I didn’t think Floyd had a flash camera, but it seemed like he was sitting across the hotel room making flash pictures.
As I often ask this unpredictable man, I said, “What are you doing?”
As he began to say, “It’s the fire alarm,” the automatic announcement began:
“Attention! Attention! A fire is occurring in the building. Leave the building immediately. Attention! Attention! A fire is occurring in the building. Leave the building immediately.” This came with ear-piercing alarm about six feet from my ears.
Red alert! Heart pounding…glad I’m not in my jammies…what next? Have to leave. What to take? Oh dear!
So, best instincts working overtime, I grabbed my phone and my wedding ring. Great choices. Not my shoes that make things not hurt; not my computer; not my…well, I did pick up my purse finally. But apparently, my very first concern was that phone. It does have a lot of good pictures on it…does Verizon back up those too? So, my phone was going with me no matter what, I guess.
Floyd is checking for his room key in his wallet and telling me to get a jacket. (It’s June 24, but we’re in Massachusetts and it’s cold outside.) Jacket? Oh, you mean my sweater. OK, I wouldn’t have thought of that. Got it. Phone, purse, wedding ring, sweater; I’m ready to go.
“Let’s go! Come ON!” That’s me nagging as usual. But he does come, and when I turn to join another gal on the elevator right beside our room, he says, quite definitively, “Stairs. We’re going down the stairs.” Well, I know everything you see about fires says don’t use the elevator, but this had just started and we were only on the second floor so I thought we could sneak down the elevator. I truly hate walking down steps; that’s a story for another day.
Fire door to stairway is pretty close and we’re nearly there. Greeting us in the stairway are all the folks from the five floors above us. Nobody’s distressed; it’s school fire drill day from the way they are handling this.
But I thought of the 110 floors in New York nearly 10 years ago. I thought of the more than 50,000 people in those buildings as we went down maybe 20 steps. Did the folks on the top have to go down 2200 steps? I walked outside into a cool late afternoon and felt safe, if a little shaken. They had no such privilege.
And I thought of the panic and crowd dynamic that can happen when people are truly afraid. Of course, our stairway had none of that, but I did wonder if I should let the children go first or the old folks. (Yes someone was actually older than me!)
So I waited a moment or two and then gently merged into the traffic pattern, turning to see if Floyd was coming because that man can disappear faster than you can blink. But he was there.
Calm group, quick trip. No problem.
What to do? I have to go to the bathroom of course. I’m heading around to the front of the building. Floyd practically pushes me to our rental car and says we’re going for a ride. OK, I can do that. “Hope you’ve got the key,” he wonders. This one isn’t even a key but an electronic gizmo, but I had it. That’s good. So we left, going past the staffer to ask if there’s a real fire.
“No, not really. Just somebody cooking made a lot of smoke in their room.”
I’m driving around the long end of the parking lot, with Floyd telling me I’d better hurry if I want to get out at all, because we can hear the sirens on the fire trucks. Three of them, it turned out. Three huge, red trucks. For smoke and no fire. Better safe than sorry, I guess.
We made it, turned left, and moseyed down the road toward…something or other.
That’s when Floyd just casually mentions why he insisted we go down the steps instead of sneaking down the elevator. I have to say here that I thought those “no elevator” rules were because of smoke and fire in the shaft and this time that couldn’t be so it was OK, right?
“No, I didn’t want to be in the elevator when they cut the electricity to it.” Out of the mouth of the genius.
“Cut the electricity? I never would have thought of that!”
“It’s the first thing I thought of and the first thing they should do in a fire.”
Scary. Glad he was with me. Glad he’s so smart. Glad I didn’t argue. Glad there was no real fire. Glad we had someplace to go. Glad…just glad we’re OK.
6.24.2011
4.28.2010
PUSH!
JUST PUSH
A man was sleeping in his cabin when suddenly his room filled with light,
and God appeared.
The Lord told the man he had work for him to do, and showed him a large rock
in front of his cabin.
The Lord explained that the man was to push against the rock with all his
might. So, this the man did, day after day. For many years he toiled from
sun up to sun down, his shoulders set squarely against the cold, massive
surface of the unmoving rock, pushing with all of his might. Each night the
man returned to his cabin sore and worn out, feeling that his whole day had
been spent in vain.
Since the man was showing discouragement, the Adversary (Satan) decided to
enter the picture by placing thoughts into the weary mind: "You have been
pushing against that rock for a long time, and it hasn't moved." Thus, he
gave the man the impression that the task was impossible and that he was a
failure. These thoughts discouraged and disheartened the man.
Satan said, "Why kill yourself over this? Just put in your time, giving just
the minimum effort; and that will be good enough."
That's what the weary man planned to do, but decided to make it a matter
of prayer and to take his troubled thoughts to the Lord. "Lord," he said,
"I have labored long and hard in your service, putting all my strength to
do that which you have asked. Yet, after all this time, I have not even
budged that rock by half a millimeter.
What is wrong? Why am I failing?
The Lord responded compassionately, "My friend, when I asked you to serve Me
and you accepted, I told you that your task was to push against the rock
with all of your strength, which you have done. Never once did I mention to
you that I expected you to move it. Your task was to push. And now you come
to Me with your strength spent, thinking that you have failed .But is that
really so?
Look at yourself. Your arms are strong and muscled,your back sinewy and
brown; your hands are callused from constant pressure, your legs have become
massive and hard. Through opposition you have grownmuch, and your abilities
now surpass that which you used to have.
True, you haven't moved the rock. But your calling was to be obedient and To
push and to exercise your faith and trust in My wisdom. That you have done.
Now I, my friend, will move the rock
At times, when we hear a word from God, we tend to use our own intellect to
decipher what He wants, when actually what God wants is just a simple
obedience and faith in Him. By all means, exercise the faith that moves
mountains, but know that it is still God who moves mountains.
When everything seems to go wrong ... just P.U.S.H.!
When the job gets you down ... just P.U.S.H.!
When people don't react the way you think they should just P.U.S.H
When your money is "gone" and the bills are due... just P.U.S.H!
When people just don't understand you ... just P.U.S.H.
P= Pray
U= Until
S= Something
H= Happens
A man was sleeping in his cabin when suddenly his room filled with light,
and God appeared.
The Lord told the man he had work for him to do, and showed him a large rock
in front of his cabin.
The Lord explained that the man was to push against the rock with all his
might. So, this the man did, day after day. For many years he toiled from
sun up to sun down, his shoulders set squarely against the cold, massive
surface of the unmoving rock, pushing with all of his might. Each night the
man returned to his cabin sore and worn out, feeling that his whole day had
been spent in vain.
Since the man was showing discouragement, the Adversary (Satan) decided to
enter the picture by placing thoughts into the weary mind: "You have been
pushing against that rock for a long time, and it hasn't moved." Thus, he
gave the man the impression that the task was impossible and that he was a
failure. These thoughts discouraged and disheartened the man.
Satan said, "Why kill yourself over this? Just put in your time, giving just
the minimum effort; and that will be good enough."
That's what the weary man planned to do, but decided to make it a matter
of prayer and to take his troubled thoughts to the Lord. "Lord," he said,
"I have labored long and hard in your service, putting all my strength to
do that which you have asked. Yet, after all this time, I have not even
budged that rock by half a millimeter.
What is wrong? Why am I failing?
The Lord responded compassionately, "My friend, when I asked you to serve Me
and you accepted, I told you that your task was to push against the rock
with all of your strength, which you have done. Never once did I mention to
you that I expected you to move it. Your task was to push. And now you come
to Me with your strength spent, thinking that you have failed .But is that
really so?
Look at yourself. Your arms are strong and muscled,your back sinewy and
brown; your hands are callused from constant pressure, your legs have become
massive and hard. Through opposition you have grownmuch, and your abilities
now surpass that which you used to have.
True, you haven't moved the rock. But your calling was to be obedient and To
push and to exercise your faith and trust in My wisdom. That you have done.
Now I, my friend, will move the rock
At times, when we hear a word from God, we tend to use our own intellect to
decipher what He wants, when actually what God wants is just a simple
obedience and faith in Him. By all means, exercise the faith that moves
mountains, but know that it is still God who moves mountains.
When everything seems to go wrong ... just P.U.S.H.!
When the job gets you down ... just P.U.S.H.!
When people don't react the way you think they should just P.U.S.H
When your money is "gone" and the bills are due... just P.U.S.H!
When people just don't understand you ... just P.U.S.H.
P= Pray
U= Until
S= Something
H= Happens
12.16.2009
Keeping your sanity on long trips with children
A Facebook friend asked for tips for traveling with her two young children on a very long car trip and got a lot of great responses! So, this grandmother is sharing this to help keep all the cute small children of the world alive while traveling with their stresses-out parents!
I'm pasting in the responses, just as they arrived on Facebook from her various friends. I know you'll chuckle...and get some great ideas too!
We have traveled in a car with our kids a ton this past year. The best idea I've had is to keep a secret stash of candy, coloring books, junky toys, etc., and just give the stuff out when they start getting restless. Oh - and stickers. My kids love just to get stickers and some paper to put them on. Hope you find something that works for your kiddos!
Well I bet there are lots of methods used by moms! Videos are great. I sometimes will by Alex a new toy or book (something under $10) to keep him busy. Lots of stops helps! Also food....going to McDonalds drive through or something can break up the trip a bit...
Since our trip to/from Australia, I have discovered loads of tricks (though some unsuitable if you're afraid of a messy vehicle):Party store party favors - cheap, you can put them in one of those giant plastic balls sold at Party City, and allow them one favor from the ball each hour as a reward.Klutz activity books - (Klutz.com or Barnes and Noble in the kids section) the Bead Pop People kept my girls busy for HOURS last plane ride. There is a great paper doll one, too, and a hand-art one that is fabulous.... Silly Putty and a newspaper - potentially messy, however.Vinyl resusable sticker books (they can stick the vinyl stickers to the car windows - no mess) and Mini-Aquadoodles (there is a tiny version, Sesame Street themed at Wal-Mart)I usually wrap everything in tissue paper and back it in individual back-packs and try to pace ourselves so we don't use all toys during the first hour. GOOD LUCK! We're driving to Vegas on Sat and have a bit of a haul, too. Not looking forward to it, lol.Silly putty and a newspaper, potentially messy, however. Vinyl reusable sticker books (they can stick the vinyl stickers to the car windows-no mess) and Mini Aquadoodles (there is a tiny version, Sesame Street themed ate WalMart) I usually wrap everything in tissue paper and pack it in individual back packs and try to pace ourselves so we don’t use all toys during the first hour!
Videos, coloring books, Leapster, stops at McD for lunch and dinner.
Oh, and pit stops - Starbucks sells their own mini-lunchable style snack box now... it is in the juice fridge section. It is easy to miss, it looks like a juice box. They usually sell fresh fruit and yogurt, too, and the kid's drinks are super cheap (they have luke warm hot chocolate for the kiddos, too).
It sounds awful, but... Benadryl. I always reason if my child is truly that distressed, it is as much for their comfort as mine. We have been on airlines where the flight attendants have actually offered us Benadryl, lol.
If they get tired of the watching the same movies you can get new ones at the red boxes when you stop for gas or lots of McDonalds have them. You don't have to return them to the same one you bought it from. Or you can get something for yourself (assuming you are the passenger and not the driver!) and tune everything out. Good luck.
Silly Putty and a newspaper - potentially messy, however.Vinyl resusable sticker books (they can stick the vinyl stickers to the car windows - no mess) and Mini-Aquadoodles (there is a tiny version, Sesame Street themed at Wal-Mart)I usually wrap everything in tissue paper and back it in individual back-packs and try to pace ourselves so we don't use all toys during the first hour. GOOD LUCK! We're driving to Vegas on Sat and have a bit of a haul, too. Not looking forward to it, lol.
Benadryl. just kidding! Best money I spent was on a 3 ring binder with pockets for stickers and inserts / add ins for crayons, markers, colored pencils, etc. Then I hole punched plain paper for drawing, coloring pages, educational pages with games (you can buy books at the store too). I also put an expandable folder in there with felt square
For a storyboard and their felt characters in ziplock bags. While the content has changed, my kids still take their binders with them on long trips 4 years later…
Oh - and pack something for them to do at rest stops - ball, jump rope, kite, etc.
When my kids were older, each one had his/her own Walkman....and I bought batteries before I bought GAS for the trip b/c I wanted those to work allll the way there! I guess this would be power for the DVD players now!
A cookie sheet with alphabet magnets...
I'm pasting in the responses, just as they arrived on Facebook from her various friends. I know you'll chuckle...and get some great ideas too!
We have traveled in a car with our kids a ton this past year. The best idea I've had is to keep a secret stash of candy, coloring books, junky toys, etc., and just give the stuff out when they start getting restless. Oh - and stickers. My kids love just to get stickers and some paper to put them on. Hope you find something that works for your kiddos!
Well I bet there are lots of methods used by moms! Videos are great. I sometimes will by Alex a new toy or book (something under $10) to keep him busy. Lots of stops helps! Also food....going to McDonalds drive through or something can break up the trip a bit...
Since our trip to/from Australia, I have discovered loads of tricks (though some unsuitable if you're afraid of a messy vehicle):Party store party favors - cheap, you can put them in one of those giant plastic balls sold at Party City, and allow them one favor from the ball each hour as a reward.Klutz activity books - (Klutz.com or Barnes and Noble in the kids section) the Bead Pop People kept my girls busy for HOURS last plane ride. There is a great paper doll one, too, and a hand-art one that is fabulous.... Silly Putty and a newspaper - potentially messy, however.Vinyl resusable sticker books (they can stick the vinyl stickers to the car windows - no mess) and Mini-Aquadoodles (there is a tiny version, Sesame Street themed at Wal-Mart)I usually wrap everything in tissue paper and back it in individual back-packs and try to pace ourselves so we don't use all toys during the first hour. GOOD LUCK! We're driving to Vegas on Sat and have a bit of a haul, too. Not looking forward to it, lol.Silly putty and a newspaper, potentially messy, however. Vinyl reusable sticker books (they can stick the vinyl stickers to the car windows-no mess) and Mini Aquadoodles (there is a tiny version, Sesame Street themed ate WalMart) I usually wrap everything in tissue paper and pack it in individual back packs and try to pace ourselves so we don’t use all toys during the first hour!
Videos, coloring books, Leapster, stops at McD for lunch and dinner.
Oh, and pit stops - Starbucks sells their own mini-lunchable style snack box now... it is in the juice fridge section. It is easy to miss, it looks like a juice box. They usually sell fresh fruit and yogurt, too, and the kid's drinks are super cheap (they have luke warm hot chocolate for the kiddos, too).
It sounds awful, but... Benadryl. I always reason if my child is truly that distressed, it is as much for their comfort as mine. We have been on airlines where the flight attendants have actually offered us Benadryl, lol.
If they get tired of the watching the same movies you can get new ones at the red boxes when you stop for gas or lots of McDonalds have them. You don't have to return them to the same one you bought it from. Or you can get something for yourself (assuming you are the passenger and not the driver!) and tune everything out. Good luck.
Silly Putty and a newspaper - potentially messy, however.Vinyl resusable sticker books (they can stick the vinyl stickers to the car windows - no mess) and Mini-Aquadoodles (there is a tiny version, Sesame Street themed at Wal-Mart)I usually wrap everything in tissue paper and back it in individual back-packs and try to pace ourselves so we don't use all toys during the first hour. GOOD LUCK! We're driving to Vegas on Sat and have a bit of a haul, too. Not looking forward to it, lol.
Benadryl. just kidding! Best money I spent was on a 3 ring binder with pockets for stickers and inserts / add ins for crayons, markers, colored pencils, etc. Then I hole punched plain paper for drawing, coloring pages, educational pages with games (you can buy books at the store too). I also put an expandable folder in there with felt square
For a storyboard and their felt characters in ziplock bags. While the content has changed, my kids still take their binders with them on long trips 4 years later…
Oh - and pack something for them to do at rest stops - ball, jump rope, kite, etc.
When my kids were older, each one had his/her own Walkman....and I bought batteries before I bought GAS for the trip b/c I wanted those to work allll the way there! I guess this would be power for the DVD players now!
A cookie sheet with alphabet magnets...
10.05.2009
Potato Chip Christians
Potato chips sit in my kitchen and call my name, begging me to munch and crunch. Chocolate ice cream shouts my name from the freezer, offering its sweet, smooth delights. And crisp peanut butter cookies stalk me and practically leap into my hands.
Sometimes I yield to the siren call of these treats, munching my way into the resulting dullness. Carrying around the “ghosts of munchies past” is tiring and awkward, and then there are the costs of lost productivity from the sugar-high stupor. These results should be reason enough to avoid these toxic taste treats. Another problem is revealed by closer inspection.
The earliest memory any of us have in this area is our mothers chiding, “Don’t eat that now; it’s too close to supper and you won’t be hungry if you eat that now. Put it down, I said!”
The child’s mind is dizzied by the absurdity of abandoning the luxuries of cookies, sodas and chips in anticipation of those veggies, fruits, and proteins. Who needs nutrition anyway? And, doesn’t vitamin C stand for cookies? What kid in her right mind would choose peas over ice cream? (Vitamin I, that is.) Which grade-schooler would pick corn instead of corn chips? Not too many, I would imagine. (Especially since corn chips can be expressed scientifically as Vitamin C2.)
Kids of all ages know perfectly well that they can exist forever on an endless diet of chips, ice cream, cookies, cake, and popcorn. They would never be hungry and they would never realize the actual starvation they were creating. The youngsters would blithely munch their way to nutrition deficiencies, inadequate mental and physical development, and ultimate lethargy, never discerning their path to destruction.
Another group of folks, older and supposedly wiser, are known for the same unwise behaviors in another realm. (Some of them also cling to the “Vitamin C for Cookies” philosophy in the process.)
These quasi-adult Christians stuff their soul-faces with TV sodas, movie ice cream, cheap novel chips, and magazine popcorn. They have the strange idea that these imitation soul-foods are nutritious, helpful, and healthy so they pack them in, hours at a time.
Fake foods like this do stave off spiritual hunger, or at least mask it by covering the hungry spot in their souls, just like the kids covered the hungry spot in their physical stomachs with junk food. Spiritual junk food junkies gobble their way to deficiencies of faith, strength, joy, and Word-food. They live in a state of twilight-dull believism, never experiencing the vibrant, crisp, sharp, piercing reality of healthy wholeness in Christ. Everything is blurry, limp, lukewarm, and tired in their faith and their lives of faith.
Just like the kids who weren’t hungry at supper time, these adult kids arrive at the spiritual supper table of Sunday morning’s Bible preaching with no hunger, no desire for real food and they’re bored with it all, complaining that the preacher is too dull, too long-winded, too funny/humorless/old/young/tall/short/fat/thin…and on and on.
The real problem is not the sermon, though some are certainly better than others. The real problem is the condition of the hearers.
He who is full loathes honey, but to the hungry even what is bitter tastes sweet. Prov. 27:7 NIV
The full soul loatheth an honeycomb, but to the hungry soul, every bitter thing is sweet. Prov 27:7 KJV
No preacher can prepare a message that will taste good to the souls that are stuffed with spiritual junk food. The junk food-stuffed soul will refuse the finest food and go away quite hungry, and oblivious to the hunger as well. Just as children cannot appreciate the nutritional value in peas and carrots, these adults are blinded to the spiritual food in scripture and preaching because they have indulged in fake food for six days and arrive at the real supper table without hunger.
The person who arrives at the Sunday table hungry, with sharp hunger pangs, will find food in even the bitterest of sermons. Hunger just naturally creates an appetite that will appreciate food, regardless of the seasoning, presentation, or recipes involved in preparation. The hungry human wants food, period.
Children have mothers to monitor the junk food situation. Adults need to govern their own spiritual junk food intake.
A week filled with TV shows, soap operas, sports events, magazines, cheap novels, endless phone calls, movies, and music will produce a Sunday morning pew-sitter who feels no hunger at all and, as a result is unable to eat at the table of food prepared for him.
Jesus himself said, “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.” KJV
A modern paraphrase of this verse, Matthew 5:6 says, “You’re blessed when you've worked up a good appetite for God. He's food and drink in the best meal you'll ever eat.” (The Message)
If I know I’m headed for a big, nutritious meal, I try my best to arrive hungry. I do not fill up on junk food of any kind because I want to savor each bite of the food prepared by a kind hostess. I don’t eat cake, cookies, ice cream, chips, popcorn, or sodas en route. Actually, most of us have the good sense to follow this smart practice.
Why is it, then, that we prepare for Sunday morning’s meal by chugging down baskets of spiritual junk food? We arrive at the finest meal so dull and lethargic from the junk that we are totally unable to eat from the table prepared for us. And then we gripe that we are never fed spiritually!
The blame rests squarely on us, the spiritual junk food junkies. If we would arrive hungry, unaffected by the movies, magazines, sports, TV, and music, we would find the Sunday Supper Table full of nutrition from God’s Word and we would leave “fed with the finest of the wheat,” and satisfied with “honey out of the rock.” (Psalm 81:16 KJV)
Sometimes I yield to the siren call of these treats, munching my way into the resulting dullness. Carrying around the “ghosts of munchies past” is tiring and awkward, and then there are the costs of lost productivity from the sugar-high stupor. These results should be reason enough to avoid these toxic taste treats. Another problem is revealed by closer inspection.
The earliest memory any of us have in this area is our mothers chiding, “Don’t eat that now; it’s too close to supper and you won’t be hungry if you eat that now. Put it down, I said!”
The child’s mind is dizzied by the absurdity of abandoning the luxuries of cookies, sodas and chips in anticipation of those veggies, fruits, and proteins. Who needs nutrition anyway? And, doesn’t vitamin C stand for cookies? What kid in her right mind would choose peas over ice cream? (Vitamin I, that is.) Which grade-schooler would pick corn instead of corn chips? Not too many, I would imagine. (Especially since corn chips can be expressed scientifically as Vitamin C2.)
Kids of all ages know perfectly well that they can exist forever on an endless diet of chips, ice cream, cookies, cake, and popcorn. They would never be hungry and they would never realize the actual starvation they were creating. The youngsters would blithely munch their way to nutrition deficiencies, inadequate mental and physical development, and ultimate lethargy, never discerning their path to destruction.
Another group of folks, older and supposedly wiser, are known for the same unwise behaviors in another realm. (Some of them also cling to the “Vitamin C for Cookies” philosophy in the process.)
These quasi-adult Christians stuff their soul-faces with TV sodas, movie ice cream, cheap novel chips, and magazine popcorn. They have the strange idea that these imitation soul-foods are nutritious, helpful, and healthy so they pack them in, hours at a time.
Fake foods like this do stave off spiritual hunger, or at least mask it by covering the hungry spot in their souls, just like the kids covered the hungry spot in their physical stomachs with junk food. Spiritual junk food junkies gobble their way to deficiencies of faith, strength, joy, and Word-food. They live in a state of twilight-dull believism, never experiencing the vibrant, crisp, sharp, piercing reality of healthy wholeness in Christ. Everything is blurry, limp, lukewarm, and tired in their faith and their lives of faith.
Just like the kids who weren’t hungry at supper time, these adult kids arrive at the spiritual supper table of Sunday morning’s Bible preaching with no hunger, no desire for real food and they’re bored with it all, complaining that the preacher is too dull, too long-winded, too funny/humorless/old/young/tall/short/fat/thin…and on and on.
The real problem is not the sermon, though some are certainly better than others. The real problem is the condition of the hearers.
He who is full loathes honey, but to the hungry even what is bitter tastes sweet. Prov. 27:7 NIV
The full soul loatheth an honeycomb, but to the hungry soul, every bitter thing is sweet. Prov 27:7 KJV
No preacher can prepare a message that will taste good to the souls that are stuffed with spiritual junk food. The junk food-stuffed soul will refuse the finest food and go away quite hungry, and oblivious to the hunger as well. Just as children cannot appreciate the nutritional value in peas and carrots, these adults are blinded to the spiritual food in scripture and preaching because they have indulged in fake food for six days and arrive at the real supper table without hunger.
The person who arrives at the Sunday table hungry, with sharp hunger pangs, will find food in even the bitterest of sermons. Hunger just naturally creates an appetite that will appreciate food, regardless of the seasoning, presentation, or recipes involved in preparation. The hungry human wants food, period.
Children have mothers to monitor the junk food situation. Adults need to govern their own spiritual junk food intake.
A week filled with TV shows, soap operas, sports events, magazines, cheap novels, endless phone calls, movies, and music will produce a Sunday morning pew-sitter who feels no hunger at all and, as a result is unable to eat at the table of food prepared for him.
Jesus himself said, “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.” KJV
A modern paraphrase of this verse, Matthew 5:6 says, “You’re blessed when you've worked up a good appetite for God. He's food and drink in the best meal you'll ever eat.” (The Message)
If I know I’m headed for a big, nutritious meal, I try my best to arrive hungry. I do not fill up on junk food of any kind because I want to savor each bite of the food prepared by a kind hostess. I don’t eat cake, cookies, ice cream, chips, popcorn, or sodas en route. Actually, most of us have the good sense to follow this smart practice.
Why is it, then, that we prepare for Sunday morning’s meal by chugging down baskets of spiritual junk food? We arrive at the finest meal so dull and lethargic from the junk that we are totally unable to eat from the table prepared for us. And then we gripe that we are never fed spiritually!
The blame rests squarely on us, the spiritual junk food junkies. If we would arrive hungry, unaffected by the movies, magazines, sports, TV, and music, we would find the Sunday Supper Table full of nutrition from God’s Word and we would leave “fed with the finest of the wheat,” and satisfied with “honey out of the rock.” (Psalm 81:16 KJV)
8.02.2009
15
Numbers. They're just characters on the page, on the keyboard, right? 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6,...and so on. I even like numbers...until two of them ganged up on me today.
Those two numbers are "1" and "5." Simple enough. Both prime. But when they got together today they hatched a plot to make me feel old. As if I don't feel that way already, with grandchildren taller than I am. Even the small ones have feet bigger than mine, but that's not saying much.
No, I don't have 15 grandchildren, just 12. JUST 12, indeed! A glorious collection of leaders of tomorrow that all call me grandmother. Yes!
15 has me in its sights today. Lining up the shot, preparing to strike.
You see, I remember my parents' 15th wedding anniversary clearly. (Well, the day, the weekend...you'll see.) I was 13 and got braces that miserable Friday afternoon. We left town from the orthodontist's office to drive directly to my grandparents' home in Nashville, where my parents left me (mouth hurts by now!) and my sister for the weekend. They went off to celebrate their 15th anniversary without us kids, doing whatever parents do when they offload the kids and go away alone. (My mouth hurt, but maybe I was better off with my grandmother fussing over me and offering sympathy. )
That 15th anniversary was a long time ago, 45 years plus a few months.
The "15" that's attacking me, threatening me now is my daughter's 15th wedding anniversary, which is just a month away. She called today to ask if I could keep her children while she and her husband go away for a night and do whatever parents do when they offload kids and go away alone. Just like my parents. My firstborn has been married for 15 years? Not possible. How is this happening? Where have all those years gone? Vanished like a puff of smoke, I'd say.
So I feel like my parents' 15 years and my daughter's 15 years are pulling me, one pulling one way, the other in the opposite direction. One pulls to the past, the deep past, while the other pulls to the future. And I'm in between, looking first one way, then the other.
I'm deeply grateful for parents whose marriage was a life-long commitment. The example they set in this world of disposable marriage is a treasure indeed. They weren't perfect and their marriage wasn't perfect; I know because I lived with them for a long time! But their commitment was perfect and I'm blessed by that.
And I'm deeply grateful for my daughter's marriage, at the tender age of 15, which is also a life-long commitment. She benefits from the example set by her grandparents. Of course she does have all those kids to raise!
So here I sit in between them, pulled by the generations, amazed at the passing of time, and happy to be watching the parade.
Those two numbers are "1" and "5." Simple enough. Both prime. But when they got together today they hatched a plot to make me feel old. As if I don't feel that way already, with grandchildren taller than I am. Even the small ones have feet bigger than mine, but that's not saying much.
No, I don't have 15 grandchildren, just 12. JUST 12, indeed! A glorious collection of leaders of tomorrow that all call me grandmother. Yes!
15 has me in its sights today. Lining up the shot, preparing to strike.
You see, I remember my parents' 15th wedding anniversary clearly. (Well, the day, the weekend...you'll see.) I was 13 and got braces that miserable Friday afternoon. We left town from the orthodontist's office to drive directly to my grandparents' home in Nashville, where my parents left me (mouth hurts by now!) and my sister for the weekend. They went off to celebrate their 15th anniversary without us kids, doing whatever parents do when they offload the kids and go away alone. (My mouth hurt, but maybe I was better off with my grandmother fussing over me and offering sympathy. )
That 15th anniversary was a long time ago, 45 years plus a few months.
The "15" that's attacking me, threatening me now is my daughter's 15th wedding anniversary, which is just a month away. She called today to ask if I could keep her children while she and her husband go away for a night and do whatever parents do when they offload kids and go away alone. Just like my parents. My firstborn has been married for 15 years? Not possible. How is this happening? Where have all those years gone? Vanished like a puff of smoke, I'd say.
So I feel like my parents' 15 years and my daughter's 15 years are pulling me, one pulling one way, the other in the opposite direction. One pulls to the past, the deep past, while the other pulls to the future. And I'm in between, looking first one way, then the other.
I'm deeply grateful for parents whose marriage was a life-long commitment. The example they set in this world of disposable marriage is a treasure indeed. They weren't perfect and their marriage wasn't perfect; I know because I lived with them for a long time! But their commitment was perfect and I'm blessed by that.
And I'm deeply grateful for my daughter's marriage, at the tender age of 15, which is also a life-long commitment. She benefits from the example set by her grandparents. Of course she does have all those kids to raise!
So here I sit in between them, pulled by the generations, amazed at the passing of time, and happy to be watching the parade.
3.05.2009
Designer
When I saw this conglomeration of carpet patterns, I thought the carpet layer must have lost his mind. It looked like he was working with the scraps from all his other jobs and just threw all this together to cover some bare concrete. No pattern, no plan, just looked like random pieces thrown together. This was the picture I took of the carpet at my feet today. All the patterns were visually jarring and this view certainly left a lot to be desired.
Everywhere my feet went, this was the view beside them, this patchwork of carpet, unplanned, and mismatched. I liked the various colors well enough, but could not imagine why they were put together in these patterns, so ragged and inscrutable.
Walking on, I kept looking at what was beneath my feet, pondering this odd carpet situation. After a while I began to 
see that the carpet is a lot like how I see my life: strange-shaped pieces of mismatched odd colors.
see that the carpet is a lot like how I see my life: strange-shaped pieces of mismatched odd colors. Pianist and musician: I do this fairly well and enjoy it.
Writer: I love to write, when I just sit down and do it...like now!
Wife: Some days I'm fairly good at this.
Mother/Grandmother: Love them all but don't think I do these roles as well as they should be done.
Bible student: Studying the Bible is food to me...when I actually do it.
Friend: I hope I'm a good friend to some...
I don't see how all these fit together and make any difference. What on earth does all this amount to? Am I just thrashing around in chaotic, mismatched hours and days, with no real purpose to it all?
After walking for a while, I happened to glance up from my feet, looking forward some distance across a large open space filled with these randomly mismatched pieces of carpet. And this is when I saw an amazing pattern emerge from the confusion. What had been ugly became beautiful as the different patches of carpet fit together to form the ribbons and rivers of carpet across the expanse of this room. Amazing!
The carpet layer had not been mad in his chaos; rather, he had seen the pattern from the beginning. He was creating beauty, using what had seemed to be no plan, ugly scraps, and thoughtless work. I loved the design! The colors were beautiful and the patterns were a delight to my eyes.
Then I considered my life: perhaps there is a viewpoint higher than "right at my feet" where most of it seems like so many scraps of carpet hastily glued together. Maybe there is a plan, a pattern, a design...easily seen and understood by the designer, if not by me.
I seem to remember reading some things this Designer said about the patchwork carpet of my life:
"I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."
He says he " has saved me and called me to a holy life--not because of anything I have done but because of his own purpose and grace."
"And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose."
"For we are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do. "
"The LORD will perfect that which concerns me; Your mercy, O LORD, endures forever; Do not forsake the works of Your hands."
I'm starting to think He planned for me all along! And those scraps of my life, maybe, just maybe, from His viewpoint they make...or will make...a beautiful pattern, the work of His hands, not mine.
3.02.2009
When Reading the Bible is a Waste of Time
I did not write this article. It was written by a young friend of mine, Bryan Mowrey. His thoughts are starkly sobering to me...that's why I'm sharing it here.
I began regularly teaching the Bible four years ago at Jubilee Church St. Louis. And since then, there are several verses that sober me if not haunt me. Such as…
James 3:1, “Let not many of you become teachers, my brethren, knowing that as such we will incur stricter judgment.”
Mark 9:42, “Whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, it would be better for him if a great millstone were hung around his neck and he were thrown into the sea.”
These verses (along with many others) are strong warnings to be keep my teaching Biblical and about Jesus, but none more haunting for me than John 5:38-40, Jesus addressed the Pharisees (who had the OT memorized) by saying,
“38 and you do not have his word abiding in you, for you do not believe the one whom he has sent. 39 You search the Scriptures because you think that in them you have eternal life; and it is they that bear witness about me, 40 yet you refuse to come to me that you may have life.”
As one who studies and teaches the Bible, these verses are especially sobering because they say that it is possible to read the Bible and do so in vain. When might our study of Scripture be in vain? When we make Scripture an end itself and fail to see Jesus as the trajectory of any text that we are reading, studying or preaching.
Life and ultimate truth is not found in the study of Scripture if it doesn’t lead us to Jesus. When Jesus is taken out of the equation, reading the Bible is a waste of time at best and can even become an idol (something we value over God).
How Can we Then Make the Most of Reading the Bible?
I think Luke 24:44-45 gives us the best answer,
“Now He said to them (the disciples), ‘these are My words which I spoke to you while I was still with you, that all things which are written about Me in the Law of Moses and the Prophets and the Psalms must be fulfilled.’ Then He opened their minds to understand the Scriptures.”
Bottom line to getting the most out reading the Bible is to have Jesus Himself open our minds to understand the Scriptures and show us that they are really about Him. Having the best study tools won’t help you if Jesus doesn’t “open your mind”. Without Jesus, reading Scripture is as helpful as turning on the lights for a blind man. For sight to occur you need both light (external) and a good eye (internal). To understand Scripture you need to actually read it (external).
However, reading it isn’t enough. Jesus needs to open your mind (internal). Otherwise, you get caught up in the same game the Pharisees did called religion, legalism and idolatry. Therefore, pray before your read. Pray that He will open your mind to true understanding.
I began regularly teaching the Bible four years ago at Jubilee Church St. Louis. And since then, there are several verses that sober me if not haunt me. Such as…
James 3:1, “Let not many of you become teachers, my brethren, knowing that as such we will incur stricter judgment.”
Mark 9:42, “Whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, it would be better for him if a great millstone were hung around his neck and he were thrown into the sea.”
These verses (along with many others) are strong warnings to be keep my teaching Biblical and about Jesus, but none more haunting for me than John 5:38-40, Jesus addressed the Pharisees (who had the OT memorized) by saying,
“38 and you do not have his word abiding in you, for you do not believe the one whom he has sent. 39 You search the Scriptures because you think that in them you have eternal life; and it is they that bear witness about me, 40 yet you refuse to come to me that you may have life.”
As one who studies and teaches the Bible, these verses are especially sobering because they say that it is possible to read the Bible and do so in vain. When might our study of Scripture be in vain? When we make Scripture an end itself and fail to see Jesus as the trajectory of any text that we are reading, studying or preaching.
Life and ultimate truth is not found in the study of Scripture if it doesn’t lead us to Jesus. When Jesus is taken out of the equation, reading the Bible is a waste of time at best and can even become an idol (something we value over God).
How Can we Then Make the Most of Reading the Bible?
I think Luke 24:44-45 gives us the best answer,
“Now He said to them (the disciples), ‘these are My words which I spoke to you while I was still with you, that all things which are written about Me in the Law of Moses and the Prophets and the Psalms must be fulfilled.’ Then He opened their minds to understand the Scriptures.”
Bottom line to getting the most out reading the Bible is to have Jesus Himself open our minds to understand the Scriptures and show us that they are really about Him. Having the best study tools won’t help you if Jesus doesn’t “open your mind”. Without Jesus, reading Scripture is as helpful as turning on the lights for a blind man. For sight to occur you need both light (external) and a good eye (internal). To understand Scripture you need to actually read it (external).
However, reading it isn’t enough. Jesus needs to open your mind (internal). Otherwise, you get caught up in the same game the Pharisees did called religion, legalism and idolatry. Therefore, pray before your read. Pray that He will open your mind to true understanding.
2.21.2009
Peace Enough
I'm convinced in my head that God is more than enough, that He truly supplies every need I have. But if you watch me live, you'll know that my heart is lagging behind.
Peace. Yes, I need peace. I want it on my own terms, so sometimes I can be heard griping that someone disturbed my peace. My peace, not His.
His peace is undisturbable. So, if my peace is disturbed, I must need to get back to His peace. Instead, I insist that peace come to me by my own plans, my own maneuvering, and sometimes, by responding without perfect love to those nearest to me.
My peace or His peace? There's no choice!
2.15.2009
Creeds
"I believe in God, the Father almighty, creator of heaven and earth.
"I believe in Jesus Christ, his only Son, our Lord, who was conceived by the Holy Spirit, born of the virgin Mary, suffered under Pontius Pilate,, was crucified, died, and was buried; he descended to the dead. On the third day he rose again; he ascended into heaven, he is seated at the right hand of the Father, and he will come to judge the living and the dead.
"I believe in the Holy Spirit, the holy catholic Church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting.
Amen
These words were a pivotal part in the worship meeting we attended today. These words are so meaningful, such food to my deepest soul. How wonderful to say, out loud, the core beliefs of our faith. I was nourishe, fed in this.
Also included were scripture reading by a member of the congregation, with parts read by others in the crowd for drama and emphasis.
There were many scripture readings, more than practically any church meeting I've ever experienced.
We were blessed!
"I believe in Jesus Christ, his only Son, our Lord, who was conceived by the Holy Spirit, born of the virgin Mary, suffered under Pontius Pilate,, was crucified, died, and was buried; he descended to the dead. On the third day he rose again; he ascended into heaven, he is seated at the right hand of the Father, and he will come to judge the living and the dead.
"I believe in the Holy Spirit, the holy catholic Church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting.
Amen
These words were a pivotal part in the worship meeting we attended today. These words are so meaningful, such food to my deepest soul. How wonderful to say, out loud, the core beliefs of our faith. I was nourishe, fed in this.
Also included were scripture reading by a member of the congregation, with parts read by others in the crowd for drama and emphasis.
There were many scripture readings, more than practically any church meeting I've ever experienced.
We were blessed!
2.10.2009
Lenses...
I have a new camera and maybe a new hobby. As if I had time for a new hobby. But anyway, the new camera is very basic Digital SLR and I'm learning.
There are probably too many menu settings for me to get my lil ol brain around, but I'm trying. Too many buttons and too many options. I may someday understand all the numbers and code language used by the smart photographers.
Until then, I'm playing with the two lenses I have. Well, I'm playing with my favorite lens. It zooms out to kingdom come and it's amazing. I love to take a close-up shot of that distant snow-covered tree. Love to zoom in on an animal far out in the woods. I see things through the viewfinder that are more than I ever imagined were there. But they are all real things. The only difference is that I never noticed or saw them before.
Through this lens, the leaf looks more detailed, greener or browner. The squirrel's eye is intricately active. The twinkle of sunlight on the icy twig is diamond-like in its brilliance. The perspective of the icy branch against the nearby red barn is wonderful contrast. Seeing the lone duck far out in the water, hunting for food is its own wonder.
I'm wondering what lens I use to view life, the daily, normal life I lead.
Do I use a lens that makes everything look dark? Do I assume the worst attitudes and motives in others? Or do I use a lens that tells me people are God's precious creation in his image and to be treasured?
Does my life-lens tell me the worst thing will happen in life's situations? Or does my lens tell me there is hope, joy, and that nothing is impossible?
Do I use my life's zoom lens to focus on the special beauty in the lives of others? Or do I use it to ferret out the unpleasant and ugly spot that is hidden from view without my zooming in on it?
Is my default lens one that lets in light and joy? Or does my lens see shaded, gray, dreary days and future?
I can change lenses on my new camera to get a different perspective on the vista in front of me. I wonder if I can change the lense of my life?
Can I choose to think only about what is "true, honest, just, lovely, pure, virtuous and praiseworthy" allowing only these thoughts onto the disk of my life?
Does my lens need to be cleaned from the smudges of life? God's glory and goodness have made it possible to "escape the corruption in the world".
My new camera has a built-in system for cleaning the interior parts of the camera every time it's turned on. This removes dust that would obscure perfect images coming in from the lens.
Could I have an automatic system like that in my life, my mind? Hmmm...Can I renew my mind constantly so it only sees what it should see and thinks what it should think?
Perhaps if I poured enough of the "milk of the Word" into my mind, the lens would only see what God wants me to see, think what God wants me to think, and would react to life in ways that would be pleasing to God.
Your Word is a lamp to my feet...a light to my path...and to the path of my mind.
Amen.
There are probably too many menu settings for me to get my lil ol brain around, but I'm trying. Too many buttons and too many options. I may someday understand all the numbers and code language used by the smart photographers.
Until then, I'm playing with the two lenses I have. Well, I'm playing with my favorite lens. It zooms out to kingdom come and it's amazing. I love to take a close-up shot of that distant snow-covered tree. Love to zoom in on an animal far out in the woods. I see things through the viewfinder that are more than I ever imagined were there. But they are all real things. The only difference is that I never noticed or saw them before.
Through this lens, the leaf looks more detailed, greener or browner. The squirrel's eye is intricately active. The twinkle of sunlight on the icy twig is diamond-like in its brilliance. The perspective of the icy branch against the nearby red barn is wonderful contrast. Seeing the lone duck far out in the water, hunting for food is its own wonder.
I'm wondering what lens I use to view life, the daily, normal life I lead.
Do I use a lens that makes everything look dark? Do I assume the worst attitudes and motives in others? Or do I use a lens that tells me people are God's precious creation in his image and to be treasured?
Does my life-lens tell me the worst thing will happen in life's situations? Or does my lens tell me there is hope, joy, and that nothing is impossible?
Do I use my life's zoom lens to focus on the special beauty in the lives of others? Or do I use it to ferret out the unpleasant and ugly spot that is hidden from view without my zooming in on it?
Is my default lens one that lets in light and joy? Or does my lens see shaded, gray, dreary days and future?
I can change lenses on my new camera to get a different perspective on the vista in front of me. I wonder if I can change the lense of my life?
Can I choose to think only about what is "true, honest, just, lovely, pure, virtuous and praiseworthy" allowing only these thoughts onto the disk of my life?
Does my lens need to be cleaned from the smudges of life? God's glory and goodness have made it possible to "escape the corruption in the world".
My new camera has a built-in system for cleaning the interior parts of the camera every time it's turned on. This removes dust that would obscure perfect images coming in from the lens.
Could I have an automatic system like that in my life, my mind? Hmmm...Can I renew my mind constantly so it only sees what it should see and thinks what it should think?
Perhaps if I poured enough of the "milk of the Word" into my mind, the lens would only see what God wants me to see, think what God wants me to think, and would react to life in ways that would be pleasing to God.
Your Word is a lamp to my feet...a light to my path...and to the path of my mind.
Amen.
1.14.2009
Hobby Lobby
I love Hobby Lobby. I actually got to go to a store today...just didn't stay long enough. Not only did I find what I went for, but other stuff too.
The really nice surprise there is clickin' along, wanting everything I see...and suddenly realizing it's "He Leadeth Me" playing on the store speakers. Wow! I had forgotten that Hobby Lobby is owned and operated by radical Christian folks who don't mind a bit being obvious about it. Hooray!
At Christmas time, they publish a full-page ad in major newspapers that is totally Christ-centered. It's not "season" centered, not "holiday" centered, certainly not "santa" centered...just Jesus, all the way. Awesome ad.
So, go support your local Hobby Lobby. It will do your soul good even if your wallet feels a little bit of pain!
The really nice surprise there is clickin' along, wanting everything I see...and suddenly realizing it's "He Leadeth Me" playing on the store speakers. Wow! I had forgotten that Hobby Lobby is owned and operated by radical Christian folks who don't mind a bit being obvious about it. Hooray!
At Christmas time, they publish a full-page ad in major newspapers that is totally Christ-centered. It's not "season" centered, not "holiday" centered, certainly not "santa" centered...just Jesus, all the way. Awesome ad.
So, go support your local Hobby Lobby. It will do your soul good even if your wallet feels a little bit of pain!
Rainbow Life
Our Rainbow Life
We don’t need rain at our house to be talking about all the pretty colors. Colors are the only hope to sorting out a certain thorny issue. It’s a year-round issue too because our room is always cold. I live with Frosty the Snowman, remember?
You see, I truly hate the fuzzy blanket anywhere near my face in bed. Can’t stand it. I have always carefully folded the sheet over the top and kept it there all through the night. When we were first married, it was so romantic to realize in the middle of the night that Floyd was carefully folding that sheet over the top because I liked it that way.
Like a lot of early-newlywed events and practices, this one faded in the glare of real life and pretty soon that fuzzy blanket was back in my face. Then we had the phase of me folding my side of the sheet over the top and him not. (Go try this…it doesn’t work. Both sides have to be doing the same thing.) Stress and tension:
He: “How ridiculous…why does she insist on this silly, insignificant thing?”
She: “If he really cares, why can’t he do this one little, bitty thing for me?”
So we blanket-stressed our way down the marriage road. Until the night we bought a comforter and the duvet cover for it. That one was green and it's my favorite! But then we realized the green one was really too warm for lots of nights and never OK in the summer. So we bought a medium-weight comforter...and a blue duvet cover for it. So it's green and blue. But in the summer, when the a/c only gets our room down to sixty, both of those are too warm.
What to do? Buy a cheap ordinary quilt and put it in yet another duvet cover...white. Well it's really more like creamy vanilla, but Floyd just doesn't function with many color names beyond red, yellow, and blue!
So, at any given bedtime there's a discussion: "What color is it tonight?" "I don't know but I was too hot/cold last night so we have to change." Oh, but I was too cold/hot last night." And on we go. Laughing, by the way. Somebody picks a color and we settle in for the night, both hoping the temp works out right!!
But purple is our very favorite color! No purple duvet, mind you. This is my purple pillow cases.
To understand this, you need to know that Floyd can't count all his pillows on his fingers AND toes. This man is always trying to find the perfect combo of pillows. All night. And when he stirs in the night, trying to fine tune the pillows, he grabs any pillow he feels in the dark, regardless of WHO might be using that pillow at the time.
Purple has solved that one! I got purple pillow cases for my modest two or three pillows. They're pretty and NONE of his pillows are purple!!
All this leads to the middle of one particular toss-and-turn night. I was stirred from sleep by the great pillow grabber...snatching one of my PURPLE pillows. Well, I can grab pillows too, so I took it right back. The Snatcher, feeling the stress in the air, innocently muttered, "How was I supposed to know that one was yours?"
(You should know I'm a little steamed at this point...thinking "just leave it alone, OK?")
But the answer that ended all the stress and solved the pillow war that night was, "Because it FEELS purple, that's why!!" Then we both cracked up laughing at 2:43 a.m., resorted all the pillows and went back to sleep.
Now why did you need to know this? Marriage brings an (apparently) endless string of opportunities to work together, cooperate, and just be nice. I give us a B+ for handling this one, but just a B+, even though it got funny.
In the best marriage handbook of all there are several tips:
Treat others like you would like to be treated.
Don't think about your own problems, but rather the problems of others.
Give up all your rights and be a servant. (And give up my purple pillows???)
Give thanks in the middle of everything. (No whining??)
Choose what the other guy wants over what you want. (But....but....!!)
When I remember what the Handbook has to say, problems are all solved better and love and peace reign. When I solve it "my way" (thinking only about what I want, when I want it, the way I want it) peace and love are often absent. I need those two, so maybe I'll work on following the directions!
We don’t need rain at our house to be talking about all the pretty colors. Colors are the only hope to sorting out a certain thorny issue. It’s a year-round issue too because our room is always cold. I live with Frosty the Snowman, remember?
You see, I truly hate the fuzzy blanket anywhere near my face in bed. Can’t stand it. I have always carefully folded the sheet over the top and kept it there all through the night. When we were first married, it was so romantic to realize in the middle of the night that Floyd was carefully folding that sheet over the top because I liked it that way.
Like a lot of early-newlywed events and practices, this one faded in the glare of real life and pretty soon that fuzzy blanket was back in my face. Then we had the phase of me folding my side of the sheet over the top and him not. (Go try this…it doesn’t work. Both sides have to be doing the same thing.) Stress and tension:
He: “How ridiculous…why does she insist on this silly, insignificant thing?”
She: “If he really cares, why can’t he do this one little, bitty thing for me?”
So we blanket-stressed our way down the marriage road. Until the night we bought a comforter and the duvet cover for it. That one was green and it's my favorite! But then we realized the green one was really too warm for lots of nights and never OK in the summer. So we bought a medium-weight comforter...and a blue duvet cover for it. So it's green and blue. But in the summer, when the a/c only gets our room down to sixty, both of those are too warm.
What to do? Buy a cheap ordinary quilt and put it in yet another duvet cover...white. Well it's really more like creamy vanilla, but Floyd just doesn't function with many color names beyond red, yellow, and blue!
So, at any given bedtime there's a discussion: "What color is it tonight?" "I don't know but I was too hot/cold last night so we have to change." Oh, but I was too cold/hot last night." And on we go. Laughing, by the way. Somebody picks a color and we settle in for the night, both hoping the temp works out right!!
But purple is our very favorite color! No purple duvet, mind you. This is my purple pillow cases.
To understand this, you need to know that Floyd can't count all his pillows on his fingers AND toes. This man is always trying to find the perfect combo of pillows. All night. And when he stirs in the night, trying to fine tune the pillows, he grabs any pillow he feels in the dark, regardless of WHO might be using that pillow at the time.
Purple has solved that one! I got purple pillow cases for my modest two or three pillows. They're pretty and NONE of his pillows are purple!!
All this leads to the middle of one particular toss-and-turn night. I was stirred from sleep by the great pillow grabber...snatching one of my PURPLE pillows. Well, I can grab pillows too, so I took it right back. The Snatcher, feeling the stress in the air, innocently muttered, "How was I supposed to know that one was yours?"
(You should know I'm a little steamed at this point...thinking "just leave it alone, OK?")
But the answer that ended all the stress and solved the pillow war that night was, "Because it FEELS purple, that's why!!" Then we both cracked up laughing at 2:43 a.m., resorted all the pillows and went back to sleep.
Now why did you need to know this? Marriage brings an (apparently) endless string of opportunities to work together, cooperate, and just be nice. I give us a B+ for handling this one, but just a B+, even though it got funny.
In the best marriage handbook of all there are several tips:
Treat others like you would like to be treated.
Don't think about your own problems, but rather the problems of others.
Give up all your rights and be a servant. (And give up my purple pillows???)
Give thanks in the middle of everything. (No whining??)
Choose what the other guy wants over what you want. (But....but....!!)
When I remember what the Handbook has to say, problems are all solved better and love and peace reign. When I solve it "my way" (thinking only about what I want, when I want it, the way I want it) peace and love are often absent. I need those two, so maybe I'll work on following the directions!
7.21.2008
Morning Light
It was a Little House on the Prairie night at the Coates house yesterday.
The storm's arrival was greeted by Floyd and Anne sitting on the porch LOVING the wind and rain and lightning...generally enjoying the show God was putting on for us.
Shortly into the performance, we realized the electricity had gone out...not too unusual for our area in a storm. No problem, right? Wrong.
Floyd called the power company to tell them we were powerless and learned that it would all be fixed by 9 pm. Great, since, thanks to wonderful Daylight Saving Time (in Indiana only the Gov and I like it!) it's light long after 9.
But when he called again for an update, the recording said it would be 5 AM before all was fixed. Oops.
This news left us scurrying about finding candles, matches (where are those easy lighters?) and the never-used oil lamps that are so stinky. What about flashlights? Do we have any batteries? It's getting dark fast here...
My most strategic move was to latch the gate that blocks the stairs to the basement...usually used to corral all the babies but quite useful to prevent a painful journey in the dark.
Floyd can not sleep without a fan blowing in his face, period. (Remind me to get a big ol' battery fan...one that uses about 12 D batteries.) Anyway the solution to this dilemma will amaze you.
My genius husband went to the bathtub to think. (Friends and family have the picture here...) He did these inscrutable calculations in his head about how much power the fan uses in an hour, how much power needed til 5 am, how much power in his car battery...you're getting the picture....and then connected a loooong extension cord from his car in the garage allll the way across the house to our bedroom and the fan he needed. His calculations had showed him that the car battery would power the fan until the electricity came on again so this was a good solution. This man planned for the fact that his car battery would probably be dead by morning but it was worth it to have the fan running.
4 a.m. came with me awake AGAIN realizing I was chilly. Wait! What's that noise? Oh, it's the air conditioner! What's that light....hooray! The power is on! We survived our Little House on the Prairie night. Still don't know whether the car will start though.
I rested in the darkness of the bedroom thinking about how nice it would be when the sun came up and we could see again without help from Duke Energy. I knew I could depend on that ol' sun to show up at the right time. No doubt about that. I thought about the watchman of old who waited for the morning light...
My soul waits for the Lord more than watchmen wait for the morning, more than watchmen wait for the morning. (Psalm 130:6, NIV)
I was that watchman for a few moments, waiting for the light.
But does my soul wait for the Lord more than the watchman waits for morning? One grand similarity here: the Lord will come, as sure as the sunrise. I wait for Him, daily, to come and live His life in me.
The storm's arrival was greeted by Floyd and Anne sitting on the porch LOVING the wind and rain and lightning...generally enjoying the show God was putting on for us.
Shortly into the performance, we realized the electricity had gone out...not too unusual for our area in a storm. No problem, right? Wrong.
Floyd called the power company to tell them we were powerless and learned that it would all be fixed by 9 pm. Great, since, thanks to wonderful Daylight Saving Time (in Indiana only the Gov and I like it!) it's light long after 9.
But when he called again for an update, the recording said it would be 5 AM before all was fixed. Oops.
This news left us scurrying about finding candles, matches (where are those easy lighters?) and the never-used oil lamps that are so stinky. What about flashlights? Do we have any batteries? It's getting dark fast here...
My most strategic move was to latch the gate that blocks the stairs to the basement...usually used to corral all the babies but quite useful to prevent a painful journey in the dark.
Floyd can not sleep without a fan blowing in his face, period. (Remind me to get a big ol' battery fan...one that uses about 12 D batteries.) Anyway the solution to this dilemma will amaze you.
My genius husband went to the bathtub to think. (Friends and family have the picture here...) He did these inscrutable calculations in his head about how much power the fan uses in an hour, how much power needed til 5 am, how much power in his car battery...you're getting the picture....and then connected a loooong extension cord from his car in the garage allll the way across the house to our bedroom and the fan he needed. His calculations had showed him that the car battery would power the fan until the electricity came on again so this was a good solution. This man planned for the fact that his car battery would probably be dead by morning but it was worth it to have the fan running.
4 a.m. came with me awake AGAIN realizing I was chilly. Wait! What's that noise? Oh, it's the air conditioner! What's that light....hooray! The power is on! We survived our Little House on the Prairie night. Still don't know whether the car will start though.
I rested in the darkness of the bedroom thinking about how nice it would be when the sun came up and we could see again without help from Duke Energy. I knew I could depend on that ol' sun to show up at the right time. No doubt about that. I thought about the watchman of old who waited for the morning light...
My soul waits for the Lord more than watchmen wait for the morning, more than watchmen wait for the morning. (Psalm 130:6, NIV)
I was that watchman for a few moments, waiting for the light.
But does my soul wait for the Lord more than the watchman waits for morning? One grand similarity here: the Lord will come, as sure as the sunrise. I wait for Him, daily, to come and live His life in me.
IICS-Kansas City
What a weekend! We've just returned from the annual IICS Vision Conference in Kansas City and it's like the day after Christmas.
The professors and their spouses whose commitment to Christ makes them gladly leave home, comfort, family, status and tenure to teach in some foreign university are amazing. Some of the universities they go to don't even post class assignments until the day before class begins...but these people go willingly, hungry to share Jesus with the students.
They go to reasonably comfortable posts and they go to spots that have very little electricity and miserable weather. All this is without complaint.
These people are my heroes; their determination to serve Christ in this way is awesome.
Take a look at IICS at www.iics.com
The professors and their spouses whose commitment to Christ makes them gladly leave home, comfort, family, status and tenure to teach in some foreign university are amazing. Some of the universities they go to don't even post class assignments until the day before class begins...but these people go willingly, hungry to share Jesus with the students.
They go to reasonably comfortable posts and they go to spots that have very little electricity and miserable weather. All this is without complaint.
These people are my heroes; their determination to serve Christ in this way is awesome.
Take a look at IICS at www.iics.com
7.13.2008
Rest
I think about rest a lot but rarely rest. Kinda silly when you think about the fact that even God rested. He worked hard for six days, then rested. God even has a plan for the dirt to rest. I think need to rest.
Rest is more than sleep, I think. I listened to a doctor talk about rest from work, rest from stress, rest from noise, rest from too many sensory inputs (like I'm on the phone, emailing, and "watching" the news on TV.
Psalm 116:7 says, "Return to your rest, O my soul, For the LORD has dealt bountifully with you." Apparently the Psalmist was speaking to a soul like mine that had drifted from rest.
Isaiah 14:7 says, "The whole earth is at rest and is quiet;" Rarely is that true in our chaotic world.
Isaiah 63:14 says, "The Spirit of the LORD gave them rest." This is my prayer that He would do the same for me.
Best of all, Jesus himself says, "Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest."
He has invited me to come to Him so He can give me rest.
I hear ya', Lord. I'm coming.
Rest is more than sleep, I think. I listened to a doctor talk about rest from work, rest from stress, rest from noise, rest from too many sensory inputs (like I'm on the phone, emailing, and "watching" the news on TV.
Psalm 116:7 says, "Return to your rest, O my soul, For the LORD has dealt bountifully with you." Apparently the Psalmist was speaking to a soul like mine that had drifted from rest.
Isaiah 14:7 says, "The whole earth is at rest and is quiet;" Rarely is that true in our chaotic world.
Isaiah 63:14 says, "The Spirit of the LORD gave them rest." This is my prayer that He would do the same for me.
Best of all, Jesus himself says, "Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest."
He has invited me to come to Him so He can give me rest.
I hear ya', Lord. I'm coming.
7.07.2008
Elephants
I've never been on safari in Africa to see elephants. I don't even want to go. I've seen a few elephants in zoos in my live. They are big, gray, funny-looking, and they stink. The most notable fact about elephants is that they are big. Really big.
If you had an elephant in your living room you would know he was there. You wouldn't be able to see the door, windows, TV or much else. I have a big living room, but even in mine, the elephant's presence would be obvious and un-ignorable. And then there's the odor. Even a blind man would know something was wrong in the living room!
Savanas, zoos, and living rooms (at least hypothetically) can have elephants in them. But there is one other place an elephant can try to hide: in relationships.
The elephant in a relationship is the one issue that is obvious to both parties but is never hinted, mentioned, acknowledged, or discussed. The elephant stands there, blocking the view of other good parts of the relationship, stinking up the room, and generally being a nuisance, but nobody does anything to evict him.
Sometimes we're afraid of elephants. Maybe trying to push the guy out of the "room" would cause him to make a bigger stink. (Maybe he learned something from his skunk cousins?) Maybe we've just gotten so used to having him there we're not sure how life would look without him. We've learned so many "work-arounds" to deal with his presence we would hardly know how to behave if he left. (I mean, what if you could actually get from the kitchen to the bedroom without always crawling over the back of the sofa?)
The metaphor is maxed out here, so on to the point. In personal relationships, quit ignoring the elephants! Pray, wait for the right time, and then talk about them.
Don't just keep tiptoeing around a land-mine issue. Gently, prayerfully, talk. Open the subject, talk, love and work through it.
Getting a real elephant out of your house might take a little time. He probably came in as a small baby elephant and now he's grown into a many-ton smelly problem. You might have to remove doors or windows or walls or even the ceiling to get him out. (Maybe Someone from above could help?) But it would be worth it. Getting an elephant totally out of a relationship may take time too, but the time and effort would be worth it.
Just think, after the project is completed, you can see each other across the room again, not crawl over the back of the sofa, and not live with a clamp on your nose to keep out the smell.
What's your elephant's name? Don't be afraid of him. Name him. Name him to the other person in the relationship. Discuss him. Plan what has to be done for the final eviction. Then do it.
Here's to spacious, comfortable, warm, easy relationships...with fresh breezes blowing through them.
If you had an elephant in your living room you would know he was there. You wouldn't be able to see the door, windows, TV or much else. I have a big living room, but even in mine, the elephant's presence would be obvious and un-ignorable. And then there's the odor. Even a blind man would know something was wrong in the living room!
Savanas, zoos, and living rooms (at least hypothetically) can have elephants in them. But there is one other place an elephant can try to hide: in relationships.
The elephant in a relationship is the one issue that is obvious to both parties but is never hinted, mentioned, acknowledged, or discussed. The elephant stands there, blocking the view of other good parts of the relationship, stinking up the room, and generally being a nuisance, but nobody does anything to evict him.
Sometimes we're afraid of elephants. Maybe trying to push the guy out of the "room" would cause him to make a bigger stink. (Maybe he learned something from his skunk cousins?) Maybe we've just gotten so used to having him there we're not sure how life would look without him. We've learned so many "work-arounds" to deal with his presence we would hardly know how to behave if he left. (I mean, what if you could actually get from the kitchen to the bedroom without always crawling over the back of the sofa?)
The metaphor is maxed out here, so on to the point. In personal relationships, quit ignoring the elephants! Pray, wait for the right time, and then talk about them.
Don't just keep tiptoeing around a land-mine issue. Gently, prayerfully, talk. Open the subject, talk, love and work through it.
Getting a real elephant out of your house might take a little time. He probably came in as a small baby elephant and now he's grown into a many-ton smelly problem. You might have to remove doors or windows or walls or even the ceiling to get him out. (Maybe Someone from above could help?) But it would be worth it. Getting an elephant totally out of a relationship may take time too, but the time and effort would be worth it.
Just think, after the project is completed, you can see each other across the room again, not crawl over the back of the sofa, and not live with a clamp on your nose to keep out the smell.
What's your elephant's name? Don't be afraid of him. Name him. Name him to the other person in the relationship. Discuss him. Plan what has to be done for the final eviction. Then do it.
Here's to spacious, comfortable, warm, easy relationships...with fresh breezes blowing through them.
7.04.2008
Junaluska Morning
Lake Junaluska, North Carolina is one of my favorite places on earth. My grandparents bought a small house there when I was a baby. That was quite a few years ago! I love that place! Everything about the creaky floors, old furniture, weird parking arrangements, wacky shower curtain, metal kitchen cabinets is wonderful.
The best thing of all is the view of the lake from the back porch and the squeaky rocking chairs that must be five pounds heavier than when they were made because of all the paint that's been put on them over all these years.
Looking across the lake to the mountains beyond, usually with the Smoky Mountain haze present, is an oasis for me. I'm reminded of the strength of the mountains and how they are part of God's creative works.
I have so many memories of this very porch and this exact view.
Across the lake is a train track; about once a day a train actually goes by and you can hear the whistle in the distance.
In the evening, the double-decker pontoon boat full of happy tourists rides around the lake. We always went on the boat at least once in our childhood visits. My grandmother never went along; instead she stayed at the house and waved a bright tablecloth so we could see the house on the side of the mountain.
Mornings found my grandfather working in his rose bushes right outside our basement bedroom windows. He loved those roses! He usually had tomatoes growing too...red and yellow. He liked the yellow ones best.
On rainy days...that's what got me started on this today...we stayed in the house and played Gin Rummy and Shanghai. I think he let me win too much!
Rainy days are always Junaluska Days for me. This morning we had gentle, steady rain for a few hours. No wind, just rain. I sat on the porch remembering all the Junaluska mornings and pretending I was actually there.
I pretended there was morning fog just beyond my trees. I was sure I could see the mountains peeking over the top of my little hill. I pretended I heard the screen door slam announcing my parents were coming up for breakfast. I pretended I heard my grandmother banging around in the kitchen. She really was noisy in there.
Funny thing, while I pretended, I also enjoyed my trees, my porch, and the rain right here in Indiana. I am blessed to have these, blessed to have the rain, and blessed to know the one who made the mountains and the rain, wherever I am.
The best thing of all is the view of the lake from the back porch and the squeaky rocking chairs that must be five pounds heavier than when they were made because of all the paint that's been put on them over all these years.
Looking across the lake to the mountains beyond, usually with the Smoky Mountain haze present, is an oasis for me. I'm reminded of the strength of the mountains and how they are part of God's creative works.
I have so many memories of this very porch and this exact view.
Across the lake is a train track; about once a day a train actually goes by and you can hear the whistle in the distance.
In the evening, the double-decker pontoon boat full of happy tourists rides around the lake. We always went on the boat at least once in our childhood visits. My grandmother never went along; instead she stayed at the house and waved a bright tablecloth so we could see the house on the side of the mountain.
Mornings found my grandfather working in his rose bushes right outside our basement bedroom windows. He loved those roses! He usually had tomatoes growing too...red and yellow. He liked the yellow ones best.
On rainy days...that's what got me started on this today...we stayed in the house and played Gin Rummy and Shanghai. I think he let me win too much!
Rainy days are always Junaluska Days for me. This morning we had gentle, steady rain for a few hours. No wind, just rain. I sat on the porch remembering all the Junaluska mornings and pretending I was actually there.
I pretended there was morning fog just beyond my trees. I was sure I could see the mountains peeking over the top of my little hill. I pretended I heard the screen door slam announcing my parents were coming up for breakfast. I pretended I heard my grandmother banging around in the kitchen. She really was noisy in there.
Funny thing, while I pretended, I also enjoyed my trees, my porch, and the rain right here in Indiana. I am blessed to have these, blessed to have the rain, and blessed to know the one who made the mountains and the rain, wherever I am.
7.03.2008
My Hero!
I have an interesting relationship with my hero. Some things that make him my hero also drive me crazy.
What brought this up? My husband is running for State Representative...again.
We've done this before, you see. Because our district is heavily the OTHER party, he has never been elected...yet. This could be the year, though!
He's my hero because he is willing to continue doing a worthwhile thing long after anyone else would have thrown in the towel because he knows there is progress to be made and influence to be used whether he wins or not.
It's a funny thing about being a candidate: you just put your name on the little paper at the courthouse and suddenly everyone wants you to say a few words at their fish fry, bean supper, chili supper, ice cream social....you name it. And my husband has things to say about our country's direction that everyone needs to hear and heed.
So, his willingness to do this again makes him my hero. He is an awesome guy!
But all those meetings do drive me crazy along the way!
What brought this up? My husband is running for State Representative...again.
We've done this before, you see. Because our district is heavily the OTHER party, he has never been elected...yet. This could be the year, though!
He's my hero because he is willing to continue doing a worthwhile thing long after anyone else would have thrown in the towel because he knows there is progress to be made and influence to be used whether he wins or not.
It's a funny thing about being a candidate: you just put your name on the little paper at the courthouse and suddenly everyone wants you to say a few words at their fish fry, bean supper, chili supper, ice cream social....you name it. And my husband has things to say about our country's direction that everyone needs to hear and heed.
So, his willingness to do this again makes him my hero. He is an awesome guy!
But all those meetings do drive me crazy along the way!
7.02.2008
Still Young!
Well, I have ignored this blog for about exactly one year. But in that one year I have held closely to my determination to not get old. I'm still not able to figure out how a grandmother is supposed to act and still waiting for helpful instructions from my friends.
Actually, several of my grandchildren (12 of them...HOW did this happen??) tell me regularly that I'm crazy or call me "Silly Grandmother!" I'm not sure if this is because I talk to them about driving my car into their house and getting their ideas about whether it would work or not.
Maybe it's when they called me a nut and I asked what kind. "Am I a sneeze nut?"
So now you have a glimpse of how far I have to go before I can be old.
Any ideas on what to do?
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