My Breath Of Life

Intercession

2011-10-21T11:45:00.002-04:00

Relationships, dreams,
Promises, bodies,
We offer them up,
Each broken fragment
In broken words.

Longing for healing,
Wholeness, provision,
With hopeful spirits
We open our hands,
Searching for You.

Answers rain down. Yes!
By faith we see them,
Even when carried
To distant places
Beyond our grasp.

The Comforter comes.

Prayer

2011-10-21T11:13:00.001-04:00

I strike the match,
Engage my heart,
Ignite the blade,
The veil, it parts.

Sweetgrass aglow,
I search for word.
Like rising smoke,
My prayers are heard.

Aroma drifts,
His bowls we fill,
With burning hearts...
He has His will.

To knees we fall,
The Lamb...was slain!
Our cups are full.
There is no stain.

Deliverance in Wandering

2011-10-21T10:51:00.003-04:00

Wandering, weary and heavy hearted,
Our worldly sorrows in time are parted
By the One who waves obey...
A path is laid where is no way.

Confident, we must proceed,
For through the peril we are freed.
Frail and weak, we do our best.
While grace and love surround the test,
We ache for rest.

Shadows

2011-10-09T15:27:00.003-04:00

Shadows of disappointment,
Doubt and despair, lap at my feet.

They cling to my shoes like dirt,
And follow me waiting to wound.

I press on, walking by faith,
Looking up... until the stumble.

It always comes, the falling,
Choking on words I dare not speak.

But Someone scatters cedar.
He knows what trips me every time.

Merciful boughs of comfort!
Fragrant perfume for the impact.

Love makes the landing gentle.
Grace spreads a cushion for my fall.

February Cabin Fever

2011-02-20T14:36:00.003-05:00

Here's a pic of a recent painting project.

I've had this slab of wood for a few years and it's been begging to be painted ever since. I found it at a yard sale. It came all nicely framed and it's very heavy.

One of my favorite places to go to get inspired on a cold winter's day:
http://aestheticoutburst.blogspot.com/

Glass House

2011-02-04T17:21:00.005-05:00

It's the perfect place for plants. Humid. Warm. Near a sunny window (on those days when it's not cloudy and snowing). I like this antique bottle that was given to me by my parents. I drop any old plant down into the bottle and it easily takes root and thrives. Instant greenhouse.

But no matter how nice it is in the bottle, these plants never forget their Creator. They never get too comfortable being confined. They grow. They continually reach for the sky. They reach up, climb out, leave the safety of their home whenever they can, seeking something more.

And then there is us.

True, sometimes life can stink. But there are also those priceless days that life can seem almost perfect. Like a bottle full of healthy plants, it can seem that we are living in a giant perfect terrarium.

Father, may I never be content to live in the greenhouse. Keep me reaching up. For You. For more. Keep reminding me that this "perfect" earthly place you've provided for me is made of glass. It's easily shattered. Natural disasters, financial disasters, illness, death... everything can come crashing down in an instant. May I always look up to You, reach out for You, and never place my trust in those things that are temporary.

This can be a warm and sunny place to grow, but don't ever let me forget to look up! Help me to reach out of my warm comfort zone and seek the something more you have for me. This earthly greenhouse is not my real home.

Peace

2011-02-04T08:23:00.004-05:00

This is what I wake up to every morning and go to sleep with every night, words from Psalm 29:11. I don't always feel peaceful, but that doesn't make this statement any less true. The peace of God is available to me whenever I want it, sometimes I'm just too busy with my own thoughts to seek Him.

These decals are kind of hard to put up. I just HAD to have the fancy lettering, so it came in several pieces. As you can see, things ended up a bit crooked when I stuck them to the wall.

Normally crooked things drive me nuts. This crooked is hardly noticeable when looking at it straight on, so I've found that can live with it. In fact, I kind of like knowing it's just a little bit "off". Hmmmm... like me.

Crooked, but still true. A bit "off", but still blessed.

Thanks be to God.

Back from the dead?

2011-02-03T22:10:00.003-05:00

Wow, I haven't posted anything here in a long long time. I may have to do something about this.... I'm feeling hungry for something basic.

Clothesline

2008-08-11T14:15:00.003-04:00

I realize this is going to be a very long run on sentence, but can someone tell me something? How is it that we can take the exhaust fumes wafting in from the traffic down on the corner, the faint aroma of seaweed encrusted fish drifting up and into our yard from the river a block away, and an occasional puff of the thick heavy air hovering over our neighbor's dog's potty area.... mix it all in with a bit of sunshine (although clouds seem to work just as well)... and the clothes hanging out on my clothesline come out smelling better than a rose?

What is this magic? And how can we get it to work on young men's athletic shoes?

Community and Fish

2008-06-29T22:17:00.005-04:00

We had a fish fry at church this evening. Dan and his "building and grounds crew" fried up mounds of whitefish and fries for a full house... over 100 people, many more than we had anticipated. It was also awesome to see so many visitors joining us for the first of our 2008 summer fun nights. After dinner Danielle helped me with a fish pond for the kids. She pinned prizes onto the end of a string fishing line while I tried to keep the kids from clunking each other in the head with our branch fishing pole. Lots of fun. God is good. This community called "church" is a blessing that we often take for granted. We all long for community... a place to fit in... people to know us, people to know... true friends who care. This evening I stepped back for a minute and observed the weary servers, the happy children, the linging talkers around the tables and I thanked God for this family he's given me. God blessed our gathering and multiplied the fish so that all were fed. Some of us wondered at how we managed to have so much left over... miracle? I know the miracle of community was happening... perhaps the fish increased as well. To God be the glory.

Two Monks and a River

2008-06-16T07:49:00.003-04:00

We received a story in email a while ago that impacted both Dan and I. Since we didn't keep the original, I'll have to attempt a "retell" here:

Two monks were on a pilgrimage. They were devout and holy men. One morning while walking they came upon a river that needed to be crossed. There was no bridge, so the only way to get to the other side was to get wet. Standing along the bank of the river was a distraught woman. When the monks asked if they could help, she indicated that she too must cross the river. She simply must get to a designated place at a designated time, but since she couldn't swim she was too frightened to make the crossing. The monks looked at each other for a few moments, and then to the surprise and shock of the first monk, the second monk picked up the woman and carried her across, swimming through the deepest part. Upon reaching the far shore, the monk kneeled briefly in prayer and then looked back for his companion. Still somewhat in shock, the first monk followed, and after all had made the crossing safely, they bid each other farewell and went on their separate ways. The two monks continued walking for several hours in silence. Finally the first monk could not contain his concern, "Friend, why did you pick up that woman back at the river? How could you? You know that we have taken many vows. We have taken vows to never touch a woman. How could you? What must the Lord think?"
The second monk looked with compassion on his friend and said simply this, "Friend, I put the woman down hours ago. Why do you still carry her?"

There are many spiritual bunny trails one could go down from this story, but the lesson the author chose to highlight is a good one. The story is not about choosing to sin in order to help someone in need. The story is about moving on. We all sin, fail, and also get hurt by others.... whatever..... it's time to lay it down by the river and walk on in peace. Why do we still carry these burdens? Our Lord is full of mercy and grace when we fail. He is full of comfort, help, and compassion when we are wounded. Yesterday is over. We have all met a woman by the riverbank. When I think of her and find myself carrying her once again, I try to consciously lay her down. Why do I still carry her? Why do you?

"The Lord is gracious and righteous; our God is full of compassion." Psalm 116:5

On Friends and Bras

2008-06-05T08:02:00.003-04:00

Copied from my email:

A Friend Is Like A Good Bra...
Hard to Find
Supportive
Comfortable
Always Lifts You Up
Never Lets You Down or Leaves You Hanging
And Is Always Close To Your Heart!!!

On Global Warming

2008-06-04T07:08:00.002-04:00

Funny.

Snow Angel

2008-02-20T22:07:00.003-05:00

Tires crunch through the overnight crust in the driveway. Clouds of who knows what billow from tailpipes as I take my place in the line of cars going who knows where. I shiver and hope the car heater finishes its delay cycle soon. A sip of coffee helps to chase the chill. Despite the cold, I notice I'm still struggling to feel awake, so I take a larger gulp. Beyond the windshield, gray clouds threaten once again. Drat! On second look though, I am pleased to see that the hazy winter sun will at least be putting up a fight today. Dirty piles of snow line the streeets and highway as I make my way to the tasks of the day. Driving with hands in my lap and one cold thumb on the wheel, I lose myself in thought.

Every once in awhile, when I look further than the gutters and ditches heaped with their dirty piles of snow, I catch a glimpse of a pristine field. The snow there is smooth, sparkling and white, just begging for a snow angel. Oh! That there is such a place in me! Create in me a clean heart... oh oh oh God...!

Beyond the crusty yesterdays; beyond the clouds of self-protection and indecision; beneath the shivers and sorrows and the drug induced wakefulness of my tired and weary self... I do so long for the Son. Chase this winter gloominess away and come to me. Imprint yourself in the midst of me. Find that pristine place created within me by your shed blood, flop yourself down and have at it. Dig yourself in. Paint a holy sparkly picture of your image. Make it deep and lasting. Leave an impression that can be seen on me even when the snow is gone and Spring comes. Melt away all this coldness with your loving presence.

I'm not too proud to beg.

Greased Lightning

2008-02-14T07:51:00.002-05:00

Thanks to Jessica for this fun link. I actually did better than I'd expected. I guess since I'm "working" this month, my typing skills have been somewhat awakened from their nap.

67 words

No News is Good News

2008-02-04T16:40:00.000-05:00

Bodaville is buried is snow, but all is well.

Dan and I returned last week from a quick trip south. We even dragged the weather down to Tennessee so that Brooklynn and Tommy could enjoy their first snow! We helped them build a tiny snowman on the deck at Danielle and Mike's house. Check out Danielle and Brooke's blog for more pics. These grandkids (like all others!) are just growing too fast!

Our four days in FL was pleasant... not really beach weather, but we went to the beach anyway one afternoon. We joined the other northern folks in white skin and bathing suits while the southerners shivered in sweatshirts. Florida people are sissys!

Now that we're home, I'm working at our church doing the secretary work for a month so that my friend can venture south to warmer climates. Today was my first day. It's fun to be back challenging my brain with new stuff. I like playing on the computer and getting paid for it!

Happy February!

Lost in Translation

2007-12-24T14:05:00.001-05:00

The day before yesterday we hosted a walk through children's nativity at our church. Eight different scenes depicting important parts of the birth of Christ were set up. Our teens and children (and a few adults) acted out these different parts of the Christmas story while visitors were led through each scene in turn by our "Anna's".

The only outdoor scene (because we live in the snow covered north country!! brrr!) depicted Mary and Joseph being turned away by the Innkeeper when finally arriving in Bethlehem. We were fortunate to have live animals this year for our outdoor scene. A donkey, a goat and a sheep.

Dan was one of the shepherds (but that's a whole different story! ha!) Anyway... the donkey was adorable. The goat was full of energy and friendly. The sheep, well, the sheep was just odd.

Since I was a part of the production, I didn't get to go outside until it was all over. I went out to see how Dan had made out and while we stood in the cold talking about our successful (over 200 people visited) production, I observed the animals. A pen of cedar poles had been built by several men to contain the sheep and goat throughout the evening while the donkey was led back and forth by Joseph and Mary.

The goat, even after two hours, was still begging for attention at the fence. The donkey was being hugged and stroked by even more young hands. The sheep stood in the middle of the pen. While Dan and I talked, I continued to observe the scene before me, finally saying to Dan, "What is wrong with that sheep? It hasn't moved all the while I've been out here."

Dan informed me that the sheep had barely moved all night. It stood in the same spot, not moving, not turning it's head, not blinking. It stood. It stared. What was with that sheep? Was it timid? Downright frightened? Dumb? Cold? Having a bad day? Missing it's sheep mates?

It was the oddest and funniest thing. Many people had commented about it throughout the night, even to the point of asking if that sheep was real. I am still chuckling to myself thinking about it... it was kind of like trying to get the Buckingham Palace Guard to crack a smile.... we could have stood on our heads, told hilarious jokes, burned the church down, but still, I think there would have been nothing. Hello? Anybody home in there?

What a weird sheep. Are they all like this?

So what's my point? I'm not sure, other than being sure that there is something lost in translation for us 21st century American Christians. The Bible refers to us as sheep numerous times and in many contexts. Most of us these days do not know sheep. Our contact is limited to the occasional live nativity scene or petting zoo.

The sheep "statue" that I met Saturday night will cause me to ponder things anew each time I crack open my Bible in the years to come. How am I like that sheep? Do I freeze up in unfamiliar territory? Do I let my fears immobilize me when I am alone and without the support of my flock? Am I just plain dense when it comes to living life? Do I complain about the "cold" even when I'm wearing a warm coat and standing by the fire (living in America, do I really have any idea what suffering is like)? Do I turn a good day bad by my attitudes (in the sheep's case: becoming a laughing stock instead of relishing in the privilege it was to be a participant in reenacting the Lord's birth)? Sheep.... funny, foreign, odd creatures. Me?

As we celebrate the birth of our Savior, who came, lived, and then died - led like a sheep to the slaughter to redeem us to himself, may we also remember that he rose again and lives and loves us even today on December 24th, 2007. Happy birthday Jesus. Thank you for revealing yourself to me. Thank you for loving this dumb obstinate sheep and sacrificing yourself for me as the precious Lamb of God.

Thank you for the privilege it is to serve you.

Notes from a Fruitcake

2007-12-11T08:48:00.000-05:00

This was too funny, so had to post it here. I'm allowed to think it's funny because I've been on the couch myself a time or two. And truth be told, I actually LIKE fruitcake (but just a slice or two, more than that can be a challenge).

Things are well, and busy, in Bodaville. We're looking forward to celebrating the birth of our Savior. Dan's cantata was this past Sunday and the walk-through live nativity that I help with is in less than two weeks. This year we have live animals and we're inviting the whole town, so it should be interesting. Dan is going to be a sheep herder.... hmmmmmm.

Happy Christmas to all the other fruitcakes out there!

Mary Bottaro

2007-10-31T10:58:00.000-04:00

I know, I know… I haven’t posted anything in months. Life gets busy.

I had a surprise visitor a week ago. SO fun! My high school field hockey coach Mary Bottaro and her good friend stopped by to see us for a few hours. Actually they went out of their way to visit. I can’t thank them enough. When Mary called on a Friday night to ask if I’d be home the next day I was in shock. Dan can attest that I was bouncing off the walls all evening and the next morning in anticipation of her arrival.

Mary and I have kept in touch through Christmas cards for all these years, but I’ve only seen her in person once in the last thirty years... and that was over 20 years ago.

The four of us went out for lunch and then came back to the house to reminisce for a while. So fun.

My coach. My mentor. My friend.

I truly believe that in many ways Mary was my John the Baptist. I knew she was a woman of faith even back in high school, but at that point in my life I wasn’t ready to believe… and being a public school teacher, she probably wasn’t able to share much anyway regarding her faith in God. I wasn’t ready to believe because I was struggling in a lot of areas, but God was still preparing the way for my future despite my thinking that He was dead.

What I needed and what I found, was a safe place. The high school gym felt like a cocoon of protection to my fearful heart. What I needed was strength, and my coach taught me how to have it. “Yes, you’re tired, cold, wet… doesn’t matter…. don’t you give up… you can do it.” What I needed, and found, was a cheerleader. Up and down the sidelines, win or lose, Mary was there quietly cheering us on… strong, controlled. We all knew she loved us. We wanted her to be proud. Mostly we won, not because we were spectacular athletes, but because she was a great coach. In fact, my senior year, we weren’t even scored on, and I’m pretty proud of that, being a defensive player.

Mary believed in us. In me. And when the real thing came along, Jesus, I was ready to believe because my John the Baptist had prepared the way.

I listen to another coach now. He is my safe place. He gives me strength. He cheers me on. But I wonder if I ever would have been ready to believe without my “John” preparing the way.

Mary Bottaro. My coach. My friend. Thank you for impacting me for good, building my character, preparing me to face my giants and fall to my knees in gratitude. I may “forget what is behind” but I’ll never forget you… and hopefully we won’t let 20 plus years go by before we see each other again!

“Brothers, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.” Phil 3:13-14

Words to the Wise

2007-07-28T07:33:00.000-04:00

Because I'm sort of very busy these days and don't have time to think of words of my own, I thought I'd post some thought provoking quotes for your reading pleasure.

More on loneliness:

"As Christians, we are called to convert our loneliness into solitude. We are called to experience our aloneness not as a wound but as a gift--as God's gift--so that in our aloneness we might discover how deeply we are loved by God." ~ Henri Nouwen ~

Loneliness.... aloneness.... solitude.....gift. Interesting.

Great expectations:

"Lower your expectations of earth. This isn't heaven, so don't expect it to be." ~ Max Lucado ~

This is great advice. Wish I'd thought about it years ago. Maybe I would have been less disappointed along the way.

Self worth:

"Until you settle the issue of your own worth, it's impossible to bring holiness into anyone else's life. Until you understand that your worth is already determined by the fact of your birth, everything else is an exercise in propping up a dying tree." ~ Carol Brazo ~ "No Ordinary Home"

No dying tree here. Hopefully I occasionally give someone a glimpse of the holiness of God. Thank you dear Lord Jesus for the breath of LIFE, and for holding us to your heart. All glory to you!

One Is The Loneliest Number

2007-07-18T13:51:00.000-04:00

I'm home alone. Just me. One. I hate goodbyes. I’m better at hellos. Dan is on his way downstate with daughter Danielle and grandson Tommy so they can catch their flight home. Son David went along for the ride, so I decided to stay home and wallow in my depression. It was so nice to have Danielle and Thomas here for a one-week visit. We miss everyone so. And kids grow up so fast... our kids have kids. That must mean we are very very old. Hmmmmm. Here’s a picture of Tommy who discovered that the horseshoe pit made a very nice sand box.

The house is too quiet. It will be this way for several days until Dan and I get back into our routines. I always go through this sadness, lonliness, when saying goodbye to one person or another. But I know it will get better. Eventually.

I recently read a poll... 42% of Christian women polled in this study said they are lonely “often” or “constantly”. Wow. That’s kind of a troubling statistic. I wonder what the national percentage would be among all Americans? Probably even higher. We are all so isolated these days, even within the church. Loneliness is epidemic.

Instead of spending all afternoon crying in my milk, I walked the few blocks downtown to the bank. It’s cloudy today, but pleasant temperature wise. In case you didn’t know, the northern most portions of the peninsulas of Michigan are paradise in July and August. Anyway, on my way to the bank I ran into a former neighbor and spoke to him for a few minutes down on the corner. One of the bank tellers goes to our church and she greeted me with a warm hello. I smiled and greeted four other people on my walk. People I didn’t know. Three of the four smiled back and also greeted me in return. Maybe the fourth was having a bad day.

We all long for connection with other human beings. We need that connection. Even God knew it wasn’t good for Adam to be alone. The Lord is always with us, but it’s good to remember that in our loneliness others are also feeling isolated. I am blessed to live in a small town. Most people are friendly and helpful. It was nice to go for a walk today and be reminded that there’s a world of people out there happy to exchange pleasantries with me in the midst of all our loneliness.

Speaking of lonely... or not so lonely... and because one is the loneliest number and two can be as bad as one, we now we have four. (Am I dating myself with this song??) Call me crazy cat woman if you want; Dan was also willing to adopt two of son David’s cat’s kittens, so it’s not all me. Joining Olivia (who is still in a semi snit about the kittens) and Jonah, are Harley and Gracie. Harley is a short haired domestic tiger stripe like Olivia, and Gracie is a Himalayan (or at least marked like one). They are as cute as can be. We are still working out some litter box issues with Harley, but things are looking up.

Did I ever mention that we always get carried away with the cat names around here? No one can have just one.
Olivia is really Olivia Victoria Peanut Punkin Boo Sarah Angelica Two Socks.
Jonah is really Jonah Josiah Jackson Four Hearts.
Harley is Harley David’son Chicken Hawk.
Gracie is Gracie Joy Little Bear.

Yeah... I guess I AM a crazy cat lady!

Alone is the absence of people, while lonely is the absence of connection. We need each other. Thanks for stopping by, but GET OFF THE COMPUTER and make a connection with a real human being today.... and tell them I sent you!

My Husband My Hero

2007-06-22T07:58:00.000-04:00

I watched him walk up the street this morning, my almost ready for Medicare husband. A royal blue do-rag was tied around his not so freshly shorn head. An earring hung from his ear and glittered in the early morning sun. His well-worn black Bible was tucked securely under one arm. I watched him as he stood down on the corner waiting for his friend to pick him up for the Friday morning men’s Bible study at church. Cars whizzed by him, no doubt on their way to work at this hour. What did they think when they saw this sixty-four year old man standing on the corner, no hair, do rag, Bible in hand?

I know what I thought. My husband. My hero.

“Did you ever know that you’re my hero? And everything I’d like to be?” I sing it to him every once in awhile. I’ve sung it for years and it only grows more true as time goes by.

This week was a perfect example of how Dan lives Jesus before me every day.

Some friends offered to let us park our motor home on their property for a while. We’re trying to sell it and they live on a busy street where the motor home will have more exposure. In order to move it from our backyard to their house, we needed to have a mechanic come over and hook up the batteries. Our 34-foot monster has three batteries under the hood and more wires than you can count. On Monday evening the mechanic stopped by on his way home. He hooked this to that, touched that to this, the engine roared, and all seemed well. On Tuesday, when we went to move it, it was dead. Nothing. What? After several hours of bent over tinkering, Dan finally put the main battery on a charger. Oh! This is problem. Dead battery. We’d probably gotten one start out of it before it died. So…. It was down to Wal-Mart to buy a new battery. I muttered. By this time it’s Tuesday evening. Dan puts the new battery in. Dead. Nothing. How can this be? He tinkers some more. Fiddles with connections. I mumble. I fume. I pray. Next day, Wednesday, Dan tinkers some more. Bent over, wrench in hand he is determined that the motor home won’t win. By this time I want to explode in frustration. Finally, to make a long story shorter, Dan realizes that one single wire is hooked up wrong. He’d done it himself on Tuesday morning when we were preparing to leave. A simple fix and the engine roared to life again. Praise! Jubilation!

Two days of frustration and I never heard a bad word come from that man’s mouth. Even when he realized it was a simple fix that he’d missed over and over again, he only chuckled. Ack!!!! Oh! To be more like him (which is really Jesus in him)!

Did you ever know that you’re my hero?

When I think about the fruit of the Spirit and I look at Dan, I often stand amazed. Only one of these fruits might be slightly lacking in him, and he is even doing better in that area as the years go by. What a testimony he is to me! Loving, joyful, peaceful, patient, kind, good, faithful, gentle, self-controlled…. that is my husband. That is my friend. He is Jesus with skin on. Truly.

What did they think when they saw this man standing on the corner, head shaved, Bible in hand?

I know what I thought. My husband. My hero.

“Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.” Galatians 1:3

Seven Things

2007-06-02T08:10:00.000-04:00

My friend Shannon over at Wind Scraps tagged me for the "7 Random Facts About Me" meme. Hmmmm... I'm not sure I can come up with seven interesting things about me, but I'll give it a try and see how far I get. I should mention here that one of Shannon's facts had something to do with one hundred pounds of chocolate covered gummie bears... ugh.... you'll have to visit her to see what that disgusting mess is about! :-)

Here goes:

1. When I was a young teenager I paddled through Algonquin Provincial Park in Ontario Canada with a bunch of other girls (and two college age "leaders"). It might be the most physically challenging thing I ever did. The paddling was great, no flabby arms for me back then! The portages, on the other hand, were murder. I remember tripping through the woods with a big bundle strapped to my back and a canoe over my head thinking: Who packed all this stuff? I am going to die for sure out here and no one will ever find my body! We burned, we sweat, we cried. We got soaking wet, slept under our canoes and fought off the gazillion mosquitoes which were as big as hummingbirds. We ate freeze dried cheese, hung it in trees overnight, and ended up square dancing with a black bear anyway (not a smart idea). It is one of my favorite memories of childhood.

2. I'm ALL American. Both sides of my family tree have been here since before the revolutionary war, my father's father's family and my mother's father's family. One young relative back there was even a drummer boy in the War of 1812.

3. I'm married to the 1991 International Correctional Officer of the Year. Dan was chosen to be the Michigan Correctional Officer of the Year in 1991 and then went on to be chosen as the best of the best at the national level (including Canada and some other countries). We traveled to Washington D.C. where he was honored. Cool!

4. A long long time ago I used to dream about hiking the Appalachian Trail from end to end. Now I'm trying to save on gasoline and I complain about walking a block to the party store! What has happened to me?

5. I am the original Cookie Monster, thanks to my mom who always made the best homemade cookies on earth. Chocolate chip, peanut butter, refrigerator cookies sliced off the roll in thick slices, molasses cookies with a sticky pond of jelly in the middle..... yum. I don't remember any homemade cookies at my best friend Mary Crumb's house, but they had a big cookie jar filled with store bought sandwich cookies and if we ate our entire sandwich at lunch time we could have all the cookies we wanted. I thought I'd died and went to heaven!

6. One of my favorite places this time of year is our deck. Dan and I sit and sip our coffee or diet Coke and talk about all the important and unimportant things in life that mean everything to us. God, family, church, the dandelions going to seed, what we should have for dinner, this new pain in my neck... my foot.... my back. We sit with cats on our laps. We watch the birds frolic and the trees grow. We move our chairs along to stay in the shade of our two faded umbrellas and we are filled with a peace and contentment that defies description.

7. I love to see grown men hug. I love to hear a young child laughing. I love the smell of violets and the tastes of dark chocolate and buttery toffee mixing together and melting in my mouth. I love to feel the crispness of fresh line-dried sun-washed sheets when I crawl into bed on a summer night (thank you Grandma Wright and Great Aunt Bea for safe crispy beds offered to this little girl forty years ago).

Thank you Shannon for encouraging me to stop and remember..... and thank you Heavenly Father for blessings too many to count.

Limo

2007-05-06T13:49:00.000-04:00

I attended and helped lead a retreat for women two weeks ago. It was called “Chocolate Boutique” and followed a theme of “Taste and See that the Lord is Good”. We ate a lot of chocolate... but that's not what this is suposed to be about... so I'll try to stay on subject and not drool on the computer while revisiting that little memory. Hmmmmmm...... ANYWAY.... During the prayer portion of the retreat, women were given a small box of items to help them focus in on God. We were provided with Scripture and a guided devotional and asked to spread out across the auditorium and spend some time alone with God.

One of the items in the box was a whistle. The Scripture passage for this item, taken from Psalm 98, read “Sing to the Lord a new song… shout for joy to the Lord, all the earth, burst into jubilant song with music; make music to the Lord with the harp, with the harp and the sound of singing, with trumpets and the blast of the ram’s horn – shout for joy before the Lord, the King.” The devotion read in part: At what times do you most feel like bursting forth in song or a noise of praise? Then: Blow the whistle. Loudly! Let it be your trumpet or ram’s horn, and make a joyful noise!

The auditorium was peaceful. Women were in prayer all over the room. Music played softly in the background. I didn’t hear any whistles. Blow my whistle loudly? Are you kidding? Oh well here goes….. My first puff was tentative, but my second was a bit louder. The shrill noise turned heads in my direction, eyes lifted and mouths upturned. The room went back to quiet as heads bowed, but apparently my hesitant step had broken the ice. As our time of prayer continued, more and more women ventured out of their comfort zones and whistles loud and soft could be heard from all corners of the room. The devotion continued: “How did you feel while blowing the whistle? Goofy? Self-conscious? Disruptive? Free? How is this like what happens when you feel joy in your own life? What might hold you back from expressing joy? How can you find the balance between shouting with joy and listening in stillness?

And this brings me to my limo story. Retreat thoughts still swirled about in my head this past week when Dan shared that my birthday gift was to be delivered on Friday. My birthday is in July, and it’s a big one this year, so to celebrate half a century of life I had asked for one of the items on my “list”, (my “list of things to do before I die” list). When attempting to reserve my gift, Dan was informed that it wasn’t available on my birthday day, so instead of a birthday ride, he made arrangements for us to go on an anniversary ride, the day before our 23rd anniversary.

A ride in a limo. Kind of crazy and silly. Very indulgent. I’ve just always wanted to ride in one (why I don’t really know), and Dan made my dream come true. We spent two hours cruising northern Michigan. Half way through we picked up one of my sisters-in-law. We ate pizza. Toasted our blessings with a glass of wine. Watched the video fire burn in the two TV screens. Took pictures. Talked. Laughed. Listened to music…. even disembarked at one point to view the awe inspiring Straits of Mackinac while our dutiful driver stood outside waiting for us to return so that he could open the door for us.

It was great fun. I “blew my whistle” for two hours. I sucked every bit of joy out of this loving gift and once in a lifetime experience. For once I let my hair down. Truth be known, I am pretty good at listening in stillness but not so good at blasting my ram’s horn. I like to stay in control where it’s safe and still. This gift couldn’t have come at a better time. Perhaps by July I would have slipped back into stillness mode. But this week I was still committed to blowing my whistle. When I feel joy, I don’t want to be afraid to express it. Self-consciousness shouldn’t inhibit me from praising God when He does something wonderful for me. God granted me a desire of my heart. It might have been a silly and indulgent desire, but our loving Heavenly Father wanted to give it to me nevertheless and through my husband, He did. Wheeeeeeeee!!!!!!!

Next time I write, I will continue with Limo Part Two: how God spoke to me in the midst of my fun about wealth and self worth. Meanwhile I give Him praise for his rich provision and the ability to enjoy such a gift with abandon (my husband and sister-in-law probably thought I’d finally lost it for sure…..ha).

“Command those who are rich in this present world not to be arrogant nor to put their hope in wealth, which is so uncertain, but to put their hope in God, who richly provides us with everything for our enjoyment.” 1 Timothy 6:17

Thanks be to God (and Dan) for my ride of a lifetime!

Life At A Snail's Pace

2007-05-01T08:30:00.000-04:00

"By perseverance the snail reached the ark."
~ Charles Spurgeon ~

There are times when the task before us seems greater than we can possibly accomplish. It may be a physical challenge like a deadline at work, or a personal goal of something like losing weight or bringing order to our household. There are also those times that the tasks looming over us can be mental or emotional. Perhaps we need to forgive someone or trust the Lord in a situation where we have trouble giving up the reins. How do we tackle these "biggies" in life? Perseverance. We don't give up. When we fall, we get back up. When we fail, we try again. We gain our ground one centimeter at at time. Living life at a snail's pace does not have to be a bad thing. As long as our baby steps and small successes keep us moving in the right direction, there is no shame in taking it slow. If a snail can reach the ark with God's help, then we can also accomplish great things. Jesus stands ready and willing to help us in our times of need. He doesn't even mind the slime! And by the way, if you can get beyond the slime, a snail is really quite an awesome creature don't you think? We slime on!

Visit Sting My Heart to read some other's thoughts on this quote.

After thoughts: Sometimes it's best to not look too far ahead. The distance to our goal may seem overwhelming and discouragement can easily set in. The snail probably glanced up once in awhile to look at the ark, his prize, but in order to make progress he had to concentrate on his task in smaller measure... getting over this blade of grass for one. We also should concentrate on what we can do today, or this hour, or this minute in order to reach our goals. Looking too far ahead can lead to discouragement. Lord, help us concentrate on what we can do today, and before we know it we'll reach our goals.

Random Thoughts

2007-04-26T09:35:00.000-04:00

In the news recently there was mention of a newly discovered planet named Gliese 581. Apparently conditions may be right for there to be life on this planet: temperatures between 32 and 104 Fahrenheit where water could remain liquid. The talk of life on a distant planet didn't strike me as much as the fact that this planet is 20.5 light years away from us. We are looking at an image that left that planet over twenty years ago and is traveling at the speed of light to reach us. One light year is 5.9 TRILLION miles! Do the math. That blob in the sky is FAR! Over a hundred TRILLION miles distant from us. TRILLION! What does a trillion even look like? I can't think about it for long. My brain cells atrophy and my knees go weak. We are floating in a VAST universe... and where is the end? Is there an end? And it's all held together by some "force".... hmmmmm..... wonder who that could be? Come on people.... an accident? no intelligent designer? Please!

Speaking of vast distances, my friend Shannon recently wrote these words in her blog: "And I remembered when my heart was Jesus-new but hurting, because I couldn't reconcile the great chasm between my Savior and His Bride." I love that. I think many who come to the Lord fall away quickly because they don't give their faith a chance to begin to bridge that gulf. I've been a believer for 28 years and I'm still hurting, but through faith I've been able to reconcile some of that chasm. I don't always understand, but I believe.... and that narrows the vast distance between what I see and what I know to be true.

And speaking of believing, I love Thomas. The disciple. I can relate to him. Yes, sometimes I am faithful like John, and sometimes I am impetuous like Peter, but I am also at times a doubter like Thomas. Most Christians won't admit this. These thoughts don't usually last long, but they do come. What if my faith is all a bunch of hooey? What if there was just a big bang? What if I'm just weak and pathetic? Though the doors were locked, Jesus came and stood among them and said, "Peace be with you!" Then he said to Thomas, "Put your finger here; see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it into my side. Stop doubting and believe." Thomas said to him, "My Lord and my God!" Then Jesus told him, "Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed."

Along with my faithfulness and impetuousness and doubtfulness, I can also be negative and critical at times. I am also careful (sort of) with my money. Thus... in order to try to train myself to be more godly, I now have a money jar to curb my critical mouth. Every time I hear myself (or Dan hears me) saying something critical I have to put a dollar in the jar. A dollar is big enough to hurt my wallet. We will see where this goes..... since yesterday the jar contains exactly one dollar (in change, because I didn't have a dollar bill and Dan wouldn't loan me one and I refused to put a five in there because Dan joked that it would be in there eventually anyway and I absolutely need to prove him wrong!)

Speaking of being careful with money, Dan and I are discussing an idea I had to go for one whole month and buy absolutely nothing except what we NEED. It's still in discussion phase, but it certainly is worth considering in more ways than one.

Standing awestruck in a vast universe. Bridging a wide chasm with faith. Struggling with a doubting heart. Putting my wallet where my mouth is. Considering how spoiled I am and wanting to change so that I can share more....... these are my thoughts for the day. And what do you think?

Heavenly Purple Passions

2007-04-24T19:47:00.001-04:00

Last night I wrote a great post about the thousands of violets in our yard. It was full of descriptive adjectives and wit. The only thing missing was the smell-a-vision monitor so that you could enjoy the aroma for yourselves.

Hmmmm.... now I'm remembering why I slacked off on posting...... had a few technical glitches trying to post the thing.... well actually a major glitch which involved frozen computer parts and disappearing thoughts... but we won't go into that because I don't like to type $#&$%#@ words!!!!!

So much for my purple passion.

I will just leave you with the fact that I LOVE violet season! Yum!

"I praise you... your works are wonderful, I know that full well." Psalm 139:14

Brooklynn Leaves Us A Message

2007-04-24T19:47:00.000-04:00

The best message we've ever gotten on the answering machine.

To hear the message, click on the little arrow on the blue box below. Put this in your "too cute for words" file!

Gabcast! brooklynn leaves a message #1

Learning How To Type Again

2007-04-23T07:39:00.000-04:00

Yes, I am still alive.

I am just too busy to think these days. I guess that's good (although... not thinking could be bad.... depending on the circumstances).

Here are some random thoughts (and vents) that I've had this past week in between my busyness:

Believers who talk in a "Christianese" or "Christianglish" language can be annoying even to other believers. My opinion..... just spit it out.... who are we trying to impress?

I serve an awesome God who can sometimes work in dramatic ways, but most of the time I see him working in the everyday ho hum of everyday life. We can dramatize this everyday when speaking of it to make it seem more exciting, but I don't find that necessary. There is a time for drama and a time for quiet peaceful service, growth.... whatever. I suppose some would think that I am not giving God his proper due, but God knows who he is and I don't think he needs my dramatic twist of the play by play to feel good. I don't need that to feel good either (I think). Am I missing something? Does every believer besides me really live their lives from one dramatic intervention of God to the next? My life and Christian walk is not that dramatic.

God's Word is always for me. It's best to not get all puffed up thinking we don't worship idols. We tell ourselves that we don't worship Bael (like those horrid Israelites....ha)! We don't have sex on an altar, so we walk away feeling good about ourselves. We tell ourselves we don't worship success, money or the other idols of our age. But what about the idol of our "religion"? Are we worshipping the one true God? Or are we serving the programs, the traditions, and the disciplines of our religion? Do we always come to Him, as we should, with empty hands and a grateful heart? Or are we offering up a list of our religious works in hopes of finding His favor?

Hmmmmmmm......

God bless you as you go your way today. Whether your day is dramatic or ho hum, God is with you. He's awesome..... but sometimes he whispers. Be listening.

Where Have I Been?

2007-01-26T08:37:00.000-05:00

This is pretty much where I've been. I've at least set tires in the red states. I'm not sure about Missouri. I know I didn't see the arch, so I'm not counting it. Thanks Jessica for this cool site.

Make Your Own Map

Actually, I haven't been all those places recently, but I have been to:

We had a great time visiting friends in Chicago this month. My photos are still in the camera, but these tell the story (other than the snow and freezing cold!) Walking to the train in the winter is not for old people! Brrr! I don't think it's for babies either, but Nate and Luke were troopers! We did have a great time. As far as cities go, Chicago is nice. Next time we visit our friends, it will be in the summer!

Speaking of summer, there is a place where it's summer-like in the winter. Dan is there right now......

.....while I am home in the........

No fair!

It's been a busy start to 2007!
Thanks for stopping by. God bless you!

Pageant

2006-12-31T13:23:00.000-05:00

Here are a few photos from our recent children's program at church. This was a first for us. We did a walk through nativity. I've only posted three photos, but there were 8 scenes in all, one set up in each classroom (or doubled up in the big rooms) and one scene outside. You will miss photos of: the multitudes of angels and shepherds, several additional Marys and Josephs, some rambunctious Wise Men, Herod, and several Annas and a Simeon... so next year you'll just have to come and see for yourself! ha! Dan and I helped with the backdrops, props, and lighting. Small groups (8-10 people) were led in turn through the nativity story by our Annas or Simeon who acted as narrators. A good time was had by all. We hope to improve on things next year and invite our whole town to visit the nativity along with us.

Gabriel brings news to Mary.

Mary and Joseph find no room at the Inn. (Notice no snow this year!!! This photo is taken outside of our church in a perfect spot for this scene near the kitchen door.)

Too cute for words. (Little Joseph who is falling over in the picture actually did fall over sick half way through the night..... poor little guy!)

Thanks for stopping by.... may God bless you this coming year.

The Big Question

2006-12-31T07:01:00.000-05:00

I wonder
when
that Weather Girl
in my sidebar
is going
to take
her Christmas tree
down?

The Way We Were

2006-12-30T09:11:00.000-05:00

The good old days..... and not so long ago.

Okay, did I dream this?

Askew

2006-12-30T08:07:00.000-05:00

English words can be funny.

They just sound funny... especially if you say them out loud over and over again.

Our 2006 word seemed to be "goiter".

I suppose an actual goiter isn't too funny (eat your iodine people!!!), but the word itself is quite amusing, don't you think? It's quite fun to inject "goiter" into the middle of a conversation when no one expects it.

Goiter, goiter, goiter.

Yesterday I was having some fun with "sphere" and "askew".

Say that three times fast.

Sphere askew, sphere askew, sphere askew.

Yeah, I know, I'm easily amused.

A Homebody and Her Stuff

2006-12-28T19:38:00.000-05:00

Being away from home for six weeks can seem like a long time. I am an admitted homebody. I like my safe secure house. I like my stuff, my bed, my one and half bathrooms, my cats, my routine, and my paint on the walls, furniture and floors. Since retiring from a full time job, I've been able to pour myself into making a home for us. There is finally time to tinker, garden, and create. Sometimes I'd like to have a newer or bigger house, but for right now this is the house I have, and I really do like it here.

I didn't know what to expect from myself as far as leaving home for six weeks, but I figured that I wouldn't like it, because I like my house and my stuff. In some ways I was right. But in another way I was quite wrong.

I haven't saved everything that's ever crossed this threshold. I love to have yard sales and sell stuff that doesn't interest me any more, and so I'm not really a saver (savers save everything), I'm just sentimental. My sentimental side keeps little treasures tucked away. Thank goodness I am somewhat organized. I think I am a homebody because I love to scan all my stuff and remember those dear to me. Almost everyone I've ever loved or who has loved me, is in this house with me. I see the secretary desk and remember my dear grandma. A painting my mom painted the year I was born hangs on our living room wall. I have a big box of correspondence from years past.... letters and cards from friends that I can't bear to part with. I don't read them, but I wonder if one day I might want to, and so I save them. Someday when I am old (and grayer) and alone on a rainy afternoon, perhaps I will want to drag out that box and remember. I have gifts the kids gave me and drawings from the grandkids. I have a lock of my brother's hair. A sea shell from Dan. Stones I picked up along the Lake Superior beach with my friend from South Africa. I have treasures brought back to me from far away places by the hands of friends: a purse from Bolivia, a dress from Hawaii. A have some dried out flowers in a box that Dan and I wore pinned to our hearts on the day we publicly accepted God's forgiveness for our sins and pledged our love to each other. I have my mother's rocking chair, my dad's blanket, my uncle's hat, my grandma's potato masher, an afghan made by a friend, my 1975 Henry Ford High School yearbook. And the list goes on.

I like my stuff. I knew I would miss it when I went away. And I did....... for awhile.

And then an amazing thing happened that I didn't recognize until I came home. I had quit missing my stuff. I discovered that I don't need this stuff to feel safe and secure. This stuff is not me and it's no kind of protection. It's not what I need. God is all I need. He lives in Florida too. Lots of "stuff" can just clutter up a life. It was great to get home, snuggle into my soft bed, and take stock of things after being away for so long, but in many ways it was quite freeing to be away from all the stuff. I never expected that. At first, our house felt oddly strange. It didn't smell like home. In those first few days, being home felt cozy, but confining. I really had come to enjoy the freedom from all the stuff. I'd never expected that. It didn't take long for the weight of the years of accumulation to settle back onto me once we came home. Things needed dusting, mending, and repairing.... attending to. The battles in my spirit between the Mary-me and the Martha-me began once again in earnest.

And now.... I am back into the groove. There are good smells coming from the kitchen again and I appreciate seeing all of my unvaluable treasures every day, but I know now how our "stuff" can be a burden without us even realizing it. I learned a few important lessons by going away and getting out of my homebody comfort zone. One of those lessons was to try to keep my "stuff" in it's proper place, and I don't mean learning any new organizational skills.

It was quite easy this past week to clear the closets when our pastor challenged the congregation with the statement "How many coats does one person really need?" This lead to the altar of our church on Christmas Eve morning being piled high with garbage bags of clothes for the needy in our community. An interesting Christmas decor idea. Every church in America should try it.

I'm a homebody. I like my stuff. But when it all falls away and I fall into the arms of Jesus, I won't be looking back.

Say What? Say It Again

2006-12-23T09:23:00.000-05:00

The greatest announcement of all time:

"Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger."

When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, "Let's go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about."

So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger. When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them.

Angels.... shepherds...... they keep telling the story.

Say it again. Announce it. Paint it. Have a pageant.

It was an announcement that changed the world.

An announcement that changed my life.

Say it again.... until it sinks in.

"A Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord."

Berries (Part 2)

2006-12-21T12:51:00.000-05:00

Okay, night number two was not as good as night number one.... so I am reserving judgement on the berries being a miracle sleep aid.

Berries are good for us however, so I will continue to eat a small serving before bed and see if I notice any differences in the long term. Maybe it works better for some people. Maybe it doesn't help that much for hot flashes, meowing cats and crying babies (Jessica!).............

I hope my teeth don't turn blue!

On Beds and Berries

2006-12-20T11:44:00.000-05:00

"Have I told you about the berries?" my friend asked the other day.

"Berries?" I said. "I don't think so."

She went on to tell me that she'd discovered by accident that whenever she ate berries before bed she had been getting a good night's sleep.

Berries before bed? I was skeptical. What kind of berries? Any kind she replied.

Since I am a very light sleeper I filed this away in my "Looney Ideas to Try Someday File". Some weeks I am desperate for a full night's sleep. I toss and turn and let myself be consumed with envy at my husband's slow and steady REMing. I go to sleep at midnight. Every time I wake, I check the clock. Some nights I watch the hours click by two by two. If I do sleep soundly at first, I often wake early and finally get up in frustration when I can't fall back to sleep.

After the conversation with my friend I tried some grapes that I had on hand. No luck. Grapes are grapes.

Well, yesterday Dan and I were at the grocery store and I happened to walk by the fresh berries. Yes, they were expensive, but I snagged a small plastic carton of blueberries and an even smaller carton of blackberries. I rationalized the cost away. It would be a small price to pay for a good night's sleep.

Last night I crawled into bed with my pyrex dish of berries and slurped them down. Yum. A Seinfeld rerun droned on and on, until I shut off the light at 11:35pm.

Upon waking from a morning dream, I rolled over to look at the clock. 8:30am. 8:30???? I slept like a rock. I didn't feel kitten paws in the night. I didn't hear cat yowls from the other room. I didn't hear, feel, see, or smell anything. Even the taste of berries had vanished.

Hmmm..... was the reason I slept so well the fact that I was totally and utterly exhausted? Was it the freshly washed sheets on the bed? Did the cats have other fish to fry last night and so they left me quietly to sleep in peace?

Or was it the BERRIES????

I'll keep you posted.

Home Sweet Home and Dog Tired

2006-12-19T21:06:00.000-05:00

We had a nice six weeks away, but it's oh so good to be home. We've been on the go for the past week and a half since getting home. Upon arrival, we became very very very busy with church activites, shopping, retraining young cats to obey the rules of our house, and addressing misc other projects and responsibilities. I realized today that I am totally and utterly exhausted, but that's what happens when one leaves town during November or December.

Tomorrow I will slow down and smell the coffee.

The church programs are over. The shopping is done and gifts wrapped. The bills are paid. The cats are sleeping. The cupboards are full of food. The clothes are washed and put away. The Christmas tree is even up.... and all angelic and glittery.

Tomorrow I get a hair cut, but I am not doing one other thing!!!!!!!

Let Me Tell You About My Grandchildren

2006-10-16T19:40:00.000-04:00

File this under
"TOO CUTE FOR WORDS"!

Thomas Daniel
age 6 months

He might live in Tennessee, but since Papa and Nana live in Michigan,
he's a Detroit Tiger fan!

Go Tigers! The World Series is yours for the taking!

In His Arms

2006-10-11T08:02:00.000-04:00

Last winter I made my pilgrimage to the doctor's office for my annual exams. Not my favorite time of year, but it's the responsible thing to do. Now that I'm SOOO old, I also get an annual mammogram. As long as I lay off caffeine for a few days prior, the pancaking of my unmentionables is not too uncomfortable.

The snow fluttered, I did my thing, and a week or so after my tests, the little card that I'd addressed to myself arrived in the mail.

Results.

I opened the card and was a bit startled. There are four little boxes for the radiologist to check: Normal, Benign, Probably Benign, or Malignant. My "Probably Benign" box was checked. What? What does this mean? I don't have abnormal tests.

The Probably Benign and Malignant boxes have notes by them to "Please make an appointment to see your doctor." Hand written along the bottom of the card was "Recommend another mammo in six months".

Well, to make a long story short. I saw my doctor. I'd just been there the week prior for my exam and check up. He hadn't felt anything then. I do self exams. I hadn't felt anything. Well, this time, he felt it. I felt it. Dan felt it. A BB of bird shot that wasn't supposed to be there. It just goes to show you how easily something can be missed. Now that the mammogram was done, we all knew where to "look", and there it was.

Then came six months of waiting. The words "probably benign" fluttered about in my head. "Normal" I had expected. "Benign" I could accept. "Probably benign"... this left just enough doubt for me to begin to worry a bit.

And so the weeks ticked by. I couldn't keep an eye on it, but I kept a feel for it. Yep, still there. No bigger though. That must be good. I finally had to force myself to quit feeling it. I was becoming obsessed with this pebble invader.

I prayed for God's glory. A few close friends who we shared this information with I'm sure also prayed for me. I quit examining myself and fell into the arms of God. I prayed for His will to be done.

A few weeks ago I went for my follow up mammogram. Results? Normal. Nothing there.

When I heard the results I tried to find it myself again. Nothing. It's gone.

I could say whatever it was just "went away". But I think God healed me. God heard my prayers, those of my husband and friends, and he chose to heal me. My "probably benign" isn't malignant..... it isn't even benign.... it just isn't there. I think that qualifies as a healing. I don't know when it happened. I remember having a few days of shooting pains in that breast somewhere along the line and mentioning that to Dan. Maybe it was then. Who knows.

I'm glad I don't have to think about this anymore. I knew that whatever the outcome was, I was ready. My prayer was for God to be glorified.

After the fact, I find it a little difficult to stand up in church when prayer requests are asked for and share this item of praise. Most people did not know about our past six months of waiting. It's too long of a story to tell. I really don't want to speak and have all eyes in the room gravitate to my breasts! ha! I've felt sort of bad for the past couple of weeks that I haven't given God the glory, when I promised him I would (no matter what the outcome had been), but I think he understands my reluctance in mixed company.

So this is my testimony. God healed me. God is good... and God is good even when test results are bad.

Thank you dear Lord Jesus for the breath of life and for holding us to your heart. All glory to you.

"But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed." Isaiah 53:5

Change Me On The Inside

2006-10-09T20:21:00.000-04:00

I can hardly wait to get to church on Sundays. Our pastor's current message series draws from Dallas Willard’s book, Renovation of the Heart.

Good stuff.

Lasting change only happens from the inside out. Of course I’ve always known that, but rarely have I heard messages that give practical guidance as to how to allow God to do such a thing in me.

As a sidenote, along with the messages, we’ve added a new song to our worship: Change me on the inside, change me on the inside, change me on the inside… It has a catchy little tune that I find myself humming throughout the day until I’m bonkers, but the message is better than “how dry I am” or a similiar mind dulling can’t-get-it-out-of-my-head song.

One tidbit in a recent message had a big impact in our house. It’s really so simple. Dan and I can’t get over how we’ve stumbled over this for so long. Patience is not really a huge thing for us personally, but I’ll use the example as it was given. We pray and pray, “God, I need to learn patience. Give me patience.” And then we wait expectantly, believing, but nothing happens, so we pray some more. But Scripture clearly says in 1 Timothy 4:7, “Have nothing to do with godless myths and old wives’ tales; rather, train yourselves to be godly.” Not that prayer isn’t important, but we are supposed to be TRAINING ourselves! That sounds like actively doing something. How did I miss this?

The message is quite clear. You want more patience? Go into training. Choose the longest checkout line in Walmart. Stand and wait behind the lady with a cart full. Do it today... and do it again tomorrow. Do it until you get it. Do it until patience flows out of you naturally like it flowed out of Jesus. We say we want to be like Him, so until it flows out of us naturally we have work to do.

So what is my thing? I'll be honest. I need a lot of work in a lot of areas, but probably at this point in my life my biggest thing is peace. I want to feel peaceful. I want to rest in God. Trust in God. Let go of my fears. I’m a homebody. I like my comfort zone. I like my stuff, my routine. I stay in my comfort zone and I pray and pray, “Lord, I want to feel at peace. I want to feel safe. Maybe I know the whys of why I struggle with this now and I didn't before, but how long does it have to last? Change me. Help me.... yadda yadda." I can pray until I'm blue in the face, and I feel at times like I have, but really, how is this going to happen unless I step out and begin training myself? How can I trust God, rest in Him, live in love instead of fear, unless I get out of my safe zone and prove Him faithful? I use my stuff, my routine, and my comfort zone like walls. I think these walls will protect me, but since they have failed to do so quite often I don’t know why I keep it up. S_ _ _ happens. I get hurt. The walls are breached and then I try to build them higher so that there won't ever be a next time. How stupid. Instead, I need to come out from behind the walls. Like that poem said the other day, I need to "To fondle and caress a joy, yet hold it lightly, Lest it become necessity and cling too tightly". It's okay to enjoy my routine and quiet safe home, but if I hold it too tightly and don't go into training, God will never be able to change me from the inside out. He doesn't force us to do anything. Until I need Him more than my crutches, I will continue to limp.

And so the next few weeks will be good training for me. Training in godliness. We will be gone for 6 weeks. Traveling in traffic. Yikes. Staying with family. Staying in a rented condo. Most of my stuff will be at home. There won't be a routine of any recognizable sort. My beloved kitties will be farmed out, and although I'm sure they'll be well cared for, they won't be with me, and they and me will all hate that! I will be long gone from my comfort zone.

I prayed and prayed for peace and a safe place to lay my head. And God knew just what I needed. Hmmmm… imagine that! An extended trip! Yikes.

I'm going into training. My safe place is supposed to be wherever I am, because God is with me and he is my peace and safety. I have neglected my training in this area for far too long. The walls I've tried to erect for protection do not really work, and I'm well aware. Pray for me.

Retraction

2006-10-07T07:26:00.000-04:00

Okay, I admit it. I was wrong.

It's beginning to look like home around here.

Beta Blogger is easier (ONCE YOU FIGURE OUT HOW TO USE IT).

Thankfully, I had some help from a friend. Otherwise I might have torn my braids out!

Amish Friendship Bread

2006-10-06T07:59:00.000-04:00

This past summer a friend asked me if I'd like a starter for Amish Friendship Bread.

Ahhhh... the Amish. Dan and I love to visit the Amish communities in Indiana. It's peaceful there, like another century altogether. The clip clop of horse hooves creates a pleasant backdrop to our flea market and antique browsing.

I thought it might be fun to have a piece of Amish country in my kitchen, so I welcomed the gift from my friend.

Since July, a bit of starter has always been on my kitchen counter. It bubbles, I feed it, and every ten days I make bread (which is really cake). Once in awhile I stir in something new: chocolate chips, zuchini, or if I'm feeling really healthy that week: ground flax seed. While I mix up the ingredients, I think of my friend who gave it to me and I think of those who've accepted a starter from my hand. I consider who I might give a loaf to this week (so that Dan and I don't balloon out TOO much!)

We're a sisterhood of women, feeding our families. I think about these sisters whose hands are making bread every ten days along with mine... and I pray for them. It's a connection I like having.

And next to the thoughts of my friends, I've also thought about the Amish women. Did my starter originate in one of their hands? Did it come from Indiana or an Amish community here in Michigan? Was my bubbling broth born in Pennsylvania, in someone's simple kitchen on a white washed farm?

And then...... tragedy strikes yet again. We stand gaping at the television in horror.

From now on when I make my bread, along with praying for my friends, I will be praying for the mothers who buried their young daughters this week. I will stand amazed at my kitchen counter when I think of their faith and forgiveness in the face of evil. I will consider again the reporter's words when refering to the upcoming funerals, "The Amish will remember their daughters, but there will be no eulogies. Praise is reserved for God alone."

I will consider, think, and remember.... my cherished friends, those grieving mothers I don't know, and the no-doubt devastated family of this man who made 21st century America stand still in disbelief... and I will pray.

LIVING

2006-10-05T16:40:00.000-04:00

I love this poem!

It's hidden in the pages of a book of poetry I have, The Best Loved Poems of the American People, copyright 1936.

God's Word tells us that there is a time for everything and a season for every activity under heaven. This includes a time to be silent. Hmmm.

We don't often take the time to pause and soak in what is happening in our present. Running about like crazy people we accomplish a lot of things, but do we ever linger long enough to really enjoy a moment as it is happening? Do we even notice any of our moments as they march by, or do we only see our lives in retrospect?

We work and strive and press on and on, but sometimes what is needed is a simple quiet. Just for a moment, don't work, don't plan, don't teach, don't learn. Just be. And just for one moment don't be too hard on yourself.

Remember that sometimes the very best moments in life are the moments of the "getting there", not the arriving. May we all slow down once in awhile to smell the roses... and may we discover the gift that is LIVING!

Read slowly... and savor.

LIVING
Author Unknown

To touch the cup with eager lips and taste, not drain it;
To woo and tempt and court a bliss - and not attain it;
To fondle and caress a joy, yet hold it lightly,
Lest it become necessity and cling too tightly;
To watch the sun set in the west without regretting;
To hail it's advent in the east - the night forgetting;
To smother care in happiness and grief in laughter;
To hold the present close - not questioning hereafter;
To have enough to share - to know the joy of giving;
To thrill with all the sweets of life - is living.

Cats In Love

2006-10-03T09:17:00.000-04:00

I don't really have a lot of time these days for thoughtful posts. What time I have had, has been spent trying to work the bugs out of beta blogger and learning how to download, upload, any sort of load... the pictures from our new digital camera. I think I need a teenager around here. Anyway... here are a few pictures of the cats. At least I have sort of figured out how to do this!

GIRL

BOY SEES GIRL

BOY LOVES GIRL

Hope I'll have something interesting to say one of these days....

Meanwhile, if you want an interesting read, visit our pastor Carl's blog and check out his thoughts regarding tattoos. I thought it was well written and it helped me to begin to get a grip on what I think about tattooing.

Have a good one!

Blogger Beta is Not Betta

2006-09-29T09:40:00.000-04:00

Blogger Beta is not better... at least not for now. I read somewhere that everyone would have to change to beta eventually, so I figured I might as well get it over with. I knew that I would lose all my blinkies, etc. in the switch, but figured I could redo later by copying and pasting them from my old template. Hmmmmm. Not only can I not figure out how to do such a thing in the new system, but I can't even add my links to other people's web sites and there is a supposed to be an "easy" button to do this. Grrrrr... It keeps telling me to correct my errors..... Grrrrrrrr....... Last night there was a "revert to your old template" button, but this morning that option does not seem to be working. In other words.... too bad lady, you switched and now you're stuck with this "new and improved" system. Grrrrr..... So, until I get this figured out, my little spot on the web is boring and lonely. I did manage to link my Weather Girl, but that's it. Bah humbug.

In Other Words: When I Grow Up

2006-09-26T07:21:00.000-04:00

"It takes a lot of courage to show your dreams to someone else." ~ Erma Bombech ~

I remember…

My youngest stepdaughter Brooke was probably about eight years old. I don’t remember exactly what we were doing at the time, but it was something mindless enough to pave the way for a few moments of in-depth conversation.

“What do you want to be when you grow up?” I asked.

I was trying to imagine what Brooke might say. Perhaps she would say she wanted to be an actress. Brooke bordered on the dramatic and always seemed to be in motion. She brought smiles into the room wherever she went and was never without a pose for the camera.

Or maybe she would say she wanted to be a teacher and follow in her mom’s footsteps. Maybe she would say a doctor, or even the president. She was still young enough to dream big and believe it would come to pass. What would Brooke say?

“So,” I repeated, “what do you want to be when you grow up?”

Brooke stopped what she was doing, closed her eyes and squished up her face into her “I’m really thinking hard” pose. Finally she said, “I want to be a cheerleader.”

My eyebrows rose involuntarily and my corners of my mouth upturned. “A cheerleader? Like on TV?”

Visions of our little Brookie dressed in a Dallas Cowboys cheerleader uniform with a big smile and even bigger hair flashed through my head. I panicked just a little.

“No, not TV,” Brooke said. “I want to be a cheerleader… like at school.”

Suddenly I realized: “grown up” to her was being a cheerleader for her big brother’s basketball team! That’s what she aspired to, a high school cheerleader. I was really smiling now. Oh! To be that young again!

The quote of the week is: “It takes a lot of courage to show your dreams to someone else.”

How true that statement is. We take the risk of being rejected or ridiculed when we expose our dreams to others. But dreaming, or hoping, is a necessary part of living, at least living fully. Dreaming of the future, making plans, and having hopes is what keeps us moving forward in life.

I don’t remember what I wanted to be when I grew up. I think it changed weekly, depending on the book I was reading at the time. When I was reading Nancy Drew, I wanted to be an investigator. When reading Little House books I wanted to be a teacher. The biography of Florence Nightingale convinced me that nursing was the occupation of choice. I know I always wanted to be a mom. Well... I never “became” any of these things, not even the mom, but my life hasn’t been without purpose along the way.

I suppose at almost 50 years old I’m considered to be a grown up now, but that doesn’t mean I don’t still have hopes and dreams, dreams of what I may want to be when I grow up further.

So…. what do I want to be? These days, the answer is much more difficult to attain than any childhood dreams may have been. These days the answer involves not a "simple" four-year degree, but a lifetime of allowing God to work in my heart to change me. It means picking up a cross and laying down a life... not that easy to do for us self-centered sons and daughters of Adam.

What do I want to be when I “grow up”?

I want to be like Jesus.

I want to be forgiving, loving, merciful, bold, gentle, giving, wise, gracious, strong, fearless, patient, compassionate, self-controlled…. and so on…. and on and on and on.

I’m sure some people read that and find it amusing. They may ridicule me or reject me for my big dreams. Their eyebrows might rise and the corners of their mouth might upturn, but I don’t care.

At almost fifty years old I’m still young enough to dream big and believe it will come to pass.

I want to be like Jesus when I grow up! What about you?

“Dear friends, now we are children of God, and what we will be has not yet been made known. But we know that when he appears, we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is.” 1 John 3:2

To read other thoughts on this quote, click here:

In Other Words: The Sacred Ordinary

2006-09-19T09:04:00.000-04:00

"No distinction was made between the sacred and the everyday... their life was all one piece. It was all sacred and all ordinary." ~ Sue Bender ~ author of Plain and Simple

Oh! The bliss of ordinary! Oh! The awe inspiring sacred!

We do tend to fragment our lives, but this should not be so. Sometimes we long for more drama, but a simple life is a gift. Ordinary is a blessing that we often take for granted... ask anyone who is in crisis and they will tell you.

I push the toast down again and gaze out the window. My husband stumbles in to pour himself that first cup of coffee. "Morning hun." "Morning," I say. There is peace and love here in our home. It's a sacred thing.

I enter the quiet halls of faith and find a seat. The sun streams through bits of colored glass and settles across my lap. The organ begins to sing. I hear people behind me chatting. My prayers rise like smoke to Father. It's a simple thing.

We drive home from church. Eat a meal. Talk of what the children and grandchildren may be up to that afternoon. The Diet Cokes crack open and we sit on the deck to enjoy the last warm days of the year, watching our little kitten chase bugs. God is good. This moment belongs to Him, as all our moments do. It's a sacred moment, as well as a simple one.

We live ordinary lives, but because the Lord is with us, everything becomes extraordinary, special... it's all a sacred gift from our loving Heavenly Father. If only we would pay better attention.

"They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts, praising God and enjoying the favor of all the people." Acts 2:46-47

To read other's thoughts on this quote, click here and follow the link to "Holy Experience"

What Men Want

2006-09-09T09:01:00.000-04:00

It’s only fair. I should attempt to answer the other question. I wrote about what women want, and now here I am with the men.

I have my own ideas about what men want, and we actually received a joke in email about it the other day... something about a rich deaf mute nymphomaniac... but I thought it best to go right to the source to get a serious answer. I should ask a man what men REALLY want.

Dan and I were driving home from a football game last night when I asked him, “What do men want?”

“Huh?” I knew he was lost in thought about gaps and missed tackles and west coast offenses, so I thought I’d bring him back to earth. “What are you talking about?” he asked with a hint of linebacker still dripping from his lips.

I scanned the edge of the woods, watching for deer, and replied, “What do men want most? If you were making a movie called What Men Want, what would you say? I made a post to my blog about what women want, and now I want to write what men want. So what is it?”

Silence. We spotted a young buck on the other side of the road.

Finally, “I can’t think of the word,” Dan says.

“Well... what are your thoughts about the word you can’t think of?”

We then had a short conversation tossing words and ideas back and forth, but just exactly the right word never came into his mind. We talked about companionship, respect, admiration... something about two oxen in a yoke (which I decided not to take offense at). I guess from our conversation, I will deduce that what men want most is a supportive partner. Not supportive in the sense of a man needing support like a crutch, but supportive as in knowing they have a cheerleader. And the partner part envelops many ideas... lover, companion, and helper. Wow, this sounds just like Adam and Eve, doesn’t it? Imagine that! And it came right from the ox’s mouth too (no offense Dan)!

Of course, being a woman, I couldn’t leave well enough alone. I wanted a “feeling” word. Women like feelings. “Supportive partner” sounds kind of dull and boring. It sounds like something a man would say. I wanted a juicier word than that. So I say to Dan, “That’s good, but I need a “feeling” word too. Can’t you come up with something better? I want you to fill in this blank: I want to feel _______. What? Respect? Admiration? What is it? Fill in the blank. It’s most important that my wife blanks me.”

Long pause.

Dan is thinking.

I am waiting expectantly.

Dan replies, “Worships me?”

LOL. We both laugh. The conversation has obviously run it’s course and I will have to do the best I can with what I have. We return to nose tackles and two-minute offenses.

Yesterday, I wrote about what I think women want, and the simple answer came out like poetry.

The answer to what men want is simple too, but it’s come out more like a limerick. No surprise there! Ha!

What do men want? It's simpler than I thought: they want a rich deaf mute nymphomaniac... who will laugh at their jokes!

“The Lord God said, “It is not good for the man to be alone, I will make a helper suitable for him.” Genesis 2:18

What Women Want

2006-09-08T11:07:00.000-04:00

It's pretty simple. Really.

You're beautiful. You're beautiful. You're beautiful. It's true.

It's a song by James Blunt. If you could hear the tune, you'd recognize it. It's a song about a love he won't have, but it's this chorus that gets to me, and I'm sure it gets to most women everywhere.

You're beautiful. Say it three times for impact. It's true. We long to hear it sung to us, or whispered in our ear.

When we're young and beautiful, we long to hear it because we're unsure and untested. We don't believe the mirror. We believe the lies in our head.

Then finally, painstakingly, we free ourselves from the never-ending loop of lies only to see an unrecognizable woman staring back at us from the glass. The golden locks of summer have fallen out, replaced by great aunt Winnie's silver hair. When did this happen? Gravity is winning the war and our sun kissed cheeks look like twin leather coin purses. Now we long to hear the song even more so. Whisper it. Sing it. Shout it. We'll turn up our hearing aids.

You're beautiful. You're beautiful. You're beautiful. It's true.

Remind us of who we were before we were wives and mothers, before we were grandmothers. Help us find that woman again, the woman you fell in love with. She must be here somewhere. Maybe she's hiding in the back of the closet afraid to come out, afraid of the mirrors, her gray hairs and those leather purses on her cheeks. Didn't she used to sing? To dance? Did she go somewhere to hide while the rugs were being vacuumed yet again?

"How was your day?" he asks as he plops on the sofa and reaches for the remote, thinking his obligation fulfilled. "Fine," she responds. She cooks dinner. He watches the sports reviews. While the kids are young, they eat at the table and talk of family things. Then the kids grow up, leave home, and dinner is eaten from their laps. He knows how her day went; he was there, so he doesn't ask. But does he really know? They eat with the evening news. He tinkers with the car. She scrubs the sink. "Thanks for dinner. It was good."

You're beautiful. You're beautiful. You're beautiful. It's true.

She adjusts the heating pad on her knee, gazes into the distant past, and smiles, "Remember when we danced around that fountain?"

We want to be danced again. Admired. Winked at from across the room. Where do the years go? When did we lose ourselves? Where?

The light begins to come on. He wonders if she's laughed today, smiled even. He, "I love this picture you drew. I'm so glad I have it. You should do another."

She stirs from her nap in the chair and cracks open one eye to look at him.

He, "Can I take your picture?"

"Again?" she frowns, but her heart begins to smile.

The kids fly away and their house is filled with cats. In the quiet you'd think there would be lots of time to find themselves again, but gravity pulls at more than skin. It seems to slow down the very pulse of life. It's easy to lose ourselves somewhere in the everyday when the only new thing is a fresh squeak in the floor.

We need to laugh more. Have more adventures. They can be quieter and simpler, but we still need them. Where, oh where, is my knight in shining armor?

"Rapunzel! Let down your hair! I don't care if it's gray. Let's go somewhere. I'll sing Suwannee River and we can find a fountain to dance around. You take pictures of things to draw, and I'll take pictures of you! You're beautiful. You're beautiful. You're beautiful. It's true."

"How beautiful you are, my darling! Oh, how beautiful!" Song of Songs 1:15

Draw Me Something

2006-09-04T08:57:00.000-04:00

Click Here to get this from FreeFlashToys.com!

Photos

2006-08-31T18:27:00.000-04:00

I posted a couple of new pictures on our Bodaville Photo page. Check out the bowl of Skittles and some Cousins. (Skittles? Did I spell that right? It looks weird.)

The Four Cat Saga

2006-08-31T09:10:00.001-04:00

Now you will see why we have this weird "I've seen this cat before" thing going on around here. I don't know why our cats always look alike.

On the top left we see Luke. He was our first kitty. He was such a good-natured little sweetheart. We adopted Gabriel (top right) just about a year after Luke. Dan and I both worked full time and Luke needed a friend since he was home alone and going slightly bonkers. Gabe was a bit of a hissy cat, but he eventually mellowed out in his old age (thankfully). We all lived happily together for about 13 years until Luke died in early 2003. I was heartbroken. It was my first experience with having a long term pet die, and we had to have him put to sleep no less! ..... so sad!

A few months after Luke died, we adopted Olivia (lower left). See any similarities here? Not intentional. I knew Luke couldn't be replaced. I didn't want a cat that looked like him. Hmmmmm. Amazingly enough, old Gabriel loved his kitten Olivia. The last three years of his life I think were the happiest. He mellowed out and finally had another kitty to snuggle with. Olivia worshiped him. All good things must come to an end though, and we had to have Gabriel put to sleep this past winter. He died fat, happy, and loved, and thankfully my grieving was not as bad as the first time.

Now we've added Jonah. Hmmmmmm. Do we see a pattern developing? Again, not intentional. I'm not a big fan of white or orange cats, but Jonah was just the sweetest guy.

Oh well. The saga continues......

Sunrise Snagging

2006-08-31T06:24:00.000-04:00

It's six o'clock in the morning. The kitties woke me again, but I'm not tired. Ha ha ha.... I tricked them! I went to bed at ten PM! I'd asked Dan yesterday to PLEASE get up with them one of these mornings so that I could get some sleep. He was so sweet this morning and started to get up..... but I told him to go back to bed. I really feel okay having had my eight hours!!! Maybe we will have to do this tag team thing until Jonah grows up a bit. I will have to give up my Seinfeld and Jay Leno, but oh well. The annoying thing is...... now that I am up, both Jonah and Olivia are off somewhere sleeping!!!!!! How rude!

So anyway, I've been cruising the CWO blog ring this morning looking for interesting things. I got eight hours of sleep, but it is 6 AM after all!!!! so I am too lazy to write my own stuff! Here's some of what I found. All copied:

* * * * * * * * * *

"Character cannot be developed in peace and quiet. Only through experience of trial and suffering can the soul be strengthened, ambitions inspired, and success achieved." - Helen Keller

* * * * * * * * * *

"Health is not simply the absence of sickness." - Hannah Green -

* * * * * * * * * *

I'm not really a recipie kind of girl... but this sounds so easy and looks GREAT, so I may have to try it one of these days.

Olga Bread

1 cup milk
1/4 cup warm warm water
1/4 cup honey
1 egg
4 cups flour
1 tsp. salt
1 package dry yeast
1/4 cup butter
1 tsp. sugar

Scald the milk then stir in the butter till melted. Stir in honey and salt. In a separate bowl, combine yeast, warm water, and yeast. Let both bowls set till slightly cooled. Add 1 1/2 c. flour to milk mixture. Lightly beat the egg and mix in. Stir in yeast mixture and finally the remaining flour. Knead just a bit and then let rise till double. Divide in 16 balls and roll flat in flour. Fry on a dry griddle, about 1 1/2 minutes per side. The top will bubble and the underside will be browned in spots.

This makes a WONDERFUL soft flat bread. It was great with the gyros last night. And the leftovers were great this morning with butter, cinnamon & sugar and then broiled. Yummmmmmm!

* * * * * * * * * *

I might have to give this one a try too:

"Goal for today:
My goal today is to verbally thank my husband 10 times. No, not contrived, make stuff up thank you's, but heartfelt thank you's, when I notice the little things that I would otherwise take for granted."

* * * * * * * * * *

This was posted by a missionary in Bandung, Java, Indonesia. She is there with her husband and children. I found this very interesting. Our water in our house stinks (literally), but seeing this makes me thankful....

"Here is a picture of our water system. You can see many hoses coming out of one big post thingy. Each of those hoses runs to a different house. Along the way, nearly all of them are fixed with duct tape or rags. If you don't have enough water coming in your house, you just disconnect someone else's hose, and connect it to your house!! It's every man for himself.

You can see why we don't drink the tap water!"

* * * * * * * * * *

We'll end with this photo that I snagged from someone's blog. I love the photo and the socks! Maybe because we're starting to feel that hint of fall in the air around here I would just love to slide my feet into these socks! Yes, I know... I'm easily amused.

Have a great day!

Jonah, King of the Jungle

2006-08-28T16:59:00.000-04:00

Here's the best I can do for a picture of our new addition. I've taken lots of pictures of Jonah and Olivia this past week and they just didn't come out when I got them developed! Grrrrrr!!!!!!!! This was the best one, Jonah sitting in the bay window contemplating his next move.

Because of the bad pictures Dan and I have decided that we have purchased our last roll of film. I am slaving away this week preparing to have a yard sale this weekend.... and the proceeds will go toward the purchase of a digital camera! Yea!

Olivia and Jonah are doing very well together. They play tag, they wrestle, they even curl up together (sort of) as long as Olivia is very tired and too lazy to get up when Jonah cuddles up to her. Now..... if only we can get them both to sleep through the night! Alas.

In Other Words: Inconceivable

2006-08-27T15:30:00.000-04:00

"I thought about the whole notion of "reproduction," and what it really means to replicate yourself. Is it merely about the passing on of eyes and chins and hair color? Or is it, rather, the replication of the heart? Do we leave a bigger mark by passing on our genes, or our thoughts?" ~ Shannon Woodward, author of Inconceivable: Finding Peace in the Midst of Infertility ~

Several years ago I sat down to my computer and read an email from a woman I didn’t know. Actually this was a common occurrence for me. I am the owner and moderator of an email group for infertile women called Shiloh Garden. In working through my own emotions surrounding my infertility, I needed to talk to women who understood my pain, and so I started Shiloh Garden. There were lots of groups for women struggling with infertility, lots of groups talking about temperature taking and raging hormones, but I was beyond all of that and getting older every day. There was no baby. There would be no baby, ever. I needed friends who were past their years of treatment. I needed women who were facing their futures without children, and knew it. I needed women whose hopes for one reason or another were gone, who wanted to accept God’s will in this matter, but didn’t know how. I wanted a friend who was like me.

Shiloh Garden was planted and the women came. One by one God led them to Shiloh, just as Hannah had visited Shiloh in the Scriptures. We wrote to each other, we prayed, we “vented” and poured out our hearts, we wept. Unlike Hannah in the Bible who the Lord eventually blessed with baby Samuel, many infertile women remain at Shiloh for a lifetime… with empty arms. It’s an isolating place to be at times, especially in the Church. But through the miracle of the Internet God made provision so that we don’t have to walk this road alone any longer. Those of us whom God led to Shiloh Garden have planted a garden of friendship and encouragement along this infertility road. God has been good to us.

And then came the day when a woman wrote asking to join our group. Her introduction email to the group was typical in many ways. She wrote about her journey on this road, her sorrow and her pain, mentioning along the way that “infertility no longer has the painful hold it once had on me.” That comment jumped out at me. I was intrigued. It’s certainly not a typical comment for an introductory email. Then this woman named Shannon wrote this, “Something else I must tell you. I'm a writer... and I started revisiting my old memories because I've been asked to write a book about infertility. The publisher wants it to be written from someone who has never conceived. They've published other books by people who were temporarily infertile, but they want the perspective of someone who is on the other side of the journey. I was speaking with my editor last week and she said, "No one on our publishing board has ever dealt with infertility. It would be good if you included a note saying you have spoken with 20 or so women and this is what they'd like in a book." I thought, "Twenty women? Where am I going to find twenty women to talk to about this?" And I truly did not have that in my mind when I decided to join Shilohgarden. But guess what number I am? I'm member number 20 :) Isn't that odd?”

Odd? Or orchestrated? Hmmmmm....

And thus began my correspondence with Shannon, and her correspondence with us. It didn't matter to me that Shannon was writing a book. I thought that was great. Hurting women need all the help they can get. I only cared that Shiloh Garden remain a safe place for women in pain. Shannon was infertile. Perhaps she could help someone else find freedom from the pain of infertility through the sharing of her experiences and faith. Shannon joined our little group. She poured through our archives and got to her writing (at this point in time our archives hold more than 5000 messages, written during the past 6 ½ years). I don’t know how many messages there were in the archives when Shannon joined, but there were LOTS! Shannon did not just read our stuff though. She did not pick our brains or steal our words. Over the course of months and now years, Shannon entered into conversations. She shared her own experiences and her own pain and then she offered hope and encouragement to those who were still lost in sorrow. She was honest, caring and available. Women came and women left. We now number thirty six, but there have been more and less throughout these past years.

We prayed. We shared. We all cried… and Shannon wrote to us and wrote her book. And now the day has come we’ve all been waiting for, the birth of Shannon’s book: Inconceivable: Finding Peace In The Midst Of Infertility. I read my name and that of Shiloh Garden in the acknowledgements of Shannon’s book and I am humbled and a bit embarrassed. What did I do? What did Shiloh Garden do? We drew up a shade to a world that Shannon already knew all too well. That hardly seems like much. Shannon’s story is different than all of ours, but it’s the same. I think she did a good job of putting into words the pain of women who live their lives without giving birth, without reproducing. It’s such a private sorrow. Most people have no idea the depth of the grief and loss.

And that brings us to this quote of the week. Shannon Woodward has left her mark on me. She has never cried out with labor pains, but she has wept with all of us even as she wrote this book. In a way, all infertile women have labored and cried out with pain, but it's just that there is no baby at the end who will erase our sorrows. Someone else does that. Perhaps Shannon knows this labor more than the rest of us since she was the one chosen to give birth to our deepest feelings. She is attempting to put into words everything we’ve always wanted to say to those who can’t understand the depth of our loss. And more importantly, she lays out the treasure map which enables women everywhere to find the way to what so intrigued me when we first met: the place where Shannon was able to say “infertility no longer has the painful hold it once had on me.” The way to healing is brutal and sometimes long, but the road to peace is possible.

I’ve never met Shannon. I’m sure she is a beautiful woman. Her children would have no doubt had beautiful eyes and chins and hair color. But through Shannon’s infertility the Lord is using her to bring people to Himself. He revealed truth to her, and I am so thankful that she shared it with us and is now sharing it with the world. Our genes may leave a mark on one (or on a handful if we are so blessed), but our thoughts can leave a mark on millions. Shannon’s thoughts will have a profound impact on many women who are hurting and crying out for understanding and peace. Her honest exposure of the hurt, anger and frustration infertile women feel will bear fruit. Women will find healing. Families, friends and churches will gain needed insight into how to help the hurting who often feel isolated and forgotten. God heals, but he often uses people to facilitate that healing. Thank you Shannon for being a willing, faithful servant of God. Thank you for sharing your heart with us and faithfully leading us “to the One who heals all things broken”. Someday on earth, or maybe not until heaven, I will throw my arms around you and give you that long overdue hug!

God is good. God’s will be done. We grow in grace.

“Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God.” 2 Corinthians 1:3-4

Read other's thoughts on this quote here:

Pray Believing & Jonah

2006-08-23T17:10:00.000-04:00

"The prayer of a righteous man is powerful and effective." James 5:16

What about the prayers of a boy and a dog???

We got this picture in email a week or so ago. Pretty cute.

* * * * * * * *

Speaking of pretty cute..... Dan and I adopted another kitty this past Monday.

His name is Jonah.

Well, actually it's Jonah Josiah Joshua Jackson, but we're calling him Jonah which means peace. And Josiah was a good king, so our little kitty Jonah is going to be the peaceful king of our jungle. At least that's what he thinks. Older sister, kitty Olivia (Olivia Victoria Peanut Punkin Boo Sarah Angelica Two Socks), may have something to say about that (her being queen and all).

Jonah looks pretty much just like Gabriel did, white and orange (only Jonah is more white and tan right now and I'm hoping he stays that way). We didn't plan on getting a Gabriel clone (our cat who died last winter), but Jonah was the sweetest kitten out of the dozens we had to choose from at the Humane Society. We didn't intend to get a male either, but apparently God had other plans for our new addition. We were more interested in temperament than in looks. He purrs like crazy, keeps his claws in, is very gentle, and doesn't bite hard like most kittens his age. When he's not sleeping on Dan's chest, he's dancing across the floor sideways trying to look all big and mighty (all three pounds of him). He's about 10 weeks old, a bit older and bigger than Olivia was when we adopted her.

So far, he and Olivia are playing chase together a couple of times a day and checking each other out from closer and closer distances. Olivia will hiss occasionally, but we're pleased that it looks like they will be friends. Olivia will thank us someday that she will have company when they are banished to David's farm for six weeks at a time.

I don't have pictures developed yet, but will post something when it's available.

You can send any adoption gifts, new cat toys, money, etc. to us at our address!

ha!

In Other Words Tuesday - Drink Deeply

2006-08-20T15:08:00.000-04:00

"Salt, when dissolved in water, may disappear, but it does not cease to exist. We can be sure of its presence by tasting the water. Likewise, the indwelling Christ, though unseen, will be made evident to others from the love which He imparts to us." ~Sadhu Sundar Singh~

Wow! I love this quote! The whole unseen indwelling Christ picture is awesome to me and it has been from the moment I first believed.

I was 20 years old when I came to Christ. At the moment of my salvation, from the outside I looked the same, but on the inside something had drastically changed and I knew it. The light had come on and there was a flood of understanding and a mysterious assurance of God’s unending love and acceptance. How do we explain this to unbelievers? How is it possible to put into words what it feels like to suddenly know without a doubt that you are the dwelling place of the Holy Spirit of God? How does one describe an inward change of the heart to an unbelieving world?

Of course I’ve had my doubts and struggles along the way… that first flush of faith must be tested and refined and grown up, but as far and as often as I have strayed since coming to know Christ, I have never been able to escape the fact that the truth had been revealed to me. The truth was made known and I accepted God’s gift to me, once and for all, almost 30 years ago now. God’s gift of my faith forever changed the course of my life, for it is He who blessed me with the power to believe. I am God’s child. Sometimes I don’t act like it, but God claims me anyway and keeps me in His hand, and I am forever grateful.

So what do my friends and family taste when they bump up against me? Is there any part of the Lord shining out from my weary wounds? Do the people I know see a graying, sometimes-fearful introvert who likes to create and write and sometimes clean (yeah, I know, I’m weird) or do they see Jesus? Have I let the Holy Spirit infiltrate to the depths of me? Have I let Him ooze out to my fingertips? Can a passerby look at my life, my actions, and me, and see anything of the unseen God of the universe? Am I letting His love flow through me and overflow onto all those around me?

This reminds me of my slightly evil husband many years ago. He had a can of Coke and I asked him for a swig. He generously handed over the can and I greedily tipped bottoms up to quench my thirst. Unbeknownst to me however, Dan had long before finished the Coke and refilled his can with milk. What a weirdo! Needless to say, I freaked out when a thick milky substance filled my mouth when I was expecting Cola. Dan got a good laugh out of it, I gave myself whiplash, and the ants got a drink of 2 percent. Actually, now that I'm thinking about this again, this qualifies for the very evil file Dan! Anyway, there was a point here. It might have looked like a Coke from the outside, but it’s what’s inside the can that counts. When we pour ourselves out, when people take a drink from our resources, what do they taste? Are we giving them the “Real Thing”? (La de da de da!!!!! You’ll have to be as old as me to recognize that “real thing” Coke jingle!)

Here’s another related thought that is worth repeating here. This is something I recently copied from a blog somewhere (sorry I can't give credit where credit is due):

“We can use the metaphor of a sponge to explain what happens with our hearts when we’re in the midst of a difficult situation. Just like liquid oozes from a sponge when you press down on it, the contents of our hearts make themselves known when life squeezes us. Is it water? Is it vinegar? Is it sulfuric acid? Easy to determine once the liquid is splattered onto the floor. Not easy when it’s hidden within the sponge. Only when we’re under pressure do we get a chance to see clearly what’s going on inside of us. Sometimes we need to not blame the squeeze, or even the person doing the squeezing, but for the sake of our godliness and character see it as a good opportunity to get a peek into what’s within our hearts.”

Anyway……I fall way short of my goals, but I hope that people see Jesus in me once in awhile. It’s what I live for. I’ve tasted the Water of Life. It’s salty, but a good salty that always keeps me coming back for more. Through my words, through my art, through my life and my testimony, I hope you can taste the Water too. Yes, it’s salty, but salt can heal. Drink deeply. You’ll never be thirsty again.

Thank you dear Lord Jesus for the breath of life and for holding us to your heart. All glory to you.

Read other's thoughts on this quote here:

Attitude is Everything

2006-08-19T14:48:00.000-04:00

What a busy awesome summer we have had!

We enjoyed all of our company... friends, family, kids, and grandkids.

Dan and I are pooped, but we can't wipe the smiles off of our faces.

We've been going nonstop for five weeks now.

That's busy for us old retired folks!

After a quick trip to Tennessee to take Brooke and Brooklynn back,

we're looking forward to some quiet time here at home.

The weather will start to cool down and football is in the air!

We're looking forward to adopting another kitty soon.

David has agreed to be our cat sitter when we travel,

and Olivia needs a playmate for those long hours when he will be at work.

Perhaps I'll have more time to think and blog in the weeks ahead.

Meanwhile, here is something that was sent to me in my email.

I thought it was awesome!

I've got a long way to go to be this woman, but she's my new hero!

Thanks for stopping by!

Attitude is Everything

There once was a woman who woke up one morning,

looked in the mirror, and noticed she had only three hairs on her head.

"Well," she said, "I think I'll braid my hair today."

So she did and she had a wonderful day.

The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror

and saw that she had only two hairs on her head.

"Hmmm, "she said, "I think I'll part my hair down the middle today."

So she did and she had a grand day.

The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror

and noticed that she had only one hair on her head.

"Well," she said, "Today I'm going to wear my hair in a pony tail."

So she did and she had a fun, fun day.

The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror

and noticed that there wasn't a single hair on her head.

"Yeah!" she exclaimed, "I don't have to fix my hair today!"

Attitude is everything.

In "Other" Words Tuesday

2006-08-06T15:55:00.000-04:00

SUBTITLE: Brooklynn Goes for a Walk and Leaves Nana in the Dust

Click here to read other's thoughts on this week's quote:

"Remember, we all stumble, every one of us. That's why it's a comfort to go hand in hand." ~ Emily Kimbrough ~

Our almost two-year-old granddaughter is visiting. Brooklynn’s little legs are strong. She walks. She runs. She can half squat, and hold that position for what seems like an unnatural and painful length of time.

On a recent morning I carried Brooklynn outside to our yard. I thought we’d have a nice walk and check out the “crops”. Hand in hand we would walk along. I’d point out the colors of the flowers and we’d admire the squash and corn. It would be a picture perfect moment. Hmmm.

As soon as Brooklynn’s little feet touched the lawn she was off and running. There would be no holding hands with Nana. She can walk by herself!!! She toddled along doing that squat thing every once in awhile to get a closer look at something hidden in the grass, but as far as she was concerned I was immaterial and dispensable. Despite my burst bubble, I joyfully toddled after her, not letting her stray too far. Our grass is soft, but rocks line the gardens and Nanas know that stumbles do happen. We ended up playing in a big puddle that had formed in a folded up tarp. That was more fun than looking at vegetables anyway!

Even when the grass is soft, it’s a comfort when we stumble to have a hand holding onto ours. It’s a blessing to have loved ones close by to encourage us, build us up, and help us when we fall, but there’s another side to this coin that we don’t often consider.

When we walk hand in hand, there’s always a chance that we might be dragged down when our friend stumbles. We need to be on our guard.

When I read this quote, I thought of my walk with Brooklynn. I imagined her thinking to herself, “No way lady. I’m not holding your hand. If you fall, you will crush me. I don’t know this lawn. Look at those rocks over there. I don’t know you that well either. I don’t know if you can be trusted. I’m safer on my own. I’m a good walker. I’m a good runner. I can do this squat thing for hours on end. If I hold your hand and you stumble, you will drag me down and I have places to go and things to do… see ya!”

God made us for community. I believe his desire is to see us walking hand in hand with each other, but with blessing comes responsibility. Sometimes it’s appropriate to be a bit independent just like Brooklynn.

Who are we holding hands with? Do we know them? Where are they leading us? Who else is a part of the picture? Who is holding our friend’s other hand? Is it the Lord? Do our companions continually drag us down instead us lifting them up?

Are we prepared in our relationships to at times be the strong one? Are we faithful to help our friends up each time they fall or do we judge them harshly? While we walk along in the comfort of knowing someone will be there when we stumble, we need to remember that we have a responsibility too. If our friend falls, we need to be ready to help him get back up and on the right road again. Sometimes God will call us to be the strong one. We need to be on guard so that we don’t fall when our friends fall. Every outing should have a ready and willing designated non-stumbler!

As we walk through this world hand in hand with those we love, don’t forget to keep holding onto God. Keep a hand free for His, and be ready to place a friend’s hand into the One that will never let go. Only then, will we be truly safe when we stumble.

“If one falls down, his friend can help him up. But pity the man who falls and has no one to help him up!” Ecclesiastes 4:10

In "Other" Words Tuesday

2006-07-31T23:20:00.000-04:00

I'm getting quite annoyed with blogger. It seems like I can never upload a photo on Tuesdays. What's with that? And I had two cute little mice to go with this post! A happy mouse and a not so happy mouse. Alas! Perhaps I will be able to post the photo later. Meanwhile here are my thoughts on this week's quote. To read what others had to say, click on the above link!

"There are two kinds of people: those who say to God, 'Thy will be done,' and those to whom God says, 'All right, then, have it your way.'"

~ C.S. Lewis ~

[Please note in the above picture: Whether we say "Thy will be done," or God says, "All right, have it your way," we are never out of his hand!]

I’ve been struggling with what to write concerning this quote. I’d like to be able to say, “Amen Mr. Lewis! And why can’t more people be like us?” But the reality is, and I think Mr. Lewis would have agreed if he'd thought it through, there is really only one kind of person. Sometimes we welcome God’s will with joy and other times we go our own way. Every believer is both kinds of person every day of our lives.

Perhaps those who are walking closest to the Lord commit sins of omission rather than sins of commission, but nevertheless we fall short. For example, we may pray “Thy will be done” in one breath and then neglect the quiet voice that prompts us to make that visit or write that note later in the day.

In our eyes, in our world, we haven’t actually done anything wrong, but the Lord says to us, “All right, then, have it your way, take that nap, go to the mall. I’ll get someone else today to do my work. I’ll find that person who is listening to me, who is anxious to serve rather than be served.”

We take our naps, we play with our kids, we go to the mall, we buy a new Bible and all is well. Meanwhile, our grandmothers sit by the phone hoping it will ring. That widow at church wanders around her kitchen searching for a purpose. The young single mother who sits in the pew behind us every Sunday weeps in her bathroom overwhelmed with her load. It doesn’t usually take a whole lot to make a difference in someone’s day… a call or note of appreciation goes a long way in letting people know they are precious to us and not alone in their trials.

And you know the interesting thing? When we are feeling overwhelmed or without purpose… or lonely, if we take the time to reach out to someone else instead of waiting to be reached out to, our load is suddenly lighter. Try it.

Jesus is all-powerful, but he’s gentle. He’s a whisperer. Are we listening? And more importantly, when we hear him, are we putting our Bibles down and getting up off of the sofa?

Us: “Thy will be done Lord.”

God: “All right, then, we’re in agreement.”

“What good is it, my brothers, if a man claims to have faith but has no deeds? Can such faith save him? … faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead.” James 2:14, 17

Sand Castles

2006-07-30T08:11:00.000-04:00

I always do a few crafty things with the grandkids each summer. This year one of the things we did was to make permanent sand castles. I got the recipe from vacation Bible school crafts. You mix up some sand, corn starch, and water and cook it. The sand thickens up to a dough and dries hard. We had fun sculpting our masterpieces and adding toothpick flags and glitter. We talked about how the castles can remind us that we love each other forever even when we're apart. We also talked about living with Jesus forever when we put our faith in him and how he is preparing a forever place for us.

It must be the summer of sand castles because then today I got this link from a friend. WOW! Now here are some sand castles to see! Click here:Sand Castles

Maybe you will be inspired to build your own sand castle this summer. Go ahead, get your feet wet and your hands dirty. And while you're building, remember God loves you forever. If you've trusted him and you've given your heart to his care, he is preparing a place for you..... a place with him..... a permanent place. Hope to see you there!

"In my Father's house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am." John 14:2-3

Conversations I Love

2006-07-27T20:46:00.000-04:00

My nine year old granddaughter and I have some interesting conversations. Here's one of them. Today we were at the park. Grandpa and I packed a picnic lunch. After eating, the kids played on the playground equipment. They spun each other around on the mini merry go round until Honour ripped her shorts, Silas got his leg stuck and needed to be rescued, and Harmonee started to feel sick from dizziness.

Taking a break from the spinning, Harmonee came to sit with me on a porch type swing made for the grownups who are supervising their kids at the playground.

"I'm feeling a little sick grandma. I'll be glad when I turn ten."

"Why's that?" I ask.

"Because then I'll be done with my croup."

"What? Croup?" I hold in my smile, but I'm already amused because we've had this croup conversation before.

"Oh, haven't I told you about my croup? It's a disease that babies get sometimes from when they're born. I've got the croup so my doctor says I can't go outside when it's nighttime or cold."

"Oh really?" I stifle my desire to laugh.

"Yes, because I can't breathe...... because of my croup... when the air is kind of cold or chilly... like at night."

"Oh," I say. "So your doctor says it will go away when you're ten? What happens then? You'll grow out of it?"

"Yes, I guess," came Harmonee's reply. "I can't wait to turn ten."

"Hmmmmm...." I say in between swings. "So you sometimes have trouble breathing? Do you mean you have asthma?"

"Oh yeah, asthma, that's it."

I smile.

A few moments pass as we sit side by side gently swinging on the swing.

"Do you have an inhaler for your asthma?" I ask.

"A what?"

"An inhaler. A puffer thing that you breathe into when you're having trouble breathing."

"Oh.... that... yeah..... but it's in Iowa."

I let that one go by. We live in Michigan and granddaughter lives in Nebraska. Geography lessons are more than I can muster on a hot humid afternoon and I wasn't sure I wanted to hear the entire Iowa story if indeed the inhaler was in Iowa. A few more moments swing past and Harmonee continues.

"My mom, she usually just gives me purple popsicles."

"What?" I'm wondering if we're still on the same conversation and I'm really smiling now. "She gives you popsicles? To help you breathe better?"

"Well, when I'm sick I get purple popsicles and it helps me feel better."

"Oh!!!!! I get it! Purple popsicles. That makes sense." I love these conversations.

With that Harmonee jumped up and ran off to find her brother and sister. Several times after that she would come up to me and comment about still not feeling well.

Hmmmmmm...... I wonder what that could mean?

Maybe we should drive to Iowa and find that inhaler!!!

[Just for the record, Harmonee didn't get her purple popsicle today, but that's only because she beat me to the ice cream punch and insisted on spending her own money to buy a treat from the Good Humor truck as it drove by our house after we'd arrived home. There's always tomorrow. Grandmas always have a secret stash of popsicles.... at least this grandma does! I'll be saving a purple one for Harmonee.]

Bad Haiku and Patience

2006-07-26T08:08:00.000-04:00

crunchy yellow grass

dry by endless weeks of heat

no hope left for us

joy! last night it came

thunderful buckets of rain

life poured out again

dry souls lost from God

he offers us a fountain

drink deep, hope remains

We had a nice thunderstorm last night. The rain was desperately needed around here. It's been great to not have to mow the lawn this summer, but brown grass is just plain ugly.

When we think that all is lost, God always seems to send the rain just in time.

Our grass looked dead from the outside, but on the inside it has been patiently waiting for the rains to come.

Patience may lose out to desperation at times, but we can always trust in the one who sends the rain. It will come, and in the meantime we need to guard out hearts and trust in the One who sends it.

"Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day." 2 Cor 4:16

Harmonee Has Her Say

2006-07-25T15:59:00.000-04:00

The CD player quietly sucked the disc from Dan’s hand. Moments later the familiar twang of bluegrass music filled the van. I’m not a big fan. Dan turned up the volume. We were between stores. Three grandkids were busy in the backseats with what turned out to be our deal of the day: spiral notebooks, 10 for $1 at Kmart this week (you can’t beat that price with a stick!) The limit was 30, so everyone was happy with their abundance of paper.

Ricky Skaggs blared from the speakers.

We heard Honour (or was it Silas) say, “Who is this?”

The other answered, “I think it’s Elvis.”

Reply, “No way! It’s not Elvis!”

“Yes it is!”

A debate was beginning between the two oldest grandkids, so either Dan or I chimed in fairly quickly in order to avoid the inevitable (I can’t remember which one of us it was now).

“This isn’t Elvis, it’s Ricky Skaggs. This is bluegrass music, not rock ‘n roll.”

A moment of silence descended on the backseat while the victor no doubt gloated and the “loser” wilted.

In that peaceful momentary lull in the conversation, an authoritative voice spoke up from the way back seat even when her tone made it obvious that Harmonee’s mind had already moved on to her next thought.

“Elvis is dead,” she said to no one in particular while her head was buried in a bag of ten-cent notebooks. She spoke in that matter-of-fact dreamy way that only a young child can accomplish. Being the youngest, Harmonee seems to live on the outskirts of most conversations, but when she finally decides to participate it’s often priceless.

Elvis is dead? Dan and I both cracked up. I doubt Harmonee knows who Elvis is, but somewhere in her short years she’s heard the ridiculous Elvis is or isn’t dead debate. She was obviously listening to the music and her brother and sister duke it out with their words. Her comment was timed perfectly and served to sum up the significance of the whole pointless debate and bring us all to tears in a good way.

Elvis is dead…. priceless… or maybe you had to be there. If so, you’ll just have to take my word for it.

Grandkids… where do they get this stuff? You got to love ‘em! And we do. And we are enjoying every minute with them this summer!

“Our mouths were filled with laughter, our tongues with songs of joy. The Lord has done great things for us, and we are filled with joy.” From Psalm 126

In "Other" Words Tuesday

2006-07-24T09:09:00.000-04:00

"One cannot collect all the beautiful shells on the beach. One can collect only a few, and they are more beautiful if they are few." ~ Anne Morrow Lindbergh ~

We always seem to want more. Being content with what we have (what we’ve been given) doesn’t seem to be the normal human condition. We want more, we want different, and yes sometimes, we want it all. We are so busy wanting we don’t take the time to appreciate what we have, and that is a sad situation.

This quote makes me think about what it means to be content and what it means to appreciate the things I’ve been given. Do I value the precious shells I’ve collected, or am I always trying to stuff my pockets with more?

I’m infertile. Like most women, I always wanted my own beach. I wanted my own collection of beautiful shells, but God had other plans for me.

It’s taken me a long time to find contentment without a beach. I live landlocked. Everyone around me has that beachfront property, but I live in the woods. I spent many years standing among the trees gazing across the landscape onto the beaches of my friends and family. Look at all the shells they had! It just wasn’t fair. Look at the sand! The water! Those gorgeous shells! I stood frozen to the ground in grief and my feet could have grown roots from all the tears I cried.

Even though I didn’t believe it at first, God was still good. When I finally began to look up instead of out, I began to see the beauty that the Lord had given me. Yes, even me; even after all the terrible mistakes I’d made, even after all the hurt I’d caused others. I cautiously looked up and it was then that I began to appreciate the woods, the majesty of the trees, the clear blue sky. God is forgiving, and loving. There is life here in the woods: vegetation, animals, birds, and beauty. The rich soil of life here in the woods has enabled me to grow a deep faith that I’m sure I wouldn’t have grown had I lived my life in the sand. When I finally began to look up, I found the strength I needed to at last venture out from my spot of sorrow, trusting in God for my strength.

I still live in the woods, but I’ve come to know it as quite a lovely place in its own way. I’ve learned to appreciate what I’ve been given, and I learn to appreciate it more as each day goes by. I live in the woods, but I’m no longer frozen there in my grief. I still have my moments of sorrow for sure, but I venture out in ways I never did when my grief was new. I visit other people’s beaches and I’ve even found a second home on some of them.

The shells I’ve gathered since finding the strength to step out in faith, step kids and grandkids that love me and appreciate me, may not have been found on a beach that belongs to me, but they are in many ways mine nevertheless. The Lord was gracious and merciful despite my sin and He is the one who has allowed me to gather these shells of extraordinary beauty. I cannot put into words what my heart feels when I hear, “Look at me Grandma!” from across the room and I turn to see a precious child looking at me, calling for me! I live in the woods, but these children don’t know it, and they share their hearts with me without hesitation. Joy! Praise! I am humbled by God’s goodness to me.

No one gets everything they want in life. But when we walk with the Lord, there are always treasures to be found in secret places, hidden blessings we never expected to find along paths that seemed endlessly sorrowful. The shells we collect may be few, but the longer we’ve had to search for them makes the finding even more meaningful. Each one is a gift.

No child of God lives a life without being blessed.

The secret to contentment is always about looking up, not out.

“I will give you the treasures of darkness, riches stored in secret places, so that you may know that I am the Lord, the God of Israel, who summons you by name.” Isaiah 45:3

Read other's thoughts on this quote:

Another Kind of Painting

2006-07-13T14:04:00.000-04:00

I'm not really a girlie girl. I rarely wear makeup, especially in the summer when my skin has a bit of its own color. I live in jeans. I play horseshoes with Dan (he does give me some grace... otherwise I'd throw my arm out of the socket). I like to play in the dirt. I use power tools. I drink beer (only occasionally!!!)

Today though, I did a very girlie girl thing and enjoyed myself. Imagine that.

This Saturday is my best friend's daughter's wedding. It's supposed to be a blazing hot ninety-two degrees on Saturday and the wedding is out of doors. I have scrounged up a cool thing to wear (hopefully it will be cool cold as well as cool hip) and the outfit involves sandals. This means toes hanging out for all the world to see, so I thought I should spruce things up a bit.

Dan was out of town this afternoon, so since no one was around I poured myself into my bathing suit (horrors!!!) and went and sat out on our deck under the umbrella. The sun blazed down (it's hot today too) while I painted my toenails a lovely shade of reddish rosy pink. I do love to paint you know!

I think I have cute toes (as toes go). Cuter even than the photo I found to accompany this post.

I should do this more often, paint my toe nails. I used to. What happened?

It's a very girlie girl thing to do. I don't know one man who paints his toe nails red.... and I'm glad of that!!! ha!

It's good to stay in touch with our feminine side even when the power tools are ripping through a new project!

"How beautiful you are, my darling! Oh, how beautiful!" Song of Songs 4:1

For the Too Cute File

2006-07-13T08:07:00.000-04:00

I couldn't resist snagging this picture from Hunsford Blog.... it's our eleven day old grand-nephew Seth. How adorable is he? What a mop of hair! I love it!

We go from the miracles in space to the miracle of new life.

This perfect little child... an accident? Not. This intricate human being... descended from a sea squirt? I don't think so. Someone knit this child together from two microscopic cells and it wasn't "Chance". Congratulations to Bob and Jessica!

God is awesome!

How Big Is YOUR God?

2006-07-13T07:05:00.000-04:00

I found this on a friend's blog and it was too cool to not pass along. Did you ever wonder just how big everything is?

I had to shrink this picture of our sun and the planets because it was too big and messed up my margins. Earth is that speck at the tip of the arrow.

In the next picture, Jupiter is about 1 pixel in size. Earth is invisible at this scale.

In this picture the sun is about one pixel in size and Jupiter is invisible.

God is awesome!

Do you feel small and insignificant now?

Well, don't. The coolest part of this, is that the Creator of all this (and more that we've never seen) came to earth personally, and revealed Himself to us through His very presence and through His Word. I know personally the God who created all of this and holds it in place, and He knows me (a mere microscopic speck in the universe). You can know Him too.

This is almost beyond my comprehension.

Come... now is the time to worship.

In "Other" Words Tuesday

2006-07-10T08:51:00.000-04:00

"Once in a while you have to take a break and visit yourself." - Audrey Giorgi

Most women have trouble visiting themselves. Actually, I think people in general have trouble with it, men included. We’re busy. We’re working. We’re serving, cooking, playing, car-pooling, cleaning, teaching, caring for our families, and the list goes on and on. Take a break? Visit ourselves? What's that? Our lives are about activity. We feel good. We feel productive. We feel valuable when we stay busy.

Once in a great while we’ll slow down long enough to visit with someone else, not ourselves of course, perhaps an elderly grandmother. We sit, sip tea, and chat a bit. It’s hard to sit still for that hour though... there is still so much to be done. We make the visit because it’s the right thing to do, but even a quiet visit to grandma can turn into one more duty on our list of accomplishments for the day.

Visiting ourselves? Who does that? Do you mean be quiet? Do nothing? Not in this lifetime! The TV or stereo has to be on, or a book has to be in our hand. A child or this month’s knitting needs to be in our lap. Something! Who wants to just sit and visit themselves? We need to stay busy, fill the voids, and so we end up avoiding ourselves like the plague.

You know, I think the main reason we avoid ourselves is because we don’t like what we find there. We think visiting ourselves means self-examination. And self-examination leads to feeling inadequate because we tend to focus on our faults. We think we’re failures, less-thans, or just plain boring, and so we prefer to stay busy and not deal with what we may find when we visit ourselves. We prefer the bliss of activity to the scary world of solitude.

There is a place for self-examination, but there is also a place for a quiet unjudgemental visit to self. Now that's a unique idea! Maybe I should try it more often. Let’s see… we can visit others without focusing on their faults, we just enjoy their company. Why can’t we do that for ourselves? We enjoy grandma’s wit and stories. We appreciate her bowl of lemon drops. We don’t gripe about her arthritic knees. We don’t judge her harshly because of her unnoticed (because it’s unseen) dust.

The truth is we don’t have to be doing something to be valuable to God. We are valuable just because we are. It's okay to slow down sometimes. He created us to do good works, but if we didn’t do one single work, we’d still be valuable simply because He made us and we are His.

Sometimes it’s good to take a break and visit ourselves. No judging allowed. Make a visit, rest awhile, and practice a merciful acceptance of the precious child of God that you find there in your skin. Remind yourself that you are loved, beyond measure, just for the way you are, not for what you do. Maybe if we’d visit ourselves more often, we’d start to appreciate ourselves a bit more and begin seeing ourselves as God sees us.

"And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." Philippians 4:7

Visit more In "Other" Words writers and read their thoughts on this quote:

In "Other" Words

2006-07-09T15:39:00.000-04:00

Christian Women Online Magazine is starting something new for us bloggers. Each Friday they will post a differnt quote, in hopes that we will be inspired to write down our thoughts about it in our individual blogs. Each Tuesday following they will post links to those who have participated. I'm going to try it..... so look for my In "Other" Words posts on Tuesdays. It will be fun to read how a single quote inspired different bloggers in different ways.

This week's quote is ""Once in a while you have to take a break and visit yourself ." - Audrey Giorgi

You'll have to visit My Breath of Life this coming Tuesday to read what I had to say about that!

Have a great day!

Invasion

2006-07-07T06:54:00.000-04:00

Grandkids. Nothing like them. Sleepy tangled morning hair. Peanut butter and jelly. Dirty bare feet. Cookies before dinner. Getting messy making stuff. Playgrounds. Beach.

We are ready for the invasion. David will have his kids for a month this summer beginning next week. Part of that time he will have to work, so we will get to have fun with the kids while he's slaving away earning a living. They are growing up so fast. I wonder if Honour is getting too old to "play"? Is Silas still camera shy? How has Harmonee changed in this past year? I can't wait to see them.

Brooklynn will come to visit in August and we will see Tommy later that month.

Kids grow up fast and then we are blessed by the arrival of grandkids. Grandkids seem to grow faster than kids. Dan's thirteenth grandchild arrived a few weeks ago! My...... Dan must be old! I love my stepgrandkids too. I don't see them much anymore, but they are always in my prayers.

But these five grandkids..... they are mine. I claim them and they claim me. Their parents claim me too. We can't imagine life without each other and so we are heart linked. It's such a gift to an infertile woman to have kids and grandkids around me. I don't deserve this blessing..... this love and acceptance. I have failed them all in so many ways, and yet the love remains. It's an amazing gift that I don't take for granted.

The youngest two grandkids will call us Nana and Papa. Who would have thought?

I have such admiration and respect for Dan's ex-wife Sandra. She shares her kids and grandkids with me. We each love this same batch of kids. We each pray the same prayers for them. Things could have been much different, but the Spirit of God unites us when the world tries to tear us apart.

Perhaps the evil one had intentions of destroying this family, but the love of God has seen the victory. Forgiveness goes a long way. I sometimes stand in awe. Could I be so forgiving?

This fact remains: God can heal families. God can work all things for good when we let Him, even when it seems impossible.

And so the grandkids come. I will answer the Grandma Ellen calls. Honour and I will solve all of the world's problems across our cups of tea. I will chase Silas with my camera and sneak in a hug when he's not looking. I will dress Barbies with Harmonee. I will try to get a "Nana" out of Brooklynn. We will play in the yard, the sand, the paints. We'll eat peanut butter (no butter please Papa Boda!!!) and I will attempt to snag at least one kid a day for a snuggle and a story.

Dan and I will be dog tired a couple of months from now, but these visits are never long enough. If we die of tiredness, we will die with smiles on our faces.

Thank you Dan, for the children and grandchildren. Thank you Sandra.

Thank you heavenly Father for hearing the deepest cries of my heart. For many long years I thought you weren't listening... but I was wrong.

"I will sing to the Lord, for he has been good to me." Psalm 13:6

Speechless and Surreal

2006-07-01T09:23:00.000-04:00

It’s the morning after and I’m still having trouble believing. The weight of disappointment hangs around like a cloud. We’ll all get over it, but for now, and in fact for forever, nothing can be done to rectify this situation. That is a sad disappointment. It’s a mistake that can’t be fixed.

Dan was speechless.

Yesterday we got up at 6am. Dan’s sister Phebe met us here at the house and the three of us headed for Lansing. It was a beautiful summer’s day. We left at 7:30am and made good time. The graduation of the Daniel G. Boda Jr. Officer Recruit Training Class of the Michigan Department of Corrections (over 100 recruits strong) was scheduled to begin at 1pm. My husband, the guest of honor, the namesake, was in high spirits, calm and cool, as usual. It was going to be a great day.

We arrived in East Lansing at 11:30am and met Dan’s sister Shara. The four of us went and got a bite to eat. We took a tour of where Shara works and changed our clothes. Looking spiffy in our finery, at about 12:15 we left for the auditorium, which was on the southwest side of Lansing, about a 20-minute drive away. Plenty of time.

Dan drove. Shara directed. Phebe and I chatted.

Upon arrival at Hill Auditorium, it became apparent that something was terribly wrong. There was not another car in sight.

We drove around the building to the other side of the school. A few cars were scattered across the parking lot. We went in, wandered the halls, asked the few workers who weren’t out for lunch about a graduation ceremony and received blank looks in return.

We were at the right place; we had the map, nicely highlighted for us, and sent from Lansing months ago.

What was going on?

Did we have the wrong day? The wrong time? We paged our son at home, who was at work, and he drove to our house to look through other odds and ends of paperwork we’d received. We stood outside in the shade at Hill Auditorium waiting for his return call. We paced. We wondered. Finally David called back, “June 30th, 1pm, Hill Auditorium.”

What is wrong here? It’s now past 1pm. Dan called the gentleman who was our liaison in all of this, the manager of the new employee training. We got his voice mail.

Now what?

Finally Dan said, “Let’s drive over to the academy, maybe someone there knows what’s going on.” The academy lies another 15 minutes further to the southwest in Lansing. Fifteen minutes by freeway. Thankfully the traffic going west on the freeway was moving. The eastbound lanes were at a standstill due to construction. After arriving, we girls sat in the car while Dan went in.

What is going on?

Finally Dan returned to the car and we knew.

“They sent me to the wrong place. The graduation is at Kellogg Conference Center.”

Ugh!!!!! The Kellogg Center stands about 5 minutes away from our original meeting place with Shara, near her work, near where we ate lunch!

It is 2pm and we are forced to take surface roads back across town to avoid the traffic jams. Unbelievable. The secretary at the academy had called the Kellogg center. They had been looking for us, thinking we were perhaps in an accident. She said they would wait for our arrival.

We drove like crazy, across town, and into the parking garage. We gathered our things and walked hurriedly into the Center, down the corridor toward the conference rooms, toward a man in a suit looking humble and humiliated. And then the “I’m so sorry’s” began. We followed him to where the graduation ceremony was being held and arrived just in time to see the last 20 or so graduates file out of the room.

We’d missed it. All of it.

A flood of family and well-wishers pushed out through the doors as we attempted to get in behind our escort. They had no clue who we were as we stood patiently waiting for the crowds to thin. Unbelievable. By this time word had spread through the ranks of the men and women in charge that the error was theirs. I have never heard so many “We’re so sorry this happened,” in the span of a few short minutes. We met Patricia Caruso, the Director of the MDOC, appointed by the governor, who had submitted Dan’s name for this honor in the first place. We met other people I don’t know and won't remember. We had our pictures taken. We smiled and we were gracious. They looked forlorn, humble, humiliated.

It was surreal.

The room had cleared quickly. We’d arrived in time for the cake and punch reception, but few of the graduates and their families hung around for that. The director had to leave for a wedding. We heard apology after apology as we ate our cake. No, we’d never gotten notified of the change of venue. No, we’d never received the engraved graduation invitation. No, no, no. Somehow the guest of honor had been overlooked when the venue had been changed a total of three different times. We’d received our original packet of information and directions months ago. There were no follow-up letters, emails or calls.

We drank our punch and picked up a few of the twelve page programs left on the seats. It contains a nice bio of the Honoree (Dan), the order of the program, the names of the graduates and their assignments, information about the Department. I asked if anyone had videotaped the ceremony. It would be nice to have a memento of the proceedings that we missed, the graduation ceremony that was supposed to honor my husband. It would be nice to hear what the director had to say about Dan’s thirty-three years of service to the people of the State of Michigan.

Unbelievable. By 3pm we were back in the parking garage. We declined the offer to take the mounds of extra cake home with us. Unbelievable.

We took it as well as could be expected I guess. On the long ride home we made jokes. We laughed. We shook our heads in disbelief. We tried to pinch ourselves so that we would wake up. No luck. As bad as we felt though, we knew it didn’t compare to how those felt who had messed up. None of us wanted to be walking in their shoes come Monday morning.

But for us, this is a disappointment. And one that cannot be rectified. There is nothing anyone can do to make this right. Dan was speechless. The day was surreal.

But the bigger picture is that the Honoree is still honorable. Dan didn’t get to give his speech yesterday. He didn’t get to challenge these men and women to do their best and make a difference, but that doesn’t change the fact that he made a difference during his career in the Michigan Department of Corrections. He made such a big difference in fact, that a graduating class was named after him 5 years after his retirement, an honor usually not given to front line officers, but reserved for wardens, administrators, and directors.

Yesterday was a let down, but Dan is still Dan. When it comes to his career, he is a Paul. He should have had the opportunity to stand before the new employees of the MDOC and say, “Be like me.” Of course, he wouldn’t have said this, but he could have. He had every right.

So what was the lesson in all of this? Only God knows. We learned more about how to be gracious and merciful during times of stress, that’s for sure. We learned how to smile (me) when we really wanted to strangle someone. We learned more about forgiveness and compassion as we stood and chatted with the men and women who were sorrowful, humiliated, and horrified at their mistake that couldn’t be rectified.

God has all things in his control. He knows the purposes behind this mess and we trust Him with it.

I’m so sorry this happened. I hurt for the missed well-deserved recognition, but it doesn’t in any way diminish the honor that remains. I’m proud of my husband and I love him dearly. We had an adventure yesterday that we won’t soon forget.

Well Dan, you’ve got a great story to tell your grandkids now! The surreal day you were speechless.

“Therefore I urge you to imitate me.” I Corinthians 4:16

Speeches and Slpeling

2006-06-29T06:22:00.000-04:00

Tomorrow is commencement speech day for Dan (see my previous post Namesakes and Manuals). We'll be driving down to Lansing for the day and we will be joined by two of Dan's sisters. The traffic coming back north for the holiday weekend will be horrendous, but that's a small price to pay, and besides, I won't be the one driving! Sorry Dan.

Dan will woo and wow the crowd with his delivery and I will sit quietly in the background where I prefer it. He will punctuate. I will be proud. He will address. I will admire.

I love this simple man. And it's simple in a good way. Unlike me, Dan doesn't waste time in the complex confusing going nowhere world of analytical mumbo jumbo. What you see is what you get with him. He doesn't analyze, he listens. He doesn't flatter, he says what he means and means what he says. He fills rooms with joy and laughter. He's smart, clever, talented, and loyal. He makes mistakes, but he owns up to them. He loves.... God, people, friends, family, grandkids, kids, even me. I've failed him in many ways through the years, but he forgives and I am grateful. It's a privilege to walk beside this man, my husband.

Hey Dan, did you ever know that you're my hero? And everything I'd like to be? Break a leg tomorrow.... I'm so proud of you. I love you.

Dan is good at many things, but English isn't one of them. Spelling? Grammar? Not necessary in his book. Well, he just might be onto something. I received this in email yesterday. Hmmmmmmmm......

Olny srmat poelpe can raed tihs. I cdnuolt blveiee taht I cluod aulaclty uesdnatnrd waht I was rdanieg.

The phaonmneal pweor of the hmuan mnid, aoccdrnig to a rseercah at Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it deosn't mttear in waht oredr the ltteers in a wrod are, the olny iprmoatnt tihng is taht the frsit and lsat lteter be in the rghit pclae. The rset can be a taotl mses and you can sitll raed it wouthit a porbelm.

Tihs is bcuseae the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey lteter by istlef, but the wrod as a wlohe. Amzanig huh? Yaeh, and I awlyas tghuhot slpeling was ipmorantt!

Wow. I actually understood every word of that!

I tnihk I wlil qiut wsaitng my tmie wtih the selpl-ccheker! Hvae a gaert day erevynoe!

This and That

2006-06-27T07:31:00.000-04:00

There's nothing new and exciting around here that I can think of and I'm not really inspired to write any sermonettes today, so you get a bit of this and that. A glimpse into my boring life... lived here in paradise on earth.

I'm starting round two of antibiotics. Ten days of round one earlier this month only made my sinus thing mad. I'm praying this stronger medicine will work so that I can feel normal again. It seems like I've lost the whole month of June to busy stuff and lack of sleep. That is one third of our summer up here! RATS!

We need to buy a digital camera. I am sick of having film developed and only ending up with only a few good shots. It seems the prices are reasonable now. Maybe with a nice camera I will become a photographer and finally find my calling! ha!

We welcomed great-nephew Seth this week.... what a cutie! Wow... "great" aunt and uncle??? That makes us sound OLD!!!!

Okay, I set a new record for myself yesterday and went to Walmart four times in one day. Ugh!!!!! Actually, it wasn't my fault. I was dinking around with a church project and had to keep going back to price things, look for things, purchase things, order things, pick up things. I did forget to pick up milk for us on my last trip. Ugh. I made Dan go back for it..... five times to Walmart in one day was beyond my limit.

I have given up on posting an audio post of Brooklynn talking on the phone... hint hint. She is probably bored it with by now. You'll have to take my word for it that it was adorable. I've never seen a youngster like to talk on the phone like she does! So cute!

Speaking of cute, Olivia is the cutest cat in the world (except when she jumps up by my head in the middle of the night... which happened two nights ago and she got spanked). She knows when I'm talking about her and she rolls over onto her back all cute-like and squinty eyed. I think she's starting to worship the ground I walk on (when she feels like it of course).

It's dry as a bone around here. Any rain on the horizon keeps missing our county. The grass is a crunchy shade of yellow. Which actually can be a good thing because it saves on gas for mowing, but I do prefer green for summer. I've been sprinkling the garden, trying to get it to grow, but it's looking a bit droopy. Our corn, instead of knee high by the 4th of July, will be ankle high..... if we're lucky.

God is good... but you already knew that. (I hope)

Guess that's all the news for today. Have a good one!

A New View

2006-06-22T13:49:00.000-04:00

The chainsaws are still humming as I type. It’s been five hours now. Today is both a sad and happy day.

We live next door to a Headstart preschool. Well, not quite next door. Between our property and the school lies an undeveloped lot. A house used to be there, but it burned down long before our time. The owner of the empty lot lives somewhere else in town. He comes to mow it occasionally, but otherwise the trees and vegetation have been left to grow without hindrance.

Last week, Dan and I were enjoying a pleasant evening at home. The windows and doors were open and we were busy doing what we normally do, which is nothing. It was late into the evening, at almost dark, when we heard a crack, whooooossssshhhh, and thud. We both jumped up. “What was that?” Peering into the dusky yard, we saw that a tree had fallen from the vacant lot across the preschool’s play yard. There was barely a hint of breeze, and yet the tree had fallen.

Thankfully, school was not in session at the time.

It was one of those ugly scraggly grows at an angle trees and it just broke off from the rest of the trunk, down near the ground. There’s some debate as to what these trees are, perhaps Box Elders. We have a few in our yard and they are pretty much worthless trees and very dirty.

Anyway, today the tree removal service showed up early in the morning and the lot next door to us is being cleared of most of its trees. Many were dangerous and ugly and a few were even dead. The workers seem to be leaving the nice maple at the corner of our property, the black locust that perfumes our yard with its flowers every Spring, and other valuable trees, so they are not cutting indiscriminately.

The bucket man flits from branch to branch like a bird. Sawdust falls from the sky in great drifts. Men in orange hard hats duck, dodge, and drag the fallen branches to the chipper, which has eaten both breakfast and lunch by now, and has made short work of logs larger than children. While the chipper crunches through its afternoon snack, the men earn their livings without a doubt. We haven’t seen this much activity in our neighborhood in years. The air is scented with the tang of fresh cut wood and if not for the all-deafening noise, the activity just beyond our deck would be an enjoyable theatrical presentation.

I am sad though to see any tree fall. What took years to grow is gone in a few short hours. Perhaps birds and squirrels, which we enjoy feeding, have lost their homes. It’s a sad day in the neighborhood.

But it’s also a happy day. The children will be safe. Their safety is what is most important. But beyond that, the lack of trees next door is opening up the view and letting the sunshine into our yard. Gardens that used to be in shade for the better part of the day will now be in sun. That means I can grow more things and our grass will be thicker. We can now see half way down the street from our perches on the deck. It will be like we’ve moved into a new house including new sights to see, without the hassle of packing!

I am sad for the loss of life, tree life though it is, but the fact remains that there are times when our yards need a good cleaning. Just like in our homes and personal lives, there comes a day when we need to take stock of things. We need to prune away the dangerous growth, the ugly things in our lives, to make room for the work that God wants to do in us. It’s good to let the sun create new growth and it’s good to let the Son shine into places where only shadows used to be.

We prune the trees. We organize our closets. We clean up our act.

I’ll put out a special treat for the squirrels and birds once the trucks have driven away and the quiet returns to our yard.

“See, I am doing a new thing. Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland. “ Isaiah 43:19

“The ax is already at the root of the trees, and every tree that does not produce good fruit will be cut down and thrown into the fire. “ Luke 3:9

Death

2006-06-19T07:49:00.000-04:00

I recently read a sentence that has stuck with me and made a big impact.

One sentence.

Wow, it must be pretty profound.

It's about death and dying. When it comes to death and dying, I don't look forward to the dying part, but I'm really not afraid to be dead. I know where I am going and I have a strong faith. What I fear more is the losing. I fear being the one who remains and feels the loss and the grief.

I don't like pain.

I feel for the losers. I feel for those of whom it is said, "She lost her husband last year. He lost his daughter. They've both lost their parents."

The sentence I read somewhere, the sentence I love, is this:

Can you really lose something (or someone) if you know where they are?

Oh! Rejoicing! How true!

I lose my keys, the remote, my place in a book..... but if I, in fact, know where they are, then they are not lost to me. We are merely separated from each other.
Temporarily.

Oh that everyone I know and love would have assurance of heaven! Oh that everyone I know and love would have made their peace with Jesus and placed their trust in Him!

Then, when I grieve, there would be no losing, because I would know where they are for eternity. Someday I will go to them and the separations will be over. There will be a period of grieving, but there will be no one lost to me.

Was he married? "Yes, but his wife went to heaven last year."

Does she have children? "Yes, one waiting for her in heaven."

It seems like word play, but the truth is, we cannot lose what we haven't lost.

Let it sink in for awhile.

Can we really say we've "lost" someone if we know where they are?

"Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?" 1 Cor. 15:55

Master Gardener and Me

2006-06-17T07:44:00.000-04:00

There is nothing--no circumstance, no trouble, no testing--that can ever touch me until, first of all, it has gone past God and past Christ right through to me. If it has come that far, it has come with a great purpose, which I may not understand at the moment. But as I refuse to become panicky, as I lift up my eyes to Him and accept it as coming from the throne of God for some great purpose of blessing to my own heart, no sorrow will ever disturb me, no circumstance will cause me to fret, for I shall rest in the joy of what my Lord is--that is the rest of victory! --Alan Redpath, former pastor of Moody Church

Hmmmmm..... I am still learning how to do this, how to believe this. I still tend to panic at times and gaze toward heaven with the "Hello God! Are you paying attention?!?!" prayer on my lips.

But even with that said, I am getting better at my believing. Sometimes bad things happen, but there is always a purpose. My job is to find that purpose if I can, and if not, just trust. Perhaps this is what maturity is all about.

The good things in life may water my garden of faith, but the bad things have the potential to act as the jolt of fertilizer which wakes up my sleepy garden. The bad things can become the Miracle Grow in our life of faith. Water and sun are pleasant and necessary, but if we want big juicy fruits and vegetables, a bit of caustic fertilizer is just the thing.

What am I talking about?

How did I get here, from "all my circumstances passing through the hand of God"?

Perhaps I need to go weed the garden today... Miracle Grow and weeds is a bad combination! Perhaps I need to get the weeds out before the next jolt of fertilizer hits the soil.

We tend our faith... our garden. We plant, we water, we weed. But God alone makes things grow. We can rest in the knowledge that whatever comes our way, it has passed through his loving hand first. He is growing us into the likeness of his Son and He provides what is necessary to grow us into those people.

"For as the soil makes the sprout come up and a garden causes seeds to grow, so the Sovereign Lord will make righteousness and praise spring up before all nations." Isaiah 61:11

Don't Mess With Me

2006-06-16T06:32:00.000-04:00

Oh, to be brave.....

Oh, to be fearless......

Oh, to be like a cat.

What?

What cat?

This cat.

Click on THIS CAT to read all about it.

Subtitle of this post: Taking Life Number Nine Into One's Paws.

Don't mess with this garden you big old bear! These beans are for the family!!!!

Jack the cat: my hero.

Cutesy

2006-06-15T15:22:00.000-04:00

As promised, here are a few pictures of the Butterfly Garden Daycare painting project. It's a bit weird to post these because I feel like I'm bragging or something, but it turned out so cute, I want to share. Besides, I give all the credit to God. He is the one who bestows our gifts and talents and He is the one who has provided me these opportunities. I am truly thankful.

I am a "cutesy" kind of painter, so I fit right in with painting a daycare's playroom. It was a lot of fun.

The path was going to be brown dirt, but that just didn't look good, so we ended up with a grass path. Much better looking!

My little friend Henry thought the big tree in the corner should be an apple tree. That wasn't in the plan, but I "hung" an apple in the tree with a painted string just for fun and just for Henry. He liked that.

Some of the older daycare kids helped me paint the flowers closest to the slider (to the right of the big tree looking a this picture). We had fun in our crazy flower garden..... swirls, polka dots, and crazy flowers that even God never imagined!

The sun will always be shining in this garden! I'm pretty sure that the carpet has been laid by now and the little ones are enjoying their new playroom.

"To our God and Father be glory for ever and ever. Amen." Philippians 4:20

SonTreasure Island

2006-06-12T06:47:00.000-04:00

It's off to Vacation Bible School this week. Our craft center is ready. The markers and crayons are lined up. The glue is oozing. This year we will be playing with birdseed, sponges, sequins, and sand that smells like coconut. We will draw. We will paint. We will be building sandcastles that last and we will learn that God's love is kind, giving, caring, forgiving, and lasts forever.

Pray for the children. And pray for us old folks!

What's In A Name?

2006-06-10T07:50:00.000-04:00

Olivia has been accumulating names since she came to live with us.

Her "full" name (so far) is Olivia Victoria Peanut Punkin Boo Sarah Angelica Two-socks. She has also been called Livie, Sweetie, Kitty, and other names which won't be mentioned here! Every name she's been given relates to her character, or at least has some sort of meaning behind it. Olivia means "peace" and we were seeking peace after losing our cat Luke. Victoria is because she thinks someone died and left her queen. Peanut is because she was once cute like a peanut..... now she's more like her fourth name..... a pumpkin! Dan gave her the name Boo. I don't know if that was because she was scary or scared! Probably both at times. Sarah is after the dinosaur in Land Before Time... talkative outspoken and always getting herself into trouble. Angelica is because I still needed an angel after we lost our cat Gabriel. Two-socks is because Dan thinks she has two socks (sort of) and it kind of sounds like an Indian name.

Olivia is a special cat and she has special names to show for it.

God has a lot of names too. More names than I can recount here.

"And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace." Isaiah 9:6

His names speak of his character. His exceptional nature.

And what kind of names do people give me?

When people hear my name, what do they think of? When people get to know me and they tack on names and descriptions to my given name, how does it read? Like it or not, we all make an impact, for the good or for the bad. Our parents might name us in the beginning, but we also make a name for ourselves.

"A good name is more desirable than great riches; to be esteemed is better than silver or gold." Proverbs 22:1

What's in a name?

More than we would like to admit at times.

Our names and reputations precede us and linger on long after we've gone.

And how do we acquire a good name? It's not all that difficult. It has to do with two simple words: love and faithfulness.

"Let love and faithfulness never leave you; bind them around your neck, write them on the tablet of your heart. Then you will win favor and a good name in the sight of God and man." Proverbs 3:3-4

Livie..... our royal fat scary talkative Indian princess peanut angel...... what name will we add to you next week?

And what names will people be adding to me?

Jordan Has A Shower

2006-06-09T06:45:00.000-04:00

I'm hosting a bridal shower tonight for my friend's daughter. There is a bit of anxiety, but that's only because I'm more of a superbowl party person than a girly girl bridal shower person. Having this party did give me an excuse to dig out my grandma's napkins and silverplate, so that's kind of fun. I'm sure everything will go well. The punch is chilling. The cake is ordered. The activities are planned. The prizes are packaged. What else is there?

Kitty Olivia had fun "helping" me decorate. She is not allowed on tables, and she knows this. She is quite good about it (at least while we are awake!) Yesterday was too much temptation for her though. I hung curly ribbon streamers over the food and gift tables. Of course, that looked to her like a kitty playground. After numerous scoldings and a quick swallow of one yellow curl (alas), she finally gave up. This morning the streamers are still fluttering in the breeze, so the party remains a "GO".

Happy bridal shower to Jordan! May you enjoy being showered with gifts tonight. May the Lord bless you and Curtis all the days of your life together. May you find in each other that "little haven of refuge from the world, where you can be sure of being admired when you are not praiseworthy" (B Russell).

"You have stolen my heart, my sister, my bride; you have stolen my heart with one glance of your eyes, with one jewel of your necklace." Song of Songs 4:9

A Time For Rest

2006-06-08T07:54:00.000-04:00

Think on this:

"Only let us live up to what we have already attained." Philippians 3:16

Sometimes the Christian life is a struggle. I do what I don't want to do. I don't do what I know I should. And sometimes I feel stuck in the second half of Philippians 3:10. How convenient that we often skip over the second half of this verse!

"I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death." Philippians 3:10

We all want the power of his resurrection, but how many of us embrace the prospect of sharing in his sufferings?

The Christian life is work. It involves discipline and training. Forgetting what is behind we press on. It's important to stay devoted.

BUT, God provides rest for the weary. The Christian life is not simply about a never ending search for truth. Christ's provision provides relief and assurance for us when we feel overburdened with the task of living out our faith.

"All of us who are mature should take such a view of things. And if on some point you think differently, that too God will make clear to you. Only let us live up to what we have already attained." Philippians 3:15-16

There will always be more to learn. Maturity comes when we learn to rest in the work of Jesus. His provision shouldn't be an excuse for our lack of devotion, but we need to accept God's provision for what it is. Sometimes we are in need of rest. The Lord knows this, and so he sets the standard at simply asking us to act on the guidance which we have already received.

We know some things. We believe some things. We trust in some things to be true. The instruction is for us to live up to what we already know. There is a place for rest in our Christian lives. There is a time to let go of the seeking and simply live up to what we already know.

God will reveal more to us when the time is right.

I can rest in Him.

It's not about what I know, what I learn, what I can muster up. It's not about what I accomplish for Him. It's not all about straining, pressing, winning.....

What it's about is simply this:

IT'S ABOUT HIM.

I can rest in that.

To Boat Or Not To Boat

2006-06-05T07:56:00.000-04:00

Yesterday was another beautiful day in Northern Michigan... JAPDIP in fact (just another perfect day in paradise)!

After church in the morning we went to a graduation open house for one of Dan's football players. Eric's home is situated on the Straits of Mackinac, so we chowed on the spread of food fit for a king while we enjoyed the views. Gorgeous!

We went back to church in the evening and settled into our chairs, looking forward to learning something from the life of Elijah. Pastor Carl was preparing to get started and he mentioned what a beautiful day it had been. He thanked us all for coming even though he was sure the lovely weather had caused us to think twice about returning to church that evening.

From the seat beside me came these words, "We don't have boats."

Everyone cracked up. Dan, you are too funny. That was a good one!

I am not one to think that church members necessarily need to be at the church every time the doors are open, but it's always a good idea to reassess our priorities every once in awhile. Not every opportunity is for every person, but we all should have our spiritual growth at the top of our priority list. Do we regularly take advantage of opportunities to learn and opportunities to gather together for fellowship?

It's important to not neglect the Word, the Body, and Prayer during our active summer months. God shouldn't be put on the shelf and only brought out when the storm windows are buttoned up for the winter.

Our church has a tradition of making Sunday evenings fun family times during the summer. We don't put the Word on a shelf, but we take some time to play together. I appreciate that.

Happy summer everyone! But remember, boat or no boat, your church family needs you!

New Juicy Colors

2006-06-03T09:21:00.000-04:00

Things were looking a little drab and boring around here. I thought things needed to be brighter. I wanted to juice things up a bit, so I changed my background color.

What do you think?

I think the new look of my blog reminds me of watermelon.

That's pretty juicy!

I must say.... painting my blog is much less taxing than painting in real life! No sore muscles.

Cute Stuff

2006-05-31T20:08:00.000-04:00

Okay..... I'm on "It's so cute it's nauseating" overload.

I found these cute sites while surfing. The first one is called "Baby Vs. Baby. Two pictures will pop up and you vote for the cutest baby by clicking on the baby's picture. The site will then tell you how many others thought that baby was the cutest. You can also check out the winningest babies etc.

Okay, I admit it..... thanks to all the photos we have compliments of Brooklynn's Grandma Gardner, I've sent in Brooklynn's picture and she is waiting to be approved. If she pops up on your screen, you'd better vote for her... or else!!!

(Danielle: We are lacking in cute Tommy pictures, so if you have a cute one, be sure to post it!)

The next site is Kitten War. Same premise, only cats. I haven't gotten Olivia uploaded yet, but she certainly should be popular don't you think???!!! (This is not a photo of her, this is just a cute kitten). Watch out Olivia, you have competition!

The final site is Things That Make You Go AAHH.com. Cute photos of animals and stuff.

Enjoy!

I've also posted these links down on my side bar for the next time you are bored and looking for entertainment. Look for "Cute Stuff" under More Good Reading.

And speaking of cute stuff..... my side bar is getting full of cute stuff... have you noticed? I'm just a decorator I guess.

Have a blessed day!

Oh, by the way.... no use leaving a comment about baby beauty contests etc. being horrible. ALL babies are cute! Some are cuter than others by our limited human sight, but each is created in the image of God and is precious and valuable, just because they exist. This is just for fun. It's for the cute factor, more than the competition.

The Girl In The Mirror

2006-05-31T07:44:00.000-04:00

I look in the mirror and I see the age creeping into my face. I think I need better lighting in my bathroom! ha!

How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are! The reason the world does not know us is that it did not know him. Dear friends, now we are children of God, and what we will be has not yet been made known. But we know that when he appears, we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is. Everyone who has this hope in him purifies himself, just as he is pure. 1 John 3:1-3

Who we are: God's children.

Who we are becoming: reflections of God.

I can't decide which truth is more amazing!

I may be "middle-aged", but I'm still a child.

My outside may be changing and getting "worse", but I prefer to think of it as getting more character in my face... I've earned all of these lines!!!

Hopefully my inside is changing too, but only for the better!

I want to be like Him.

This and That

2006-05-30T08:41:00.000-04:00

It's a warm morning, and humid. We've been waiting for this weather and I'm thankful!

Dan is off on a three day outing with a group of 5th and 6th graders. They are traveling up to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan and then on to Canada, visiting history along the way. Poor man was dragging his feet a bit yesterday and today about it all, but he'll come around and I know there will be lots of stories to be told once he returns.

Me.... I am going to catch up on household stuff today and attempt to finish my Butterfly Garden daycare mural later in the week.

Life is busy. God is good.

Praise

2006-05-28T08:35:00.000-04:00

I can do everything

through him

who gives me

strength.

Philippians 4:13

That's all I have to say for today.

The Gift of a Butterfly Garden

2006-05-25T10:00:00.000-04:00

I'm back at it. Paintbrush in hand, my knees complain, but my heart rejoices.

My friend, Katie, runs a daycare out of her home. I know I must be getting old because Katie used to be a teen in the youth group my husband and I led at our former church. Katie is now mother to five: 3 stepsons, 1 son, and another child on the way. On top of caring for her family, she also runs this daycare center. I don't know how she does it.

Anyway, Katie and her husband are in the process of converting their attached garage into Katie's daycare center. It's a big garage and will make an excellent playroom. There are lots of windows now and a sliding glass door to let in the light. Katie asked me a couple of months ago if I would be available and willing to decorate the walls when they got to that point in the project.

Rejoicing! Katie's daycare is called "Butterfly Garden". The name of the daycare has dictated the wall design, of course. I am having great fun. Extra ibuprofen in the evenings is a small price to pay for this opportunity to be creative.

In this past year I've painted (with help) the nursery at our church, and now through that and another project, I am blessed with the opportunity to paint Katie's daycare center. God is good. Being the creative sort, I always dreamed of how I might decorate my child's nursery. That dream died along with many others when I was unable to conceive, but God is generous and gracious, and is now allowing me to fulfill many of my long ago dreams.

Perhaps this path of childlessness is not one I would have chosen for myself, but there is joy to be found here. A kind and loving Father gives me gifts along the way that I never expected to receive.

I praise Him.

(And I will post pictures someday when I am done painting)

"If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him?" Matthew 7:11

Perspective

2006-05-24T07:42:00.000-04:00

And you thought YOU were having a bad day!?!?

Closing The Book

2006-05-23T09:13:00.000-04:00

Our pastor has been preaching a series on Jacob’s family including Joseph and his brothers. You know, the coat of many colors guy. What a blessing these messages have been! I love to study the messed up families in God’s Word. It gives me hope! Ha!

This past Sunday we finally got to the part where Joseph is faced with the task (or opportunity) to forgive his brothers for wanting to kill him and selling him into slavery.

Forgiveness. I find this to be the hardest part of being a believer. Maybe it’s just the hardest part of being a human. It’s hard to forgive when we’ve been hurt. How exactly do we do it? Maybe we should take lessons from our dogs. They don’t seem to have any trouble forgiving us! Obviously little things are easier to forgive than big things, but there must be a way to do it, otherwise we wouldn't be commanded to forgive those who trespass against us.

I am somewhat successful in the forgiveness department after years of practice, but I always appreciate new advice. There will always be someone else to forgive, because all people are just like me, imperfect and fallible. I get hurt. I like to learn new tips about how to live out my faith in practical ways. It’s helpful to learn new methods of working through the process.

Anyway, Carl’s message spoke on the past, present, and future of forgiveness, but the analogy I liked most was in his thoughts about the past. His thought was of “closing the book”. We need to learn how to put the offense in the past where it belongs. Closing the book is not like sweeping things under the rug or pretending they didn’t happen or don’t matter. We can’t forget, the book has been written and read, but we certainly can choose to put the book down, or on the shelf, instead of reading it over and over again.

Honestly, there are times when I am bad at this. I have a hard day. I’m tired. I plop down in my bog and pick up the same old book and read it over and over again. Poor me. As was so eloquently pointed out to us on Sunday morning, when I insist on rereading the books of the past, I get stuck there. There is no time to enjoy the present, no future to anticipate.

When I struggle with how to lay something down, how to “give it to God”, I am going to remember this thought about closing the book. Somehow it gives validation to my hurt while still giving me a means of escaping the past. The book exists, but I can choose to put it down.

The first step to forgiveness: choosing to close the book. When I recognize myself picking up the book of a past offense, I need to immediately put it down and live in the present. Do I really want to read this again? Do I think that my reading it again changes anything? Is the person who hurt me affected at all by my endless reading? No. And besides, do I really want this person who offended me to suffer when it’s been so long after the fact? Or am I hoping they have found their peace with God, just like I do when I sin against others? That is what is happening now. Where are we both before God right now? What is my desire right now? Like we were reminded on Sunday, no person is the sum of the worst things they have done. We all do well. We all do wrong. I need to live in reality. No one is perfect. Yes I have been hurt. But that was then. What about now?

Note to self: Put the book down. Embrace the joys of the present. Allow today’s blessings to pave the road to a brighter future. Who knows, but that God allowed evil in order to accomplish His will in other areas. The future may not always hold the happy ending that the story of Joseph and his brothers enjoyed, but then again… it just might, if we will forgive and allow God to work.

Thank you Pastor Carl!

“And now, do not be distressed and do not be angry with yourselves for selling me here, because it was to save lives that God sent me ahead of you. You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives.” Genesis 45:5, 50:20

Where Oh Where Is The Sun?

2006-05-21T15:02:00.000-04:00

It's been raining here for it seems like weeks. I would love to see if I could make some of this bacon! ha! But alas... another cold and blustery day. We get a peek of sunshine at best. I want SUMMER!

My Turn To Keep Watch

2006-05-21T06:17:00.000-04:00

I love my kitty, but there are days when she would lose a life or two were it not for my bent toward pacifism.

It's Sunday morning. It's six o'clock on a Sunday morning. The sun has barely risen and it's a cloudy, windy, and brisk thirty-seven degrees outside my window. If I were still sleeping, I wouldn't know these things. No one should be up at this hour. I don't think I should be up.

Olivia thought I should be up however.

On most days, she jumps up on the bed sometime during the night and curls up quietly by my feet. I don't even know she's there until morning.

But, days like today are different. She jumps up on the bed by my head. She reaches over and tinkles things on my night stand. She swishes her tail across my face. She plays footsie under my pillow. She jumps up to the headboard that is too narrow for her to balance on and falls with a claws-out-for-dear-life thud, half on and half off of my head. I push her to the floor in between antics and pleas for peace, but she persists.

And then, finally, after a good half hour of this, I am hopelessly awake (sort of). There is no use trying to fall back asleep. Daylight is creeping in. I need to use the bathroom. A cup of fresh ground coffee sounds good.

We weave our way to the bathroom and to the kitchen, my naughty kitty and me. She purrs loudly. I mumble.

I settle here in the den to sip my eight o'clock coffee long before its time. I pray, watch the birds wake up outside in the yard, and catch up on blog reading.

I'm really not a morning person.

And then the realization comes. All is quiet and I am alone. Olivia has disappeared. She has no doubt found a secret hideaway, probably burrowed under covers somewhere. She will sleep soundly now for hours.

I am up and keeping watch.

Hmmmmm.

Don't Mess With A Kid!

2006-05-17T17:52:00.000-04:00

First some words from the Lord:

“I tell you the truth, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.” Mark 10:15

I came across a couple of cute and funny stories today. The stories were not written by me. The morals: Don’t mess with the faith of child! As grown-up reasonable adults, it’s normal to question and doubt at times, but accepting things on faith is really the only answer to calm our fears and quiet our questions. Be a kid… the King’s kid today… and don’t ever apologize for a childlike faith! We are the children. God is our Father. He can be trusted.

Story #1:

A little girl was talking to her teacher about whales.

The teacher said it was physically impossible for a whale to swallow a human because even though it was a very large mammal its throat was very small.
The little girl stated that a whale swallowed Jonah.
Irritated, the teacher reiterated that a whale could not swallow a human;

it was physically impossible.
The little girl said, “When I get to heaven I will ask Jonah.”
The teacher asked, “What if Jonah went to hell?”
The little girl replied, “Then you ask him.”

Story #2:

A kindergarten teacher was observing her class of children while they were drawing.

She would occasionally walk around to see each child’s work.
As she got to one little girl who was working diligently, she asked what the drawing was.
The girl replied, “I’m drawing God.”
The teacher paused and said, “But no one knows what God looks like.”
Without missing a beat or looking up from her drawing, the girl replied, “They will in a minute.”

Serenity

2006-05-17T07:47:00.000-04:00

I never realized that the "Serenity Prayer" had more to it. I've only heard the first part. The second part contains some good stuff.....

The Serenity Prayer

God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.
Living one day at a time;
Enjoying one moment at a time;
Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace;
Taking, as He did, this sinful world
as it is, not as I would have it;
Trusting that He will make all things right
if I surrender to His Will;
That I may be reasonably happy in this life
and supremely happy with Him
Forever in the next.
Amen.

There's More Than One Way To Swallow!

2006-05-13T09:32:00.000-04:00

Last evening we drove down to our beach front park to eat our Dairy Queens. Friday night ice cream is becoming a tradition. Dan gets a small cone, I get a small cone dipped in butterscotch and my sister-in-law Phebe, when she's with us, gets a small cone dipped in chocolate.

We normally stay parked by the Dairy Queen and watch the Main Street traffic for entertainment. People are out walking their dogs, baggy panted teens are hanging out in Washington park across the street or driving the Main Street strip in their daddy's cars. We watch the people and make funny observations in between licks. People watching is great entertainment.

But it's been cold and rainy here recently, so last night the Main Street activity was slow. There wasn't much to see and besides, someone else was parked in our front row seat. How rude! Ha! Dan decided to drive us down to the water where we could gaze out over Lake Huron and the Straits of Mackinac for a change of pace while we plumped out on our soft serve.

Once we arrived at the beach, we enjoyed quite an aerial show. The clouds of gnats or fish flies or whatever you call them that usually are everywhere this time of year down by the water, had been replaced with clouds of tree swallows. Hundreds of them were all along the shore. They skimmed the water then swooped through the air from the cattail marsh to the bathing beach. There were so many of them, I was surprised that there weren't any mid air collisions.

I'm sure the swallows were feasting on bugs too small too see, filling up before nesting and setting to their task of raising the next generation. Purple backs and white bellies flashed even in the dreary evening haze.

Dan checked out the passing freighters with binoculars.

I tried to follow the flight of one bird along the shore from north to south, but lost him in the traffic.

We licked, we crunched, we SWALLOWED......and then we headed for home.

All is well in our world.

"How lovely is your dwelling place, O Lord Almighty. Even the sparrow has found a home, and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may have her young - a place near your altar, Oh Lord Almighty, my King and my God. Blessed are those who dwell in your house; they are ever praising you." Psalm 84:1,3,4

How To Waste An Afternoon

2006-05-11T15:05:00.000-04:00

It's been cool, windy, dark and rainy today. It was either sleep all day or play on the computer (because I just didn't feel like cleaning).... so I did some decorating on my blog and Dan's.

Sometimes it just feels good to do nothing.