30 minutes; by then it was dark. We had arranged to meet friends near Yosemite Lodge, and it was almost nine o'clock, so we got back into the car and headed that way.
Once there, we found a parking spot in another very full lot. (Yosemite is a happenin' place after dark!) I filled everyone's coffee cups again, and headed for the rendezvous point. After waiting 15 minutes or so, we split up. Brent hiked up the trail to set up his camera, and Ron and our daughter and I went back to the car to put some things away, and look for our friends. Once at the car, I checked my cell phone, and found they had left a message, so I called. They were already at the bridge.
So that's where we went. Excited and expectant in hopes of seeing a real moonbow!
Our eyes were finally adjusted to the moonlight, but it was difficult to recognize faces. (Ron wore his blue and white coat, and that's what I looked for all night, being easy to spot.)
We felt the mist as we got closer to the bridge and the Falls. The air was chilly, and the Falls roared.
Once there, we could see the moonbow--one end of it, anyway, as it arched across the stream.
"Oh, look! There it is!" one of us cried--or maybe all of us.
Then we heard familiar voices, and our friends were there right behind us. All at once we were looking and exclaiming over its beauty.
The wind was cold and wet and loud. And there were lots of people. It felt more like a sporting event, as people crowded around various spots of the bridge, moving around and craning their necks to see. Standing room only, as one observer noted.
"Excuse me. Excuse me, please."
"Pardon me."
"Oh, yes, go right ahead."
"Excuse me. Thank you."
There we were, chasing moonbows and tripping over tripods.
"Do you think you all could walk behind the tripods?" one agitated photographer asked.
"Maybe you guys could move forward a little to give us more of a walkway?" was the response. Almost comical.
Our friends were standing at the one side of the bridge, closest to the trail. Brent was setting up his gear in the middle of the bridge. Where the cold, windy wetness was the worst. That's one devoted photo guy.
My daughter and I spent the time going back and forth, as the cold became too much at times. We clung to each other like children, trying to stay warm, but not wanting to lose each other in the dark. My husband stayed with Brent, helping and learning whatever he could.
When we weren't moving (and tripping over tripods), we just stood--in awe. From the middle of the bridge, of course, we could see most of the moonbow. A gorgeous white arch reaching through the mist and across the water.
Our friends commented that there was some color to it, sort of fading in and out with the moonlight. And almost immediately, my daughter yelled, "I can see color! I can see the color! Mom, can you see it?"
I looked, and I could. Just faintly. But, yes, there was a thin strip of red across the top, with white in the middle and a blueish-green strip at the bottom of the bow.
"Yes, I can! Wow! It's beautiful!" I told her.
Then she was thrilled.
"You can, Mom? Oh! Mom! You're not too old! You can see the colors!" she said, hugging me. (Professor Olson mentioned in his articles that colors are usually difficult to see, unless you're young.)
Whenever we stood still to watch, in sheer amazement, she wrapped her arms around me and put her head on my shoulder. This sweet teen of mine who's now as tall as me, was in paradise for one brief night. She kept saying things like, "Yosemite is so beautiful. The moonbow is so beautiful. I've never seen anything so beautiful."
When we moved here six years ago, it had been hard for her to leave her childhood friends and the home she grew up in. All this time she's wished we hadn't come here. Until last night. When I asked her about it, she said, "Yes, Mom. I'm glad we came to California."
I've rarely seen her so happy or so mesmerized.
And in those sacred, shared moments, I worshiped the Creator Who made the moonbows. The One Who made Yosemite and everything else--Who so generously and lovingly beckons us to come and find Him in all that's beautiful, even in the moonlight.
(On our way back to the car, my husband agreed it was worth the trip--better than the garden hose in the backyard experiment.)
The heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament reveals His handiwork. - the Bible
We were up half the night looking for moonbows in Yosemite.
When I first told my husband I wanted to go, he said, "Couldn't we just use the garden hose in the backyard and make our own?"
"No. We're going to Yosemite to see a real one. I want to do this, and we need to do this as a family," I replied sweetly, but firmly. There was no use arguing.
So we made our plans. And last night, we took off.
From our house it's about an hour and-a-half to the Park entrance. (We picked up Brent Gilstrap mid-way.) Once there, it's a bit of a drive to reach the valley floor. (The Merced River was rushing beside us while driving along the highway--so good to see all that water. )
Once inside the Park, we watched for landmarks: the Chapel, Bridal Veil Fall, Ribbon Fall, another Fall (Cascade, I think); then we reached Cook's Meadow with Yosemite Falls across the way. We pulled into the parking lot, which was almost full, and parked.
Close to a dozen photographers were already there with cameras set up on tripods--all pointing toward the Falls. A bit of light remained in the sky, so everyone was just waiting. They were part of a photography workshop.
One guy was reclining on the sidewalk where we stopped. He said, "There's supposed to be a rainbow in the mist."
"Yeah, we know. A moonbow," I told him.
Brent found the photographer/instructor of the group, and they chatted. We stayed there 20 or 30 minutes; by then it was dark. We had arranged to meet friends near Yosemite Lodge, and it was almost nine o'clock, so we got back into the car and headed that way.
Once there, we found a parking spot in another very full lot. (Yosemite is a happenin' place after dark!) I filled everyone's coffee cups again, and headed for the rendezvous point. After waiting 15 minutes or so, we split up. Brent hiked up the trail to set up his camera, and Ron and our daughter and I went back to the car to put some things away, and look for our friends. Once at the car, I checked my cell phone, and found they had left a message, so I called. They were already at the bridge.
So that's where we went. Excited and expectant in hopes of seeing a real moonbow!
Our eyes were finally adjusted to the moonlight, but it was difficult to recognize faces. (Ron wore his blue and white coat, and that's what I looked for all night, being easy to spot.)
We felt the mist as we got closer to the bridge and the Falls. The air was chilly, and the Falls roared.
Once there, we could see the moonbow--one end of it, anyway, as it arched across the stream.
"Oh, look! There it is!" one of us cried--or maybe all of us.
Then we heard familiar voices, and our friends were there right behind us. All at once we were looking and exclaiming over its beauty.
The wind was cold and wet and loud. And there were lots of people. It felt more like a sporting event, as people crowded around various spots of the bridge, moving around and craning their necks to see. Standing room only, as one observer noted.
"Excuse me. Excuse me, please."
"Pardon me."
"Oh, yes, go right ahead."
"Excuse me. Thank you."
There we were, chasing moonbows and tripping over tripods.
"Do you think you all could walk behind the tripods?" one agitated photographer asked.
"Maybe you guys could move forward a little to give us more of a walkway?" was the response. Almost comical.
Our friends were standing at the one side of the bridge, closest to the trail. Brent was setting up his gear in the middle of the bridge. Where the cold, windy wetness was the worst. That's one devoted photo guy.
My daughter and I spent the time going back and forth, as the cold became too much at times. We clung to each other like children, trying to stay warm, but not wanting to lose each other in the dark. My husband stayed with Brent, helping and learning whatever he could.
When we weren't moving (and tripping over tripods), we just stood--in awe. From the middle of the bridge, of course, we could see most of the moonbow. A gorgeous white arch reaching through the mist and across the water.
Our friends commented that there was some color to it, sort of fading in and out with the moonlight. And almost immediately, my daughter yelled, "I can see color! I can see the color! Mom, can you see it?"
I looked, and I could. Just faintly. But, yes, there was a thin strip of red across the top, with white in the middle and a blueish-green strip at the bottom of the bow.
"Yes, I can! Wow! It's beautiful!" I told her.
Then she was thrilled.
"You can, Mom? Oh! Mom! You're not too old! You can see the colors!" she said, hugging me. (Professor Olson mentioned in his articles that colors are usually difficult to see, unless you're young.)
Whenever we stood still to watch, in sheer amazement, she wrapped her arms around me and put her head on my shoulder. This sweet teen of mine who's now as tall as me, was in paradise for one brief night. She kept saying things like, "Yosemite is so beautiful. The moonbow is so beautiful. I've never seen anything so beautiful."
When we moved here six years ago, it had been hard for her to leave her childhood friends and the home she grew up in. All this time she's wished we hadn't come here. Until last night. When I asked her about it, she said, "Yes, Mom. I'm glad we came to California."
I've rarely seen her so happy or so mesmerized.
And in those sacred, shared moments, I worshiped the Creator Who made the moonbows. The One Who made Yosemite and everything else--Who so generously and lovingly beckons us to come and find Him in all that's beautiful, even in the moonlight.
(On our way back to the car, my husband agreed it was worth the trip--better than the garden hose in the backyard experiment.)
The heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament reveals His handiwork. - the Bible
Saturday, May 02, 2009
When Problems Become the Norm
Something needs to be addressed when our children begin responding in one or more of the following ways, as described by Sam Brock from Ironwood Camp in southern California:
1. Their first response is an argument.
If every time we tell our children to do something, they respond with an excuse, a request to change our command, or some type of comment, we mustn't think that this is a normal part of the obedience process. Arguing or compromising shouldn't be allowed. They need to learn to respect our God-given authority. How else will they learn to fear Him?
2. Their first response if discontent.
The groan, the sigh, the scowl--all are forms of communication to let us know clearly what they think of the situation at hand (or their lot in life). They may proceed to do the right thing, but a D.R.A. (Dirty Rotten Attitude) shouldn't accompany it.
3. They use "I'm Sorry" as a cover-up.
Some children will use "I'm sorry" to make up for their bad first response, and then expect no consequences for their actions, because they said, "Sorry." It is crucial for us to teach our children that their first response needs to be a right response, so they don't have to seek forgiveness for it.
4. They whine constantly.
"Would you like a little cheese with your whine?"
Whining is one of those things that slowly creeps into our home, or school, church, workplace, etc., and then grows and grows. A parent who has been gone for only a few hours may come home and realize that every one has turned into a whiner. This also needs to be addressed right away, before it becomes the norm.
5. There are no conversations.
With older children at home, conversations should be the norm. "Mom, can I show you what I made?" or "Dad, I think I figured out this logic puzzle. Would you check it for me?" or "Guess what happened today...?"
These are all the types of things our teens can and should be saying to us. And we should be willing to listen, and to converse with them about what's important in their lives.
When a child continually retreats to her bedroom, and seems content to say nothing when we're around, make the effort to talk, and to draw him or her into casual conversation.
"So, what did you think about the movie?" or "How's the new scientific calculator working out with your math problems?" or "Did you see the article in the newspaper about such-and-such?"
If things don't get better, some one-on-one time is needed to develop a closer relationship: organize a family trip, sign up for a class together, or borrow a good digital camera and go on a hike looking for wildflowers or birds, or take a bucket, a shovel and a couple pairs of work gloves, and go hunting for crystals (digging in the creeks near hills). And look for other ways to be involved in his life. Being a close-knit family doesn't mean several people live in the same quarters, but aren't involved in each others'lives.
Home should be a haven, a refuge from the turbulent world around us... a place of security and contentment for the parents and the children... a place where every one feels safe and accepted.
1. Their first response is an argument.
If every time we tell our children to do something, they respond with an excuse, a request to change our command, or some type of comment, we mustn't think that this is a normal part of the obedience process. Arguing or compromising shouldn't be allowed. They need to learn to respect our God-given authority. How else will they learn to fear Him?
2. Their first response if discontent.
The groan, the sigh, the scowl--all are forms of communication to let us know clearly what they think of the situation at hand (or their lot in life). They may proceed to do the right thing, but a D.R.A. (Dirty Rotten Attitude) shouldn't accompany it.
3. They use "I'm Sorry" as a cover-up.
Some children will use "I'm sorry" to make up for their bad first response, and then expect no consequences for their actions, because they said, "Sorry." It is crucial for us to teach our children that their first response needs to be a right response, so they don't have to seek forgiveness for it.
4. They whine constantly.
"Would you like a little cheese with your whine?"
Whining is one of those things that slowly creeps into our home, or school, church, workplace, etc., and then grows and grows. A parent who has been gone for only a few hours may come home and realize that every one has turned into a whiner. This also needs to be addressed right away, before it becomes the norm.
5. There are no conversations.
With older children at home, conversations should be the norm. "Mom, can I show you what I made?" or "Dad, I think I figured out this logic puzzle. Would you check it for me?" or "Guess what happened today...?"
These are all the types of things our teens can and should be saying to us. And we should be willing to listen, and to converse with them about what's important in their lives.
When a child continually retreats to her bedroom, and seems content to say nothing when we're around, make the effort to talk, and to draw him or her into casual conversation.
"So, what did you think about the movie?" or "How's the new scientific calculator working out with your math problems?" or "Did you see the article in the newspaper about such-and-such?"
If things don't get better, some one-on-one time is needed to develop a closer relationship: organize a family trip, sign up for a class together, or borrow a good digital camera and go on a hike looking for wildflowers or birds, or take a bucket, a shovel and a couple pairs of work gloves, and go hunting for crystals (digging in the creeks near hills). And look for other ways to be involved in his life. Being a close-knit family doesn't mean several people live in the same quarters, but aren't involved in each others'lives.
Home should be a haven, a refuge from the turbulent world around us... a place of security and contentment for the parents and the children... a place where every one feels safe and accepted.
Friday, May 01, 2009
Another Door of Opportunity
For many years now I have prayed the Jabez prayer for my family.
"Oh, that You would bless me indeed, and enlarge my territory, that Your hand would be with me, and that You would keep me from evil, that I may not cause pain!
-- I Chronicles 4:10
Just last week I told the Lord that I didn't need my borders enlarged anymore, because my present list of responsibilities is more than full.
But within only a day or two, I was asked if I'd like to teach the ladies in the county jail on Sunday nights. I miss teaching ladies. My heart's burden is to help women learn (from His Word and from the lives of others) of God's great love for them. I've had such a longing to do this, but had accepted the fact that He didn't want that for me right now. Then, the door was swung wide open! Wow!
God has a way of putting me in situations where I have to face my greatest fears or failings, and when I see those same things in others, it forces me to soar above whatever threatens to keep me grounded. I think that's what's going on here. We live in such a depressed and spiritually oppressed area, yet God wants to do something, to reach down and lift up the downcast, to heal the sin-sick, and bind the wounds, to mend the brokenness, and release the captives... In the midst of the muck and mire of human frailty, He has shown me there's hope, for me and for others, through His Word and His workings in us. I think the one message I want to always give in whatever I write, whatever I say, whatever I sing, is the fact that hope does exist. And I want Him to help me point the way... Always Upward.
"Oh, that You would bless me indeed, and enlarge my territory, that Your hand would be with me, and that You would keep me from evil, that I may not cause pain!
-- I Chronicles 4:10
Just last week I told the Lord that I didn't need my borders enlarged anymore, because my present list of responsibilities is more than full.
But within only a day or two, I was asked if I'd like to teach the ladies in the county jail on Sunday nights. I miss teaching ladies. My heart's burden is to help women learn (from His Word and from the lives of others) of God's great love for them. I've had such a longing to do this, but had accepted the fact that He didn't want that for me right now. Then, the door was swung wide open! Wow!
God has a way of putting me in situations where I have to face my greatest fears or failings, and when I see those same things in others, it forces me to soar above whatever threatens to keep me grounded. I think that's what's going on here. We live in such a depressed and spiritually oppressed area, yet God wants to do something, to reach down and lift up the downcast, to heal the sin-sick, and bind the wounds, to mend the brokenness, and release the captives... In the midst of the muck and mire of human frailty, He has shown me there's hope, for me and for others, through His Word and His workings in us. I think the one message I want to always give in whatever I write, whatever I say, whatever I sing, is the fact that hope does exist. And I want Him to help me point the way... Always Upward.
Monday, April 13, 2009
From the comic strip B.C. this past Easter weekend
So, you're telling me this guy died just so we could all be forgiven the bad stuff we do?
Yep.
Then he pops back to life on this day and ascends to some magical place in the sky?
Give or take...
...And he walks on top of water--which incidentally--he can also turn into wine?
That's the word on the street.
Sounds pretty wild.
So, should I sign you up?
I think I'll explore my alternatives.
Take your time.
(The one guy turns around to leave, and stares directly at a giant pink Easter bunny sitting atop a huge decorated egg. Then he turns back around...)
You got a health plan?
Everlasting.
Yep.
Then he pops back to life on this day and ascends to some magical place in the sky?
Give or take...
...And he walks on top of water--which incidentally--he can also turn into wine?
That's the word on the street.
Sounds pretty wild.
So, should I sign you up?
I think I'll explore my alternatives.
Take your time.
(The one guy turns around to leave, and stares directly at a giant pink Easter bunny sitting atop a huge decorated egg. Then he turns back around...)
You got a health plan?
Everlasting.
Saturday, April 04, 2009
My Purpose
May every soul that touches mine--
Be it the slightest contact--
Get therefrom some good;
Some little grace; one kindly thought;
One aspiration yet unfelt;
One bit of courage
For the darkening sky;
One gleam of faith
To brave the thickening ills of life;
One glimpse of brighter skies
Beyond the gathering mists--
To make this life worth while...
by George Elliott
Be it the slightest contact--
Get therefrom some good;
Some little grace; one kindly thought;
One aspiration yet unfelt;
One bit of courage
For the darkening sky;
One gleam of faith
To brave the thickening ills of life;
One glimpse of brighter skies
Beyond the gathering mists--
To make this life worth while...
by George Elliott
Thursday, April 02, 2009
Trials and Testings
From a grandfather's letter to his grandson...
I often thought about Abraham and Job when I was your age.
Those stories used to bother me. Really.
I wondered why Abraham should have to live through those agonies
of climbing the hill with his son,
expecting to have to kill him when they reached the top.
I wondered why Job would be required to lose everything,
not knowing that all would be restored--
and not all restored even then, but replaced.
Later I thought that the ordeals of Abraham and Job
made them stronger, better.
Then I thought--
who wants to be that strong and good?
Then I thought--
if God in omniscience already knew how Job and Abraham would respond,
why did He test them so?
And then, finally, it appeared that God was not showing Himself how they would respond--
but rather, He was showing them.
I often thought about Abraham and Job when I was your age.
Those stories used to bother me. Really.
I wondered why Abraham should have to live through those agonies
of climbing the hill with his son,
expecting to have to kill him when they reached the top.
I wondered why Job would be required to lose everything,
not knowing that all would be restored--
and not all restored even then, but replaced.
Later I thought that the ordeals of Abraham and Job
made them stronger, better.
Then I thought--
who wants to be that strong and good?
Then I thought--
if God in omniscience already knew how Job and Abraham would respond,
why did He test them so?
And then, finally, it appeared that God was not showing Himself how they would respond--
but rather, He was showing them.
Wednesday, April 01, 2009
Life Isn't Fair
"It's not fair!" our children cry. I hear it constantly. Usually from a younger child in regard to an older child. Why does she get to do that and I don't? Why does he always get to go somewhere? You gave her more than me! How come?
But sometimes it's even the grown-ups who demand fairness.
Is it a surprise that life isn't fair? It shouldn't be.
Some of us live in old houses; some live in new ones. Some drive old cars; some, new. Some folks have money leftover at the end of the month, and others have hardly enough to make ends meet.
There are godly women who long to have a child, but can't. Other women have their children taken from them, and then tell the judge, "That's okay. I can always make more." (They can, and they do.)
Life isn't fair.
Many nights as I lay my head on the pillow, I count my blessings, while praying for Christians around the world who are suffering persecution. Lives are threatened, families are run out of town and forced to leave all their belongings behind. Believers are imprisoned or gunned down. Parents lose their children, and children lose their parents. Yet, here we are in America, fussing over who gets invited to a birthday party.
Life isn't fair. But God never said it would be.
Olympic athletes don't all reach the finish line at the same time. There are far more "losers" than there are "winners".
Some families constantly battle one illness or another, while others seem to coast through life with fine health.
California is often parched from too little rain, while Ohio and other mid-western states are flooded--on an annual basis.
Some faces were blessed with loveliness, but many are plain or disfigured. Most children are born healthy, but not all. Some folks live long, productive lives; some die young. And most mothers of soldiers are reunited with their sons (or daughters), savoring that initial embrace after a long separation, while other moms are given a lifeless flag and a sympathetic handshake from a uniformed stranger.
Many of God's children were burned at the stake, fed to the lions or sawn in two. Some of God's saints were miraculously rescued before being martyred, but others are killed, even today, with no Divine intervention at all.
Others of us enjoy great comfort and ease with modern conveniences, while too many across the globe live in poverty and filth. Paul, the apostle, suffered continual hardships that I hope to never experience.
Around the world a multitude of false religions are leading people away from the true God, while here in America I was born into a Christian home. Is it fair?
Sorry to press the point, but I hope you can see that, while life is not fair, we are assured that God is always just.
When our children fuss over life's unfairness, or when we're tempted to view a situation from their childish perspective, how much better to show our children (and remind ourselves) the truth of God's justice and great love for His own. If we truly believe God is good all the time, we'll remember that everything He allows into our lives is the very best, even when it's less than or different from what He allows into another's life.
We can prepare the path for the child, or we can prepare the child for the path. The road we travel may be strewn with rocks and huge obstacles, or it may be filled with holes. We must teach our children good navigation skills, persevering through the difficulties, and appreciating what they have, instead of focusing on what they don't. When viewing a situation from one angle, we can be mistaken in our prejudices. Yet, if we knew all the facts, we would understand. And our complaints would be silenced. Job received a great blessing--double what he had at first. But look at what he endured beforehand.
A sure-cure to a child's immature (and self-centered) view of life is this: Teach him (or her) to be thankful. One of the quickest ways to stray from God is found in Romans 1, ...when they knew God, they glorified Him not as God, neither were they thankful; but became vain in their imaginations, and their foolish heart was darkened. Professing themselves to be wise, they became fools... (vv. 21-22)
And of course, there are those well-known verses in I Thessalonians 5: Rejoice ever-more. Pray without ceasing. In everything give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you. (vv. 16-18)
With our grateful attention being focused on God's goodness, we'll be hard-pressed to find anything to complain about!
But sometimes it's even the grown-ups who demand fairness.
Is it a surprise that life isn't fair? It shouldn't be.
Some of us live in old houses; some live in new ones. Some drive old cars; some, new. Some folks have money leftover at the end of the month, and others have hardly enough to make ends meet.
There are godly women who long to have a child, but can't. Other women have their children taken from them, and then tell the judge, "That's okay. I can always make more." (They can, and they do.)
Life isn't fair.
Many nights as I lay my head on the pillow, I count my blessings, while praying for Christians around the world who are suffering persecution. Lives are threatened, families are run out of town and forced to leave all their belongings behind. Believers are imprisoned or gunned down. Parents lose their children, and children lose their parents. Yet, here we are in America, fussing over who gets invited to a birthday party.
Life isn't fair. But God never said it would be.
Olympic athletes don't all reach the finish line at the same time. There are far more "losers" than there are "winners".
Some families constantly battle one illness or another, while others seem to coast through life with fine health.
California is often parched from too little rain, while Ohio and other mid-western states are flooded--on an annual basis.
Some faces were blessed with loveliness, but many are plain or disfigured. Most children are born healthy, but not all. Some folks live long, productive lives; some die young. And most mothers of soldiers are reunited with their sons (or daughters), savoring that initial embrace after a long separation, while other moms are given a lifeless flag and a sympathetic handshake from a uniformed stranger.
Many of God's children were burned at the stake, fed to the lions or sawn in two. Some of God's saints were miraculously rescued before being martyred, but others are killed, even today, with no Divine intervention at all.
Others of us enjoy great comfort and ease with modern conveniences, while too many across the globe live in poverty and filth. Paul, the apostle, suffered continual hardships that I hope to never experience.
Around the world a multitude of false religions are leading people away from the true God, while here in America I was born into a Christian home. Is it fair?
Sorry to press the point, but I hope you can see that, while life is not fair, we are assured that God is always just.
When our children fuss over life's unfairness, or when we're tempted to view a situation from their childish perspective, how much better to show our children (and remind ourselves) the truth of God's justice and great love for His own. If we truly believe God is good all the time, we'll remember that everything He allows into our lives is the very best, even when it's less than or different from what He allows into another's life.
We can prepare the path for the child, or we can prepare the child for the path. The road we travel may be strewn with rocks and huge obstacles, or it may be filled with holes. We must teach our children good navigation skills, persevering through the difficulties, and appreciating what they have, instead of focusing on what they don't. When viewing a situation from one angle, we can be mistaken in our prejudices. Yet, if we knew all the facts, we would understand. And our complaints would be silenced. Job received a great blessing--double what he had at first. But look at what he endured beforehand.
A sure-cure to a child's immature (and self-centered) view of life is this: Teach him (or her) to be thankful. One of the quickest ways to stray from God is found in Romans 1, ...when they knew God, they glorified Him not as God, neither were they thankful; but became vain in their imaginations, and their foolish heart was darkened. Professing themselves to be wise, they became fools... (vv. 21-22)
And of course, there are those well-known verses in I Thessalonians 5: Rejoice ever-more. Pray without ceasing. In everything give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you. (vv. 16-18)
With our grateful attention being focused on God's goodness, we'll be hard-pressed to find anything to complain about!
The Stress Diet
Breakfast
1/2 grapefruit
1 piece whole wheat toast w/ diet margarine
8 oz. skim milk
Mid-morning Snack
8 oz. carton plain yogurt
veggie sticks or apple wedges
Lunch
4 oz. lean broiled chicken breast
1 cup steamed zucchini
1 Oreo cookie
Herb tea, iced or hot, 1 t. artificial sweetener
Mid-afternoon Snack
The rest of the package of Oreo cookies
2 cans diet soda
Dinner
1 loaf of garlic bread
1 large meat lover's pizza, w/ extra cheese
1 large pitcher of root beer
3 Milky Ways
Entire frozen cheesecake, eaten directly from the freezer (Burp!)
And later before bed...
1 whole bag of Bugles
1/2 grapefruit
1 piece whole wheat toast w/ diet margarine
8 oz. skim milk
Mid-morning Snack
8 oz. carton plain yogurt
veggie sticks or apple wedges
Lunch
4 oz. lean broiled chicken breast
1 cup steamed zucchini
1 Oreo cookie
Herb tea, iced or hot, 1 t. artificial sweetener
Mid-afternoon Snack
The rest of the package of Oreo cookies
2 cans diet soda
Dinner
1 loaf of garlic bread
1 large meat lover's pizza, w/ extra cheese
1 large pitcher of root beer
3 Milky Ways
Entire frozen cheesecake, eaten directly from the freezer (Burp!)
And later before bed...
1 whole bag of Bugles
Worry Wart Hog (and Friends)
Are you a homeowner? Chances are, you worry. But if you rent, you probably worry, too. (And if you're homeless, I can only imagine how much you worry.)
Are you concerned about your vehicle? Whether or not it will get you from Point A to Point B without breaking down? You bet, you worry.
Are you involved with people? Do you work with people? Do you work for people? Then, of course you worry.
Do you have too much to do and too many places to go? Got too many bills? Taxes due? You most definitely worry.
Do you have elderly parents? Or maybe you yourself are approaching old-age faster than you'd like. Then you're probably worrying about that and a whole lot more.
Do you have enemies? Do you feel left out or unwanted in a particular situation or place? It's hard not to worry.
And if you're a mom, no matter how old or young your kiddos are, you absolutely, positively, most definitely worry every single day! (Unless you're otherwise pre-occupied, but that's another subject.)
There's a kids' song about "Worry Wart Hog". Every time he starts worrying, he breaks out in another wart. Sounds awful, but it can be true for us humans, too. I've actually had it happen to me. I used to be one of his closest friends--only, I broke out in a rash, instead of warts. I think I've learned not to worry quite so much since then, but there's still the tendency to fret when things don't go the way I expect them to.
After all these years of being one of God's children, I'm still learning to trust Him. And it looks like it's gonna take me the rest of my life to learn this lesson completely.
Do you ever feel that way?
It's amazing, though, how often the verses I read in the mornings correspond exactly with whatever I'm going through at the time. And no matter how many times I read a passage, the Holy Spirit makes God's Word live especially for me and my particular situation just when I need it! God continually tells me I have no reason to worry. (Not even about the economy or America's future or nationalized health-care or socialistic democracy or anything else.)
I hope you'll take a minute to read the following passages, and let God's promises encourage you, too:
Fret not thyself because of evildoers, neither be thou envious against the workers of iniquity...
Trust in the Lord, and do good; so shalt thou dwell in the land, and verily thou shalt be fed. Delight thyself in the Lord; and He shall give thee the desires of thine heart. Commit thy way unto the Lord; trust also in Him; and He shall bring it to pass...
Rest in the Lord, and wait patiently for Him: fret not thyself because of him who prospereth in his way, because of the man who bringeth wicked devices to pass.
Cease from anger, and forsake wrath: fret not thyself in any wise to do evil. For evildoers shall be cut off: but those that wait upon the Lord, they shall inherit the earth...
The Lord knoweth the days of the upright; and their inheritance shall be forever. They shall not be ashamed in the evil time: and in the days of famine they shall be satisfied...
The steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord: and He delighteth in his way. Though he fall...the Lord upholdeth him...
I (have) not seen the righteous forsaken, nor his seed begging bread. He is ever merciful, and lendeth: and His seed is blessed.
The mouth of the righteous speaketh wisdom, and his tongue talketh of judgment. The law of his God is in his heart; none of his steps shall slide...
Wait on the Lord, and keep His way, and He shall exalt thee...
The salvation of the righteous is of the Lord: He is their strength in the time of trouble. And the Lord shall help them, and deliver them...because they trust in Him. - Psalm 37
God's Word is filled with promises and assurances, but it is also filled with instructions--the guidelines for living as we make the journey toward our heavenly home. If we want God to keep His promises, we need to make sure we're doing things His way. Not for heavenly "brownie points"--but for the sake of our relationship with Him, which will make our earthly pilgrimage more blessed. Not trouble-free, but worry-free!
Oftentimes, the troubles multiply when our worries lead us away from God's will.
King Saul made the mistake of taking matters into his own hands, and he suffered greatly for it.
As soon as Hagar discovered she was pregnant with Abraham's child, Sarah immediately regretted allowing her husband to sleep with her handmaid--in a genuine effort to help God out.
Rachel put together her own plan instead of seeking God's plan, and she never saw her favorite son again.
David, too, was often fearful and anxious. His life was in danger at times, as he lived in caves as a fugitive. Yet, every time he called on God for wisdom and help, God was ready with an answer. It was during the times David neglected to consult his God when things went awry.
I don't know who said it, but here's something to consider:
The lives of former generations are a lesson to posterity; that a man may review the remarkable events which have happened to others, and be admonished; and may consider the history of people of preceding ages, and of all that hath befallen them, and be restrained...
Wow! This is exactly why God has recorded for us the stories and experiences of men and women in ancient times. So we who live later may learn from them. God's principles are just as true and just as powerful as they were when Moses and others copied them thousands of years ago.
Within our human framework, emotionally and mentally, it's natural to worry, to be afraid, to doubt, to wander, to be envious or resentful, to become so angry we want to scream, so disoriented we don't know which way to turn, or so discouraged we want to curl up in a ball and cease to exist. Others have felt the same way. But with God's Holy Spirit living inside me, and His Word at my fingertips, I can be comforted, resting in His promises to take care of all those things that bring me anxiety!
Let not your heart be troubled: ye believe in God, believe also in me... I will not leave you comfortless: I will come to you. - John 14:1 & 18
Casting all your care upon Him; for He careth for you. - I Peter 5:7
In the book of Psalms we're shown a raging sea of emotions. But throughout every chapter, God provides the calm by encouraging us to keep our eyes on Him. Just as Jesus told Peter while out on the water in the raging storm, we do not need to be afraid. There is absolutely nothing He cannot handle or help us with. He may not do it immediately or in the precise way we'd like, but He does work on our behalf. And He does it very well.
I will bless the Lord, Who hath given me counsel... because He is at my right hand, I shall not be moved... Therefore my heart is glad... my flesh shall also rest in hope...
- Psalm 16
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Corrie Ten Boom said, "Worry does not empty tomorrow of sorrows; it empties today of strength."
A woman worried for forty years that she would die of cancer. She finally died of pneumonia at age seventy. She wasted over half her life worrying about the wrong thing. (from the book How to Win Over Worry)
Pressed out of measure and pressed to all length;
Pressed so intently it seems beyond strength.
Pressed in body and pressed in soul; Pressed in the mind till the dark surges roll;
Pressure by foes, pressure by friends;
Pressure on pressure, till life nearly ends.
Pressed into loving the staff and the rod;
Pressed into knowing no helper but God.
-- Annie Johnson Flint
Are you concerned about your vehicle? Whether or not it will get you from Point A to Point B without breaking down? You bet, you worry.
Are you involved with people? Do you work with people? Do you work for people? Then, of course you worry.
Do you have too much to do and too many places to go? Got too many bills? Taxes due? You most definitely worry.
Do you have elderly parents? Or maybe you yourself are approaching old-age faster than you'd like. Then you're probably worrying about that and a whole lot more.
Do you have enemies? Do you feel left out or unwanted in a particular situation or place? It's hard not to worry.
And if you're a mom, no matter how old or young your kiddos are, you absolutely, positively, most definitely worry every single day! (Unless you're otherwise pre-occupied, but that's another subject.)
There's a kids' song about "Worry Wart Hog". Every time he starts worrying, he breaks out in another wart. Sounds awful, but it can be true for us humans, too. I've actually had it happen to me. I used to be one of his closest friends--only, I broke out in a rash, instead of warts. I think I've learned not to worry quite so much since then, but there's still the tendency to fret when things don't go the way I expect them to.
After all these years of being one of God's children, I'm still learning to trust Him. And it looks like it's gonna take me the rest of my life to learn this lesson completely.
Do you ever feel that way?
It's amazing, though, how often the verses I read in the mornings correspond exactly with whatever I'm going through at the time. And no matter how many times I read a passage, the Holy Spirit makes God's Word live especially for me and my particular situation just when I need it! God continually tells me I have no reason to worry. (Not even about the economy or America's future or nationalized health-care or socialistic democracy or anything else.)
I hope you'll take a minute to read the following passages, and let God's promises encourage you, too:
Fret not thyself because of evildoers, neither be thou envious against the workers of iniquity...
Trust in the Lord, and do good; so shalt thou dwell in the land, and verily thou shalt be fed. Delight thyself in the Lord; and He shall give thee the desires of thine heart. Commit thy way unto the Lord; trust also in Him; and He shall bring it to pass...
Rest in the Lord, and wait patiently for Him: fret not thyself because of him who prospereth in his way, because of the man who bringeth wicked devices to pass.
Cease from anger, and forsake wrath: fret not thyself in any wise to do evil. For evildoers shall be cut off: but those that wait upon the Lord, they shall inherit the earth...
The Lord knoweth the days of the upright; and their inheritance shall be forever. They shall not be ashamed in the evil time: and in the days of famine they shall be satisfied...
The steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord: and He delighteth in his way. Though he fall...the Lord upholdeth him...
I (have) not seen the righteous forsaken, nor his seed begging bread. He is ever merciful, and lendeth: and His seed is blessed.
The mouth of the righteous speaketh wisdom, and his tongue talketh of judgment. The law of his God is in his heart; none of his steps shall slide...
Wait on the Lord, and keep His way, and He shall exalt thee...
The salvation of the righteous is of the Lord: He is their strength in the time of trouble. And the Lord shall help them, and deliver them...because they trust in Him. - Psalm 37
God's Word is filled with promises and assurances, but it is also filled with instructions--the guidelines for living as we make the journey toward our heavenly home. If we want God to keep His promises, we need to make sure we're doing things His way. Not for heavenly "brownie points"--but for the sake of our relationship with Him, which will make our earthly pilgrimage more blessed. Not trouble-free, but worry-free!
Oftentimes, the troubles multiply when our worries lead us away from God's will.
King Saul made the mistake of taking matters into his own hands, and he suffered greatly for it.
As soon as Hagar discovered she was pregnant with Abraham's child, Sarah immediately regretted allowing her husband to sleep with her handmaid--in a genuine effort to help God out.
Rachel put together her own plan instead of seeking God's plan, and she never saw her favorite son again.
David, too, was often fearful and anxious. His life was in danger at times, as he lived in caves as a fugitive. Yet, every time he called on God for wisdom and help, God was ready with an answer. It was during the times David neglected to consult his God when things went awry.
I don't know who said it, but here's something to consider:
The lives of former generations are a lesson to posterity; that a man may review the remarkable events which have happened to others, and be admonished; and may consider the history of people of preceding ages, and of all that hath befallen them, and be restrained...
Wow! This is exactly why God has recorded for us the stories and experiences of men and women in ancient times. So we who live later may learn from them. God's principles are just as true and just as powerful as they were when Moses and others copied them thousands of years ago.
Within our human framework, emotionally and mentally, it's natural to worry, to be afraid, to doubt, to wander, to be envious or resentful, to become so angry we want to scream, so disoriented we don't know which way to turn, or so discouraged we want to curl up in a ball and cease to exist. Others have felt the same way. But with God's Holy Spirit living inside me, and His Word at my fingertips, I can be comforted, resting in His promises to take care of all those things that bring me anxiety!
Let not your heart be troubled: ye believe in God, believe also in me... I will not leave you comfortless: I will come to you. - John 14:1 & 18
Casting all your care upon Him; for He careth for you. - I Peter 5:7
In the book of Psalms we're shown a raging sea of emotions. But throughout every chapter, God provides the calm by encouraging us to keep our eyes on Him. Just as Jesus told Peter while out on the water in the raging storm, we do not need to be afraid. There is absolutely nothing He cannot handle or help us with. He may not do it immediately or in the precise way we'd like, but He does work on our behalf. And He does it very well.
I will bless the Lord, Who hath given me counsel... because He is at my right hand, I shall not be moved... Therefore my heart is glad... my flesh shall also rest in hope...
- Psalm 16
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Corrie Ten Boom said, "Worry does not empty tomorrow of sorrows; it empties today of strength."
A woman worried for forty years that she would die of cancer. She finally died of pneumonia at age seventy. She wasted over half her life worrying about the wrong thing. (from the book How to Win Over Worry)
Pressed out of measure and pressed to all length;
Pressed so intently it seems beyond strength.
Pressed in body and pressed in soul; Pressed in the mind till the dark surges roll;
Pressure by foes, pressure by friends;
Pressure on pressure, till life nearly ends.
Pressed into loving the staff and the rod;
Pressed into knowing no helper but God.
-- Annie Johnson Flint
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
O Wrinkled Me!
Everytime I go on Facebook, there's an ad announcing that I should look younger, like the "stars".
The Duchess of York once said, "You can never be too thin or too rich." And obviously, one cannot be too young-looking, either.
"Born in the 60's, but look like you're 25," it says.
I suppose if I had their money and didn't have to work for a living, I could afford all the pampering, too.
It will soon be considered an affront to society for anyone to remain wrinkled, I'm guessing.
So here I am, not quite thin, definitely not rich, and getting more wrinkled (and gray-haired) by the day.
Society may not agree,
but I am completely and devotedly loved and accepted by the God Who created me--in His image, and I'm loved by several friends and relatives.
Also, in Heaven, there's a brand-new body awaiting me--perfectly shaped and sized, and beautiful in every way, with nothing wrinkled, crooked, bulging, sagging, gray-haired or unattractive at all!
Glory!
The Duchess of York once said, "You can never be too thin or too rich." And obviously, one cannot be too young-looking, either.
"Born in the 60's, but look like you're 25," it says.
I suppose if I had their money and didn't have to work for a living, I could afford all the pampering, too.
It will soon be considered an affront to society for anyone to remain wrinkled, I'm guessing.
So here I am, not quite thin, definitely not rich, and getting more wrinkled (and gray-haired) by the day.
Society may not agree,
but I am completely and devotedly loved and accepted by the God Who created me--in His image, and I'm loved by several friends and relatives.
Also, in Heaven, there's a brand-new body awaiting me--perfectly shaped and sized, and beautiful in every way, with nothing wrinkled, crooked, bulging, sagging, gray-haired or unattractive at all!
Glory!
Monday, March 09, 2009
My Most Recent Frustration
I guess I am now an official part-time working (outside the home) mom. I got my "Press Pass" from the Sun-Star last week. And whenever I'm sitting at the computer typing away (or thinking hard or researching or whatever), I am not cleaning, cooking, gardening, crafting, laundering, ironing (yes, I still iron some of our clothes), decorating, studying, etc., etc. I do manage to supervise #1 girl in her school work as needed, but the home and yard are suffering a little from neglect. (I also lost my African Violets, and the few houseplants that have managed to survive are not looking too good. I think it's time to change the soil and do some re-potting.) Most times it's great--meeting new people and learning new things, interesting things, historical things... But other times--usually when the clutter and chaos are over-flowing--I look around my house and wish God would just rapture us, so I wouldn't have to deal with all this earthly stuff anymore. Everytime I think I'm gonna have some time to get organized, other responsibilities fill that spot, and I keep piling things with the intention to take care of it soon, but it never happens. And the attic gets fuller and fuller of more stuff (that we can't live without, we use once or twice a year, or there's no room at the church to store it), and I can't believe this is my house--or my life.
Also last week we had our final interview with the lady from the CA state adoptions office, and she hasn't found anything wrong or too weird with us, so we now qualify as an adoptive family.
My childhood dream is finally within reach--
And all of a sudden, I'm scared to death!
Yeah, I've always wanted to adopt--
But, surely, not now--as a middle-aged couple...
Why don't my plans or time table ever look the same as God's?
I don't know what He has in store for us.
With 90,000 kids in CA who are adoptable,
one would think that a couple of them would fit in with us just fine,
and that we will be just the right (calm, quiet, sometimes boring, sometimes not, sometimes quirky, but most times lovable and dependable and musical and on our way to Heaven) family for them.
Nothing worthwhile is ever easy,
and I'm not getting any younger,
and some days I'm just plain tired,
or discouraged,
or frustrated,
and not as patient as I used to be,
and not as ambitious,
or something...
And I wonder if I could get away with changing my mind,
taking the easy way through the rest of my life,
minding my own business, keeping to myself,
puttering in the garden, selling flowers and herbs on the side of the road,
ignoring the fact that tens of thousands of kids
in this state alone
have little hope
of ever finding security or stability or success or salvation...
Unless somebody reaches out to them.
Jane Pauley once asked Michael J. Fox why he keeps such a hectic pace,
while having an illness... why doesn't he slow down and reserve his energy?
He responded, "Reserve my energy for what?"
That's how I feel.
Yeah, I could congratulate myself on raising two above average kids who are really trying to keep their wits about them (spiritually and emotionally) in a world that's gone wild,
and settle back to enjoy the rest of my life...
But, for some reason, I can't do that,
taking the easy way,
and live with my conscience at the same time.
So, here I am, wondering what the future holds,
and wondering how in the world I'm going to keep my sanity...
But that's when I take my eyes off the Lord,
and start looking at the waves billowing around me--
That's when I get scared,
and want to call it quits.
Yet, I don't want to be a woman of little faith--dinky faith---shallow, weak, worthless faith,
even though, after all these years, it still seems my faith is only
the size of a mustard seed... One would think it would have grown
a little bigger than that.
And maybe it has, and I just can't see it.
But God can, along with everything else.
He sees my beginning and my ending and the entire middle of my life,
and He keeps telling me that, with Him to guide me,
I can do whatever He asks.
I just have to remember to keep my gaze fixed on Him,
instead of all the hurdles and obstacles and challenges and storms.
It's a lot more peaceful that way.
I can't adopt all those poor kids in the CA foster care system,
but I can adopt one or two...
And maybe that will inspire somebody else to adopt one or two,
and then maybe a few more families will adopt, and just maybe
Christians in CA will make a real difference here...
It's worth a try,
and since God's the One Who gave me the idea in the first place,
I need to stop arguing with Him, and do what He says.
And enjoy the blessing of watching some "great and mighty things" take place!
Also last week we had our final interview with the lady from the CA state adoptions office, and she hasn't found anything wrong or too weird with us, so we now qualify as an adoptive family.
My childhood dream is finally within reach--
And all of a sudden, I'm scared to death!
Yeah, I've always wanted to adopt--
But, surely, not now--as a middle-aged couple...
Why don't my plans or time table ever look the same as God's?
I don't know what He has in store for us.
With 90,000 kids in CA who are adoptable,
one would think that a couple of them would fit in with us just fine,
and that we will be just the right (calm, quiet, sometimes boring, sometimes not, sometimes quirky, but most times lovable and dependable and musical and on our way to Heaven) family for them.
Nothing worthwhile is ever easy,
and I'm not getting any younger,
and some days I'm just plain tired,
or discouraged,
or frustrated,
and not as patient as I used to be,
and not as ambitious,
or something...
And I wonder if I could get away with changing my mind,
taking the easy way through the rest of my life,
minding my own business, keeping to myself,
puttering in the garden, selling flowers and herbs on the side of the road,
ignoring the fact that tens of thousands of kids
in this state alone
have little hope
of ever finding security or stability or success or salvation...
Unless somebody reaches out to them.
Jane Pauley once asked Michael J. Fox why he keeps such a hectic pace,
while having an illness... why doesn't he slow down and reserve his energy?
He responded, "Reserve my energy for what?"
That's how I feel.
Yeah, I could congratulate myself on raising two above average kids who are really trying to keep their wits about them (spiritually and emotionally) in a world that's gone wild,
and settle back to enjoy the rest of my life...
But, for some reason, I can't do that,
taking the easy way,
and live with my conscience at the same time.
So, here I am, wondering what the future holds,
and wondering how in the world I'm going to keep my sanity...
But that's when I take my eyes off the Lord,
and start looking at the waves billowing around me--
That's when I get scared,
and want to call it quits.
Yet, I don't want to be a woman of little faith--dinky faith---shallow, weak, worthless faith,
even though, after all these years, it still seems my faith is only
the size of a mustard seed... One would think it would have grown
a little bigger than that.
And maybe it has, and I just can't see it.
But God can, along with everything else.
He sees my beginning and my ending and the entire middle of my life,
and He keeps telling me that, with Him to guide me,
I can do whatever He asks.
I just have to remember to keep my gaze fixed on Him,
instead of all the hurdles and obstacles and challenges and storms.
It's a lot more peaceful that way.
I can't adopt all those poor kids in the CA foster care system,
but I can adopt one or two...
And maybe that will inspire somebody else to adopt one or two,
and then maybe a few more families will adopt, and just maybe
Christians in CA will make a real difference here...
It's worth a try,
and since God's the One Who gave me the idea in the first place,
I need to stop arguing with Him, and do what He says.
And enjoy the blessing of watching some "great and mighty things" take place!
Sunday's Messages, AM & PM
A missionary came yesterday, and I was blessed in both services.
The morning message was about obeying God even when it doesn't make sense.
God told Philip (in Acts) to take off for the desert,
because He had a job for him to do.
That's where Philip met the Ethiopian eunuch and was able to lead him to Christ--the first African to receive the Gospel!
I still struggle with being here, but every once in awhile God reminds me
He has a plan and purpose for all of this. I am right where He wants me, and He will do something good with us here. I must continue to trust and obey (with a song in my heart and a smile on my face, if possible).
Then in the evening message, one of the first words out of the missionary's mouth was "Prayer".
I mentally reminded the Lord that I do pray--a lot. But lately it looks as if it's not doing much good, because some of the things I'm praying about still haven't changed, and they don't appear to be even close to changing.
It's been several years since I started praying for these situations.
But as the message continued, I realized that it wasn't just a reminder to keep praying--
It was actually an answer to my question lately,
"God, I don't know what exactly to pray for anymore, or how to pray, or what to ask for." There's a need and something's lacking, and God knows all about it, but if my prayers are to be effectual, I have to know what to pray for specifically.
And He said, "...pray...that the Word of the Lord may have free course, and be glorified (exalted and lifted high, above all else)..." -- II Thess. 3:1
And I responded with a "Yes! That's it! Thank You!"
Now my prayer time has purpose and meaning again.
I know personally and experientially the tremendous power and importance of prayer. But I got side-tracked, and lost my way, and then of course, stopped praying with fervency--and expectation.
But not anymore.
I am on my knees again.
Just as God told Elijah that He was going to send rain, and then commanded him to pray for rain, God has told me what the need is and how I need to pray so He can meet the need!
Mary, Queen of Scots, feared nothing except when John Knox was on his knees in prayer.
The morning message was about obeying God even when it doesn't make sense.
God told Philip (in Acts) to take off for the desert,
because He had a job for him to do.
That's where Philip met the Ethiopian eunuch and was able to lead him to Christ--the first African to receive the Gospel!
I still struggle with being here, but every once in awhile God reminds me
He has a plan and purpose for all of this. I am right where He wants me, and He will do something good with us here. I must continue to trust and obey (with a song in my heart and a smile on my face, if possible).
Then in the evening message, one of the first words out of the missionary's mouth was "Prayer".
I mentally reminded the Lord that I do pray--a lot. But lately it looks as if it's not doing much good, because some of the things I'm praying about still haven't changed, and they don't appear to be even close to changing.
It's been several years since I started praying for these situations.
But as the message continued, I realized that it wasn't just a reminder to keep praying--
It was actually an answer to my question lately,
"God, I don't know what exactly to pray for anymore, or how to pray, or what to ask for." There's a need and something's lacking, and God knows all about it, but if my prayers are to be effectual, I have to know what to pray for specifically.
And He said, "...pray...that the Word of the Lord may have free course, and be glorified (exalted and lifted high, above all else)..." -- II Thess. 3:1
And I responded with a "Yes! That's it! Thank You!"
Now my prayer time has purpose and meaning again.
I know personally and experientially the tremendous power and importance of prayer. But I got side-tracked, and lost my way, and then of course, stopped praying with fervency--and expectation.
But not anymore.
I am on my knees again.
Just as God told Elijah that He was going to send rain, and then commanded him to pray for rain, God has told me what the need is and how I need to pray so He can meet the need!
Mary, Queen of Scots, feared nothing except when John Knox was on his knees in prayer.
Friday, February 20, 2009
Be It Ever So Humble
A marketing group recently predicted the number one trend for this year: Due to tighter budgets, folks will stay home more.
So, here in California, what does it mean to be at "home"?
In rural areas older wood frame or rock houses sit next to lop-sided barns. In the pines, a run-down miner's shack is replaced with a 4,000 square foot log cabin or something from the Tumbleweed Tiny House Company in Sebastopol. Mobile trailer homes from the 1970's dot the landscape, in the north and south. Stucco siding is common in the desert communities, and multi-storied glass and steel-framed apartment buildings face the Pacific and define the sky-lines of our largest cities. To borrow a phrase from a local property-owner, wherever you choose to live, it'll most likely be a "rancho-mucho-costa".
For instance, modern residences are offered in San Francisco, with starting prices at half-a-million. Or if you prefer historic character, a few older mansions are up for grabs with price tags in the multi-million-dollar range. One of them--a "fixer-upper"--is listed for close to fifty million! Granted, luxurious amenities are included, such as concierge services (I had to look that one up), indoor swimming pools and fitness centers, private screening theaters, landscaped courtyards, and unparalleled views of SF's Bay and the surrounding area.
I suppose I could feel deprived.
But I don't.
As participants in the PBS Colonial House project several years ago, one Malibu family shared a small cabin in Montana. For five months they learned, among other things, how to get along with less. Afterwards they moved into a brand new 5,000 square foot house (built while they were gone). Later in an interview the mom remarked how she missed the closeness of the cabin. "This new house is so big," she said. "I can go for days without seeing my kids."
Her definition of "home" had changed.
Our city-dwelling son came home for a visit earlier this month. In the Arizona desert, he's surrounded by every convenience. And his favorite hockey stadium and MLB ball park are just a few miles away. He's single, he's busy, and pretty much does what he wants (when he's not working, that is). But after a week's stay in the country, eating Mom's cooking instead of Top Ramen, helping Dad chop wood and lay stone, and teasing his sister while building "The Pearl" with LEGO's, he hugged me the night before heading back, and said, "I wish I didn't have to leave."
In our slightly crooked, old farmhouse, with thrift store objets d'art and hand-me-down furniture, there's still no place like home.
So, here in California, what does it mean to be at "home"?
In rural areas older wood frame or rock houses sit next to lop-sided barns. In the pines, a run-down miner's shack is replaced with a 4,000 square foot log cabin or something from the Tumbleweed Tiny House Company in Sebastopol. Mobile trailer homes from the 1970's dot the landscape, in the north and south. Stucco siding is common in the desert communities, and multi-storied glass and steel-framed apartment buildings face the Pacific and define the sky-lines of our largest cities. To borrow a phrase from a local property-owner, wherever you choose to live, it'll most likely be a "rancho-mucho-costa".
For instance, modern residences are offered in San Francisco, with starting prices at half-a-million. Or if you prefer historic character, a few older mansions are up for grabs with price tags in the multi-million-dollar range. One of them--a "fixer-upper"--is listed for close to fifty million! Granted, luxurious amenities are included, such as concierge services (I had to look that one up), indoor swimming pools and fitness centers, private screening theaters, landscaped courtyards, and unparalleled views of SF's Bay and the surrounding area.
I suppose I could feel deprived.
But I don't.
As participants in the PBS Colonial House project several years ago, one Malibu family shared a small cabin in Montana. For five months they learned, among other things, how to get along with less. Afterwards they moved into a brand new 5,000 square foot house (built while they were gone). Later in an interview the mom remarked how she missed the closeness of the cabin. "This new house is so big," she said. "I can go for days without seeing my kids."
Her definition of "home" had changed.
Our city-dwelling son came home for a visit earlier this month. In the Arizona desert, he's surrounded by every convenience. And his favorite hockey stadium and MLB ball park are just a few miles away. He's single, he's busy, and pretty much does what he wants (when he's not working, that is). But after a week's stay in the country, eating Mom's cooking instead of Top Ramen, helping Dad chop wood and lay stone, and teasing his sister while building "The Pearl" with LEGO's, he hugged me the night before heading back, and said, "I wish I didn't have to leave."
In our slightly crooked, old farmhouse, with thrift store objets d'art and hand-me-down furniture, there's still no place like home.
Tuesday, February 03, 2009
Everyday Love (by Rascal Flatts)
(If I were a guy, I would have written it this way...)
Can't get enough of this everyday love
Can't get enough of this everyday love
Each morning the sun shines through my window
Lands on the face of a dream come true
I shuffle to the kitchen for my coffee
And catch up on the front page morning news
Then she walks up behind me and throws her arms around my neck
Just another normal thing I've come to expect
[Chorus]
It's ordinary plain and simple
Typical, this everyday love
Same ol', same ol' keeping it new
(Same ol'/This everyday love)
Emotional, so familiar
Nothing about it too peculiar
Oh, but I can't get enough
Of this everyday love
Every afternoon I make a phone call
Listen to the voice that warms my heart
I drag myself through a few more hours
Then head on home to try and beat the dark
Her smile will be right there when I step through that door
And it will be that way tomorrow, just like everyday before
[Repeat Chorus]
Wouldn't change one single thing about it
No, it's run-of-the-mill, still I can't live without it
[Repeat Chorus]
Yeah, of this everyday love
Can't get enough of this everyday love
Can't get enough of this everyday love
Can't get enough of this everyday love
Can't get enough
Can't get enough of this everyday love
Can't get enough of this everyday love
Each morning the sun shines through my window
Lands on the face of a dream come true
I shuffle to the kitchen for my coffee
And catch up on the front page morning news
Then she walks up behind me and throws her arms around my neck
Just another normal thing I've come to expect
[Chorus]
It's ordinary plain and simple
Typical, this everyday love
Same ol', same ol' keeping it new
(Same ol'/This everyday love)
Emotional, so familiar
Nothing about it too peculiar
Oh, but I can't get enough
Of this everyday love
Every afternoon I make a phone call
Listen to the voice that warms my heart
I drag myself through a few more hours
Then head on home to try and beat the dark
Her smile will be right there when I step through that door
And it will be that way tomorrow, just like everyday before
[Repeat Chorus]
Wouldn't change one single thing about it
No, it's run-of-the-mill, still I can't live without it
[Repeat Chorus]
Yeah, of this everyday love
Can't get enough of this everyday love
Can't get enough of this everyday love
Can't get enough of this everyday love
Can't get enough
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Surprise!
Our son hasn't been home for two years, and couldn't come for Christmas because of work obligations. This month he's been with the company for six months and was able to ask for vacation time, so he and I planned awhile back for him to come as a surprise for his dad's 50th birthday dinner.
(May God forgive us for the inaccuracies we've told to keep Ron from suspecting anything.)
This past Saturday morning, the 17th, J called, and said, "I've been lying like a bank robber! Dad's called twice in two days, and keeps asking me what I'm doing!" J would answer something like, "I'm chillin'." When actually he was right here in California, staying the night with friends, driving them to a basketball game, etc...
The plan was for him to get to Fresno between 5 and 5:30 pm, and call me in the parking lot of the restaurant; I would hand the phone to Ron (while we were seated at our table amongst friends); then while Ron was talking to J, J would walk up to surprise him.
It mostly worked according to plan, except that we had to wait for our tables, so we were walking into the restaurant when J called; Ron stayed outside and talked with his son, thinking J was in Phoenix chillin'. When J tapped Ron on the shoulder, he turned around, stunned, but very pleased. The rest of us didn't get to see the surprise event, but it was exciting for all of us when the two men walked over to join our group!
And Ron really was surprised--he had no idea that J was coming! (My strategic-minded husband is hard to fool.)
J gets to stay here for a whole week, and we're having a great time together...
We went ice skating at Yosemite yesterday, and watched the sky and Half Dome change colors as the sun set. During the last hour we practically had the rink to ourselves, as most of the skaters were gone, so we got to skate wherever we wanted. J and E were swing dancing in the middle of the rink at one point.
J's enjoying the home cooking, and we're grateful for the time together, as his future plans include the military.
It's amazing to watch my grown and almost-grown kids, after years of teaching and training and praying, begging God for the necessary wisdom and strength for the task...
Now we're singing together, laughing together, working side-by-side, eating and talking and hugging and reminiscing...
There's nothing like good family fellowship, and I am praising God for this treasured blessing!
(May God forgive us for the inaccuracies we've told to keep Ron from suspecting anything.)
This past Saturday morning, the 17th, J called, and said, "I've been lying like a bank robber! Dad's called twice in two days, and keeps asking me what I'm doing!" J would answer something like, "I'm chillin'." When actually he was right here in California, staying the night with friends, driving them to a basketball game, etc...
The plan was for him to get to Fresno between 5 and 5:30 pm, and call me in the parking lot of the restaurant; I would hand the phone to Ron (while we were seated at our table amongst friends); then while Ron was talking to J, J would walk up to surprise him.
It mostly worked according to plan, except that we had to wait for our tables, so we were walking into the restaurant when J called; Ron stayed outside and talked with his son, thinking J was in Phoenix chillin'. When J tapped Ron on the shoulder, he turned around, stunned, but very pleased. The rest of us didn't get to see the surprise event, but it was exciting for all of us when the two men walked over to join our group!
And Ron really was surprised--he had no idea that J was coming! (My strategic-minded husband is hard to fool.)
J gets to stay here for a whole week, and we're having a great time together...
We went ice skating at Yosemite yesterday, and watched the sky and Half Dome change colors as the sun set. During the last hour we practically had the rink to ourselves, as most of the skaters were gone, so we got to skate wherever we wanted. J and E were swing dancing in the middle of the rink at one point.
J's enjoying the home cooking, and we're grateful for the time together, as his future plans include the military.
It's amazing to watch my grown and almost-grown kids, after years of teaching and training and praying, begging God for the necessary wisdom and strength for the task...
Now we're singing together, laughing together, working side-by-side, eating and talking and hugging and reminiscing...
There's nothing like good family fellowship, and I am praising God for this treasured blessing!
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
My Hubby's 50th Birthday
It doesn't seem possible that half a century has gone by. And to think that I have been with you for a big part of it.
You have become so much that is honorable, as God has led us and helped us all these years. I can only hope and pray that He will bless you with the health and strength to continue living this life of service to Him--a life of devotion to your family and others around you. I'm truly grateful to be at your side as we celebrate this milestone.
The LORD has blessed us with two wonderful children and so many close friends,
a home to fix up and share with others,
the great privilege of ministering together,
plus our yard and garden and a new(er) car to take us places (without wondering when it's gonna fall apart and if there'll be anyone nearby to help us out),
and dreams for the future, too!
On one hand, 50 is just a number, and it doesn't change a thing.
On the other hand, 50 years of growing in wisdom and stature, finding favor with God and man, and being faithful is deserving of praise.
God is doing an amazing work in you, Sweetheart,
and I'm so glad to be a part of it.
All my love,
Deb
You have become so much that is honorable, as God has led us and helped us all these years. I can only hope and pray that He will bless you with the health and strength to continue living this life of service to Him--a life of devotion to your family and others around you. I'm truly grateful to be at your side as we celebrate this milestone.
The LORD has blessed us with two wonderful children and so many close friends,
a home to fix up and share with others,
the great privilege of ministering together,
plus our yard and garden and a new(er) car to take us places (without wondering when it's gonna fall apart and if there'll be anyone nearby to help us out),
and dreams for the future, too!
On one hand, 50 is just a number, and it doesn't change a thing.
On the other hand, 50 years of growing in wisdom and stature, finding favor with God and man, and being faithful is deserving of praise.
God is doing an amazing work in you, Sweetheart,
and I'm so glad to be a part of it.
All my love,
Deb
Tuesday, January 06, 2009
Life Is a Lot Like Chicken Salad
My mother-in-law is a very creative woman, which is evidenced in her culinary pursuits, as well as her handcrafts. No can of chicken or tuna is ever the same after being in her kitchen. No "just a glob of mayo and a dash of salt and pepper" for her! When she opens her cabinets and fridge, there's no telling what she'll reach for in making a chicken or tuna salad (or any other kind of salad): walnuts, pecans or almonds... diced apple or crushed pineapple... onions, garlic, parsley or an assortment of other spices and herbs...
My daughter is also a very creative (young) woman, and she loves to visit her grandma, especially at mealtime. Then when she comes home, she's adding all kinds of interesting things to her chicken salad.
My husband is very creative, too, but when it comes to his food, such as chicken salad, his tastes are a little simpler. So when I make his lunch, the chicken or tuna salad gets "a glob of mayo and a dash of onion powder and pepper"--and that's it.
Recently, my daughter was hungry, but not in the mood to cook or get creative in the kitchen, so she grabbed the bowl of chicken salad I had made for her dad. After taking a couple bites, she said, "Wow--I forgot how good chicken salad is plain!"
I said all that to draw an analogy:
In modern America it's all about how many things we can accumulate, how many people we know, how many trips we take, how many miles we fly, how much money we have or spend, how many songs are on our i-pod or how many rings are on our cell phones, etc., etc., etc...
It all adds up to bigger and better and more and More and MORE...
But the Bible speaks of godliness with contentment being great gain (I Tim. 6:6).
Why is it, among some of my own Christian brothers and sisters, I feel the need to defend my choice of lifestyle: that of living quietly and simply? (They call it "living in a box" which translates into "BORING" for them.)
Which comes back to the chicken salad thing: Sometimes when we keep adding things to life, we lose the original flavor. Yes, variety is the spice of life, but with Jesus at the center of my life, His flavor is so wonderful, it doesn't need much enhancing; when I do choose to enhance it, I make sure the added flavors are compatible with His.
If we can live a simple life, not having so much that we would forget God, but not having so little that we would be tempted to curse Him, being able to do the things He's created us to do (in our work, ministry and home), and to guide our children to do the same while also walking in truth, then we will be most content.
Sometimes it's the simple things in life that bring the most joy.
My daughter is also a very creative (young) woman, and she loves to visit her grandma, especially at mealtime. Then when she comes home, she's adding all kinds of interesting things to her chicken salad.
My husband is very creative, too, but when it comes to his food, such as chicken salad, his tastes are a little simpler. So when I make his lunch, the chicken or tuna salad gets "a glob of mayo and a dash of onion powder and pepper"--and that's it.
Recently, my daughter was hungry, but not in the mood to cook or get creative in the kitchen, so she grabbed the bowl of chicken salad I had made for her dad. After taking a couple bites, she said, "Wow--I forgot how good chicken salad is plain!"
I said all that to draw an analogy:
In modern America it's all about how many things we can accumulate, how many people we know, how many trips we take, how many miles we fly, how much money we have or spend, how many songs are on our i-pod or how many rings are on our cell phones, etc., etc., etc...
It all adds up to bigger and better and more and More and MORE...
But the Bible speaks of godliness with contentment being great gain (I Tim. 6:6).
Why is it, among some of my own Christian brothers and sisters, I feel the need to defend my choice of lifestyle: that of living quietly and simply? (They call it "living in a box" which translates into "BORING" for them.)
Which comes back to the chicken salad thing: Sometimes when we keep adding things to life, we lose the original flavor. Yes, variety is the spice of life, but with Jesus at the center of my life, His flavor is so wonderful, it doesn't need much enhancing; when I do choose to enhance it, I make sure the added flavors are compatible with His.
If we can live a simple life, not having so much that we would forget God, but not having so little that we would be tempted to curse Him, being able to do the things He's created us to do (in our work, ministry and home), and to guide our children to do the same while also walking in truth, then we will be most content.
Sometimes it's the simple things in life that bring the most joy.
Post-Script to the Chicken Salad Analogy
When we recently purchased a pre-owned Subaru Outback, after researching and praying and talking to other Subaru owners, we were thrilled to find exactly what we were looking for. AND in a color other than neutral!
Our #1 girl had told one of our friends about the "heated front seats" and some of the other cool accessories. He told me, "You'd think you guys were given a mansion, the way she talks about the car."
"Well," I said, "it's not like we get a new(er) car every other year. This is really exciting for our whole family, besides being an answer to prayer, too."
Maybe I don't have to defend our way of life. Maybe I don't have to defend anything I do or don't do. But for some reason, there are a lot of opinions out there about how we live--probably because we don't live just like everyone else, which is because we have some different values, and it shows up in the way we live. So, let me share some of the reasons for this difference...
We believe God created (by Intelligent and Loving Design) the world and every person and particle in it. He created it perfectly, and He called it "Good". (Adam and Eve knew a kind of happiness and fulfillment we will never know this side of Heaven.) Then the serpent came into the picture, and through his deception, convinced Eve that God was holding out on her, and she broke the only rule there was: that of eating the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and evil. Then she convinced Adam to eat of it, too. And it went downhill from there. The point is: the bad things in life are not of God's making, but of the deceiver's making and of our choice to not live by God's rules.
We believe God created us for the purpose of glorifying Him and enjoying His goodness and holiness. (This does not translate into sitting around all day reading our Bibles, or getting to Heaven and sitting on a cloud playing a harp for eternity.) Yet, in order to glorify Him, we need to know what kinds of things bring Him glory. So, yes, we do try to spend some time each day in His Word and on our knees, in communication with Him. This is how a strong relationship is developed and how He gives us grace and strength and wisdom for living in these times.
We don't believe that we should follow the philosophies of the world's systems or go with the flow. We are to live soberly and righteously, we should use discernment and prudence, judging righteous judgment, being patient and content, and working hard, minding our own business, not being busy-bodies or wasting precious time gossiping or slandering, speaking the truth in love, bearing one another's burdens, and walking in the Spirit so we do not fulfill the lusts of the flesh, etc., etc., etc. (Proverbs 31 is a good outline for women who want a picture of godliness.)
And with these values in mind, understanding that what we believe is what will be evidenced in our lives (in the same way that what you believe will be evidenced in your life), Ron and I can say truthfully that our lives are about finding the will of God and striving to live accordingly. It has nothing to do with being "perfect" as humans define "perfection", because anybody with half a brain knows that nobody is "perfect". But, we are to be holy as God is holy. And God wouldn't have told us to do something without making it possible to accomplish it. So, maybe Christians (in this county) should stop defending their lack of perfection, and start looking at their Savior, Who through His Spirit and through His Word, gives us everything we need to live a mature, fruitful, victorious, godly and holy life (II Pet. 1:1-11).
We believe the Bible is the complete revelation of God, inasmuch as He wants us to know for the present age. We believe that when people can read with understanding His Words in their own language, then they can apply His Words and truths to their lives, and grow in their faith. In the "dark ages" the Word of God was kept bound in Latin, held sacred in the confines of church buildings, and the common people suffered. Keeping the Word in old "sacred" languages, refusing to allow it to be translated (from the manuscripts that have been found to be correct) into common languages of the day, then people are without "vision" and will perish and/or be stunted in their spiritual growth. Jesus used and quoted from the translation of His day.
Then, with these things in place, our family lives with every attempt at pleasing Him, knowing that when our ways please the Lord, He'll make our enemies to be at peace with us (eventually).
Some people view this as narrow or ultra-conservative and super-separated. We're told things like: "Lighten up," or "You're too black and white." These are usually the folks who only see us on Sundays or who don't spend real time with us in our home and in a variety of situations.
Let's remember that God gave us different personalities and gifts and abilities, with a vast assortment of tastes, translating into likes and dislikes...
The reason we don't smoke (or use tobacco in other forms) is because we like clear pink lungs and not filthy black ones--which isn't a matter of color, but a matter of breath, and we don't like the prospects of spending the last several years with cancer...
The reason we don't drink alcohol is because we need all the brain cells we have, we don't want to kill any, and because the vices outnumber the virtues, and it's just not something we want or need to enhance our lives, and again, we value our health...
The reason we don't do drugs should be obvious, but because we live in a drug-infested county, I'll explain: Basically, I want to raise my own children, thank you, instead of them being taken from me and put into a foster home.
The reason we go to church and honor the Lord's Day (Sunday) is partly because God says there's a blessing in it, and partly because we enjoy worshiping with our church family.
The reason we don't dance is not because it's evil, but because my husband never wanted to. I, on the other hand, love to dance. (Note: I'm not talking about seductive dancing, which has its place behind the closed doors of a married couple's bedroom.) Finally after almost thirty years of marriage, my husband has agreed to learn how to dance, and as soon as he does, we'll be dancing in various places and situations: the Virginia Reel at Columbia's July 4th celebration, swing dancing in our living room or at a wedding, etc...
The reason we dress modestly/appropriately is because how we dress does say something about how we think, and I don't need to expose my body to find worth or acceptance or approval or anything else; my body is for my husband's pleasure, and what we do in our private retreat is our business; God created sex as a gift for married male and female couples...
The reason we're careful about the movies, magazines, music, books, television programs, etc. that we watch is because we value intelligence. We also agree with the Word that our eyes and ears are the doors to our heart, and we need to put up hedges for keeping in the good (that which edifies) and keeping out the bad (that which feeds the old nature)...
The reason we're careful about how we use our credit card(s) is because we should be, and because, again, it's a matter of contentment: being thankful for what God gives us, and knowing that getting more things doesn't equate to true happiness...
The reason we live a "boring" life: staying home instead of partying, hanging out with the teens, or driving to the nearest city every other day, is partly because we can't afford it (but also because we choose to spend our money on things that last), and partly because "redeeming the time" means using our time wisely; we actually have a wonderful time at home with friends or just with our family, reading, playing games, watching wholesome movies, doing crafts, cooking and baking, enjoying the great outdoors, or just talking and getting to know each other better...
Which brings us back to the chicken salad thing...
Contentment, appreciation, hard work, and holy living.
Our #1 girl had told one of our friends about the "heated front seats" and some of the other cool accessories. He told me, "You'd think you guys were given a mansion, the way she talks about the car."
"Well," I said, "it's not like we get a new(er) car every other year. This is really exciting for our whole family, besides being an answer to prayer, too."
Maybe I don't have to defend our way of life. Maybe I don't have to defend anything I do or don't do. But for some reason, there are a lot of opinions out there about how we live--probably because we don't live just like everyone else, which is because we have some different values, and it shows up in the way we live. So, let me share some of the reasons for this difference...
We believe God created (by Intelligent and Loving Design) the world and every person and particle in it. He created it perfectly, and He called it "Good". (Adam and Eve knew a kind of happiness and fulfillment we will never know this side of Heaven.) Then the serpent came into the picture, and through his deception, convinced Eve that God was holding out on her, and she broke the only rule there was: that of eating the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and evil. Then she convinced Adam to eat of it, too. And it went downhill from there. The point is: the bad things in life are not of God's making, but of the deceiver's making and of our choice to not live by God's rules.
We believe God created us for the purpose of glorifying Him and enjoying His goodness and holiness. (This does not translate into sitting around all day reading our Bibles, or getting to Heaven and sitting on a cloud playing a harp for eternity.) Yet, in order to glorify Him, we need to know what kinds of things bring Him glory. So, yes, we do try to spend some time each day in His Word and on our knees, in communication with Him. This is how a strong relationship is developed and how He gives us grace and strength and wisdom for living in these times.
We don't believe that we should follow the philosophies of the world's systems or go with the flow. We are to live soberly and righteously, we should use discernment and prudence, judging righteous judgment, being patient and content, and working hard, minding our own business, not being busy-bodies or wasting precious time gossiping or slandering, speaking the truth in love, bearing one another's burdens, and walking in the Spirit so we do not fulfill the lusts of the flesh, etc., etc., etc. (Proverbs 31 is a good outline for women who want a picture of godliness.)
And with these values in mind, understanding that what we believe is what will be evidenced in our lives (in the same way that what you believe will be evidenced in your life), Ron and I can say truthfully that our lives are about finding the will of God and striving to live accordingly. It has nothing to do with being "perfect" as humans define "perfection", because anybody with half a brain knows that nobody is "perfect". But, we are to be holy as God is holy. And God wouldn't have told us to do something without making it possible to accomplish it. So, maybe Christians (in this county) should stop defending their lack of perfection, and start looking at their Savior, Who through His Spirit and through His Word, gives us everything we need to live a mature, fruitful, victorious, godly and holy life (II Pet. 1:1-11).
We believe the Bible is the complete revelation of God, inasmuch as He wants us to know for the present age. We believe that when people can read with understanding His Words in their own language, then they can apply His Words and truths to their lives, and grow in their faith. In the "dark ages" the Word of God was kept bound in Latin, held sacred in the confines of church buildings, and the common people suffered. Keeping the Word in old "sacred" languages, refusing to allow it to be translated (from the manuscripts that have been found to be correct) into common languages of the day, then people are without "vision" and will perish and/or be stunted in their spiritual growth. Jesus used and quoted from the translation of His day.
Then, with these things in place, our family lives with every attempt at pleasing Him, knowing that when our ways please the Lord, He'll make our enemies to be at peace with us (eventually).
Some people view this as narrow or ultra-conservative and super-separated. We're told things like: "Lighten up," or "You're too black and white." These are usually the folks who only see us on Sundays or who don't spend real time with us in our home and in a variety of situations.
Let's remember that God gave us different personalities and gifts and abilities, with a vast assortment of tastes, translating into likes and dislikes...
The reason we don't smoke (or use tobacco in other forms) is because we like clear pink lungs and not filthy black ones--which isn't a matter of color, but a matter of breath, and we don't like the prospects of spending the last several years with cancer...
The reason we don't drink alcohol is because we need all the brain cells we have, we don't want to kill any, and because the vices outnumber the virtues, and it's just not something we want or need to enhance our lives, and again, we value our health...
The reason we don't do drugs should be obvious, but because we live in a drug-infested county, I'll explain: Basically, I want to raise my own children, thank you, instead of them being taken from me and put into a foster home.
The reason we go to church and honor the Lord's Day (Sunday) is partly because God says there's a blessing in it, and partly because we enjoy worshiping with our church family.
The reason we don't dance is not because it's evil, but because my husband never wanted to. I, on the other hand, love to dance. (Note: I'm not talking about seductive dancing, which has its place behind the closed doors of a married couple's bedroom.) Finally after almost thirty years of marriage, my husband has agreed to learn how to dance, and as soon as he does, we'll be dancing in various places and situations: the Virginia Reel at Columbia's July 4th celebration, swing dancing in our living room or at a wedding, etc...
The reason we dress modestly/appropriately is because how we dress does say something about how we think, and I don't need to expose my body to find worth or acceptance or approval or anything else; my body is for my husband's pleasure, and what we do in our private retreat is our business; God created sex as a gift for married male and female couples...
The reason we're careful about the movies, magazines, music, books, television programs, etc. that we watch is because we value intelligence. We also agree with the Word that our eyes and ears are the doors to our heart, and we need to put up hedges for keeping in the good (that which edifies) and keeping out the bad (that which feeds the old nature)...
The reason we're careful about how we use our credit card(s) is because we should be, and because, again, it's a matter of contentment: being thankful for what God gives us, and knowing that getting more things doesn't equate to true happiness...
The reason we live a "boring" life: staying home instead of partying, hanging out with the teens, or driving to the nearest city every other day, is partly because we can't afford it (but also because we choose to spend our money on things that last), and partly because "redeeming the time" means using our time wisely; we actually have a wonderful time at home with friends or just with our family, reading, playing games, watching wholesome movies, doing crafts, cooking and baking, enjoying the great outdoors, or just talking and getting to know each other better...
Which brings us back to the chicken salad thing...
Contentment, appreciation, hard work, and holy living.
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