Guinea Pig Questions

If our guinea pigs could talk, they would probably ask us these questions:

1. Why can't we have a treat every time you open the refrigerator?

2. Why do you frighten us by taking us out of our cages once a week?

3. Why do you hold us down and cut our nails when we hate this?

4. The boys would ask, why can't we play with the girls?

5. Why can't we roam free outdoors?

6. Why were we packed into a dark, scary box and taken to the vet who hurt us with a needle?

If we could talk to them, we might say, "You guinea pigs know nothing about nutrition, hygiene, reproduction, safety, or health." But they would not understand our answers, so we don't try to explain. They are animals with limited brain function. How could they begin to understand our lives? How could we explain reading or driving or cooking or any of the many tasks we do every day? We are so different from them, even though humans and guinea pigs are both mammals. If we could actually speak to them, we might simply say, "Trust us. We care for you."

Humans are made in the image of God, but still, we are very different from God and limited in our understanding of his ways. Even so, we continually question him. This questioning has been going on for a long time. Job in his suffering asked many questions. "Why wasn't I born dead?" "Why give light to those in misery, and life to those who are bitter?" "Isn't calamity for the unrighteous and disaster for the workers of iniquity?" Basically, "Why am I suffering?"

Habakkuk lived while the Babylonians were wreaking havoc on his land. He questioned God, "How long will I cry for help and you will not hear?" "Must I forever see these evil deeds? Why must I watch all this misery?" "Why are you silent while the wicked swallow up people more righteous than they?" The real questions we have are, "Is God just? Does he care?"

How did God respond to these questions and does God mind if we ask him questions? If you read the conclusion to Job and to Habakkuk, God really doesn't answer with specifics. He answers Job with a question, "Who is this that questions my wisdom with such ignorant words?" followed by many other questions that tell us simply that God is God and we are not. He says Job doesn't know what he's talking about. God tells Habakkuk to wait patiently and it will all work out in the end. He would get an answer in time.

I don't think God minds our honest questions as long as we accept his answers. A couple of people asked Jesus, "What must I do to inherit eternal life?" Jesus had one man quote the Law. This man said, "Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind, and love your neighbor as yourself." He then asked Jesus, "Who is my neighbor?" Jesus told the story of the Good Samaritan. The man didn't expect that answer. He didn't want to love people like that.

The other one who asked this question was the rich young ruler. Jesus told him to sell all that he had and give to the poor and then to come and follow him. This man didn't want to hear that answer. He thought Jesus would commend him for his good works. So if we ask the questions, we need to be ready for the answers. And when we don't understand or when God is silent, we just trust him.

Jesus asked a very human question. "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" God did not answer at that moment. But God promises never to forsake us. He is not indifferent to suffering. He can be trusted. Someday we might know the answers to the hard questions.

Maybe more important than our questions is how we respond to Jesus' questions. He asked Peter, "Who do you say that I am?" At Lazarus's death, Jesus said to Martha, "I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me shall live even if he dies, and everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die. Do you believe this?"

Will you answer as Peter and Martha did?

Garden Therapy

I have been very discouraged lately. Last week was one of the most stressful weeks I've had in a long time with too many things to do. The girls were getting ready for their fashion show and I was getting their portfolios ready to take to the evaluator and all this activity seemed so trivial in light of the suffering of beloved people.

Fred is overwhelmed at work and exhausted because he gets little sleep. He always keeps the garden so neat, never a weed in sight, every row of vegetables so orderly. But he can't keep up and I know it really bothers him that he can't do it all. Since I get up early, I have been going out to weed. Yes, we all enjoy the garden, but it has been mostly Fred's project in the past. The girls and I help to plant and we harvest, but the maintenance has always been Fred's job.

The first day I did the bean rows. The eastern sun rose golden, and the gnats were still asleep. Birds dove and flew from tree to tree, calling out loudly to others. Furry bees visited the lavender. The sound of the woodpeckers echoed through the woods, drowning out the humming of the morning traffic in the distance. The earth was moist from earlier rain and the weeds came out easily. The work calmed my heart. I would like to say I used this time for fervent prayer, but communion with God was not in a verbal sense. I enjoyed just being at this spot in this moment of time.

The next day I did the tomatoes and eggplants and peppers. Blossoms everywhere! Are they early this year or is time flying by? It seems we just planted this garden. I worked until the gnats arrived. A baby rabbit emerged from the hedges and nibbled tentatively at bird seed below the feeder. Hide, baby, hide! Hawks soar nearby. But he is safe for now. Again, peace came to my soul. I am grateful for life, for strength to dig and pull. God also "walked in the garden in the cool of the day." I share that with him.

This morning we met with the evaluator. I couldn't work early but went out at dusk to weed the lettuce and radishes and spinach. No gnats! Just peace...and quiet. The birds returned to their perches in the bamboo, settling in for the night. The lights in our windows came on as my family also settled in after a busy day. Our little plants are strong and healthy, not an insect in sight to plague them. They will produce an abundance of nutritious food for us. Blazing sun in July will threaten to burn them and violent thunderstorms will beat them down. But they will survive.

How Beautiful

How beautiful the feet that bring,
The sound of good news and the love of the King,
How beautiful the hands that serve,
The wine and the bread and the sons of the Earth,
How beautiful, how beautiful, how beautiful is the body of Christ.

Do you know that old Twila Paris song? It has been running through my head lately as I grieve for my good friend J who is suffering from ovarian cancer. Less than two months ago doctors discovered a tumor and she had major surgery. In five weeks time the tumor grew back and she is now in hospice care.

Our church was offering a women's Bible study, only six weeks long, on Wednesday mornings. Years ago I was very involved in Bible studies, but with homeschooling my children, it just got to be too much and I retired. One of the classes seemed to be valuable to me at this time though--a video series called "When Life Is Hard" by James MacDonald. This man did a series of teachings while he was suffering from cancer. I thought maybe I could gain insight into how to help J through her suffering. But then I decided not to go. I didn't think I could take the stress of a long morning commute in all that traffic when I was trying to finish school with the girls.

But then someone asked if my girls could help with childcare for the moms during these six-week studies. Then I knew I had to go. It was appointed for me to be there. My friend J had just had surgery or I would have asked her to join me. At the very first meeting, the women went around the table and introduced themselves and said why they were there. Our table leader started. She said several years ago she was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. I was so startled, my mouth flew open. I had randomly chosen that table to sit down and here was this woman who had suffered just as my friend was now.

After J came home, I showed her my books and shared some insight I heard at our first meeting. She said, "I wish I could come." Yes, I wish she could too. But she was very weak and recovering from major surgery. A couple of days later she said again how she wanted to come. I didn't see how she could go out all morning when she was in so much pain and discomfort. So finally she flat out asked if she could go with me. Of course! So for three weeks I picked her up and took her to class. As they are in all the Bible studies I've ever been to, the women were gracious and kind. They listened to J and offered their support. Our table leader especially understood her fear and concerns and made a connection with her.

Then J got bad news. A scan showed her tumor was back, more aggressive than ever. She was admitted to the hospital. J would not return to class. The next week I came without her and these beautiful women, who didn't even know J before this time, prayed heartfelt prayers with tears for her. They wrote precious messages for me to give to her. They offered any kind of help she might need. How tender their hearts are for J. How beautiful! The body of Christ. The class is over now, but the women have not forgotten. They continually ask about J.

"If one member suffers, all suffer together; if one member is honored, all rejoice together. Now you are the body of Christ and individually members of it." I Corinthians 12:26.

Perspective

I've been discouraged lately. Suffering surrounds us. Is this what happens at my age? Fred and I have each lost a sister and my best friend from junior high lost her brother recently. Several friends have cancer and another friend's child is breaking her heart. Our parents are getting old and may not be long in this world. How do we survive this stage of life with all its sadness? How do we get past the fear of what may happen next? How do we minister to those suffering around us?


We live in a corrupt, broken world. Some people do evil things. Our beautiful creation is polluted and toxic. It's no wonder we get sick. It is easy to slide into hopeless despair, and then bitterness, complaining, and defeat.


But this is not the way the world was meant to be. No wonder we never quite feel at home in it. All creation is groaning and waiting in expectation for a world to come.


"We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair, persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies...


So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal." (Paul writing in II Corinthians 4)


I always get stuck on the phrase "light momentary affliction." I think, what my friends are suffering is not light and momentary! What did Paul suffer anyway? He endured imprisonment, beatings, stoning, and shipwreck. His life was constantly threatened. That doesn't sound light and momentary either. But then we realize the passage says "beyond all comparison." COMPARED to what lies ahead, these trials are light and momentary. "For we do not have a lasting city, but we are seeking the city to come." (Hebrews 13:14) Our lives on this earth are so short compared to eternity, the place where God wipes away every tear, and there will no longer be any death, mourning, crying or pain.


C.S. Lewis ends his Chronicles of Narnia with these words:


“But for them it was only the beginning of the real story. All their life in this world and all their adventures in Narnia had only been the cover and the title page: now at last they were beginning Chapter One of the Great Story, which no one on earth has read: which goes on forever: in which every chapter is better than the one before.”

Our Father's Hand

Grieving for my friends traveling treacherous roads, I was thinking of this story by Corrie ten Boom. Then I remembered I've already written about it here on this blog. But Corrie's words are worth reading again.


http://mininginthemorning.blogspot.com/search?q=corrie+ten+boom

Trivial Pursuits

I have been reading Amusing Ourselves to Death: Public Discourse in the Age of Show Business by Neil Postman. It is a very interesting (and alarming) commentary on our culture and its love affair with television. The book was written in 1985 but is even more pertinent today. Did you read Orwell and Huxley mentioned below in the foreward of Postman's book? I read them in high school, when I didn't care about anything except my own little world. Now, the older I get, I am so frustrated by the shallow, empty, mindless pursuits of the people of this country.

"We were keeping our eye on 1984. When the year came and the prophecy didn't, thoughtful Americans sang softly in praise of themselves. The roots of liberal democracy had held. Wherever else the terror had happened, we, at least, had not been visited by Orwellian nightmares.

But we had forgotten that alongside Orwell's dark vision, there was another - slightly older, slightly less well known, equally chilling: Aldous Huxley's Brave New World. Contrary to common belief even among the educated, Huxley and Orwell did not prophesy the same thing. Orwell warns that we will be overcome by an externally imposed oppression. But in Huxley's vision, no Big Brother is required to deprive people of their autonomy, maturity and history. As he saw it, people will come to love their oppression, to adore the technologies that undo their capacities to think.

What Orwell feared were those who would ban books. What Huxley feared was that there would be no reason to ban a book, for there would be no one who wanted to read one. Orwell feared those who would deprive us of information. Huxley feared those who would give us so much that we would be reduced to passivity and egoism. Orwell feared that the truth would be concealed from us. Huxley feared the truth would be drowned in a sea of irrelevance. Orwell feared we would become a captive culture. Huxley feared we would become a trivial culture, preoccupied with some equivalent of the feelies, the orgy porgy, and the centrifugal bumblepuppy. As Huxley remarked in Brave New World Revisited, the civil libertarians and rationalists who are ever on the alert to oppose tyranny 'failed to take into account man's almost infinite appetite for distractions'. In 1984, Huxley added, people are controlled by inflicting pain. In Brave New World, they are controlled by inflicting pleasure. In short, Orwell feared that what we hate will ruin us. Huxley feared that what we love will ruin us.

This book is about the possibility that Huxley, not Orwell, was right."

Psalm 91

My favorite Psalm set to music. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YvhWTWpNWL0

Art Museum

Through the generosity of my friend, we had an opportunity to visit the art museum in the big city at no cost. We wanted to see the Roberto Capuzzi exhibit that all the teachers at 4-H were talking about, but the price for three of us to go would have been prohibitive.

Roberto Capucci is an Italian fashion designer and artist. The dresses he creates are so amazing that many of them are considered sculptures. Since Arielle and Liana sew, I knew they would appreciate the intricate designs and elegant fabrics and brilliant colors of this exhibit. Capucci was inspired by elements in nature, which was especially fascinating to us. Some of his dresses resemble flowers or butterflies. Some incorporate bamboo, stones, leaves or straw. Truly incredible! The 4-H teachers were planning an adult "field trip" to the museum. I would never have gone without my daughters! I wanted to share this experience with them.

I have never driven to the museum myself and the traffic makes me crazy. I didn't think Fred would appreciate the exhibit. So who in our family is artsy and creative and might like to go too? Gretchen, my future daughter-in-law, and Marissa, my step-daughter! So the five of us headed off on a beautiful spring morning down the highway infamous for traffic jams and delays. But none for us today.

After the exhibit we wandered around the museum, but not long enough! The night before we had gone on-line to check out famous paintings we wanted to see. So we found a few, but then it was time to go home. Again, concerns about traffic.

Thank you, my friend, for giving us this special time. My girls' lives are richer for it. I saw the wheels turning in Liana's head as she viewed the incredible dresses. Later, she spent all of Saturday creating her own design, unique to her, but I could see traces of Capucci in it. When she is finished sewing it, I will post a picture.

Planting Day

Mother's Day was one of those perfect kind of days. Sunny and warm and bright with fluffy flowers on the trees and blazing azaleas adorning homes. Church was crowded and I couldn't sit with my son and daughter-in-law, but my precious granddaughter squeezed in beside me.

At home, we needed to plant the garden. Fred had already put in some potted vegetables and said he would do the seeds so I could work on the wedding dresses. I knew I had to help him. It is backbreaking work. The sewing would just have to wait for another day. The girls ran out to make chalk drawings in the driveway. I got on my ragged gloves and old sneakers and headed out. I would have missed a blessing if I'd stayed inside.

Fred and I worked side-by-side and planted everything. Fred works so hard on the garden all season. It has really become his "baby" and not mine anymore. So I follow his lead and do things his way, even though my years of gardening experience vastly outnumber his!

We planted two packs of green beans. Be ready to receive the bounty, friends and family! I'm already envisioning the sweaty, painful work of harvesting them. Maybe I'll invite you over to pick your own!

Damien and Gretchen and Marissa came over. The deck is being renovated due to carpenter ant invasion, so we sat in chairs in the middle of the yard and watched the girls play badminton. Fred cooked out some burgers. We called the sliders because all we had were hot dog rolls. We cut them in half and made these tiny meat patties to fit on them. The children who couldn't come over called, so I was able to connect with each one. Later, Marissa, Arielle and I sat in the kitchen eating goodies and talking like three old women. I really am becoming my mother. That is her favorite activity too.

It was a blessed day.

In Sickness and in Health

My son is getting married this summer and we are in the midst of wedding excitement. The girls are to be junior bridesmaids, so their dresses have to be made, and they are constantly discussing shoes and jewelry and hair. And that is nothing compared to the anticipation and preparations of the bride and her mom! What a beautiful picture of marriage when the day culminates in the vows and exchange of rings and a new couple is announced to the world.


My good friend is seriously ill. She has been married many years--probably 30 something. When I visited her a few days ago, her biggest concern was not for herself but for her beloved husband. She was worried he is doing too much and not taking care of himself. She spoke of his total devotion to her in her time of need, his vigilance in never leaving her side. The endless, sleepless nights they shared, his attending to her every need. She said, "In sickness and in health..." Yet, his gift was overwhelming and amazing to her. What an honorable man! What an even more beautiful picture of marriage.


I found out a woman in our church will have surgery this week--a kidney transplant. The donor is her husband. What a sacrifice. He is risking his own health to give life to his wife. "Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ also loved the church, and gave himself up for her." (Ephesians 5:25) This is the mystery of marriage.


My son and his new wife will have a joyous wedding day in July, and they will share many other celebrations in their married life. Unfortunately, they may share pain too, and they will be called to sacrifice for each other. It is not to be grieved though. It is a high calling. Jesus said there is no greater love than to lay down your life for another.

Easter

It was a glorious day, warm and green. Dominic and Stacia came for the weekend. Our house was filled with kids and laughter. Arielle served breakfast at church with her middle school class. We sang "Christ the Lord has Risen Today." Life doesn't get much better than this.

Parting Words

Psalm 23:4. "Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me."

Whatever dark places we have to travel through, God promises to be with us. What a comfort that is! But it would be nice to have a human alongside of us too.

II Corinthians 1: 3-5. "Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. For as we share abundantly in Christ's sufferings, so through Christ we share abundantly in comfort too."

God has been with us in all our troubles of this life. With the same comfort we have received, we are to comfort others. It's a frightening place to go, taking a friend's hand through the valley of the shadow of death. My first impulse is to run away.

A friend once told me she is a good listener. (I agree.) She says she is good at visiting people in the hospital, just sitting with them and providing comfort. I admire her. I hope if I'm the one in the hospital, she will visit me. I would be strengthened and encouraged by her presence. Even now, this woman is traveling through the stormy night with not one, but two friends of hers.

I'm not so confident of my comforting skills. Maybe I was traumatized when I was a very young nurse working on the oncology floor of a large hospital. The suffering of people was devastating to me. I felt so helpless to comfort, so powerless to help. I still feel that way. Friends, I am praying for courage to walk with you and climb into that boat as you battle the winds and waves.

On this Maundy Thursday, the day we remember as the Last Supper, I am thinking about Jesus' parting words. He washed his disciples feet and said to them, "I have given you an example, that you also should do just as I have done to you." Then he said, "A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. By this all people will know you are my disciples if you have love for one another." John 13.

"Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends." John 15:13.

Hope

Storms tore through our area over the weekend. High winds whipped the trees and all night we heard the cracking of their huge trunks as they bent this way and that. Rain pounded the windows as we watched for the tornadoes coming up from the south.

Palm Sunday. Brilliant sunshine shone over the new grass shimmering green. Trees are in full bloom. The storm is over. At church we heard the best sermon ever on Romans 3. We ran errands afterwards, just enjoying our tasks and being together as a family. In the afternoon Fred did what he loves most--puttering around the yard. He played in his shed with all his "toys." He rode his mower around. I told the girls no TV, no computer this day. So they spent hours outside making chalk designs in the driveway. And I did what relaxes me the most and relieves my stress--sewing! In the quiet of my little basement room I can think and relax as I work my fingers in the fabric and listen to the whir of my sewing machine. At one point my friend in the hospital called and we had a nice long conversation and even a few laughs. She is an amazing, courageous woman traveling this scary journey. The storm clouds scattered away momentarily to let us glimpse the sunshine.

Are you an optimist or a pessimist? Liana and I were discussing this because these two words were on her spelling list. An optimist has the expectation that in a given circumstance, good will result. This is not bad, and I would say I am an optimist. But this thinking can often lead to disappointment because sometimes, in a practical sense, good does not result. Hope, in the spiritual sense, is different. It has nothing to do with circumstance or results. It is a confident expectation that God is in control and has purpose in our experiences. Here is the Biblical definition:

"And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has been given us." Romans 5:2-5.

I read that early medieval monks would greet each other in the hallways by saying, "Remember your mortality." We pretend that every sickness will be healed and that we will never have our lives threatened. We are horrified when the results are different. This quote made me think:

"Death unaddressed is the bogeyman in the basement. It keeps us looking over our shoulders and holds us back from entering joyously into the days we are given. But death dragged out from the shadows and held up to the light of the gospel not only loses its sting, it becomes an essential reminder to wisely use the life we have.

When we remember the mortality of those around us, they become more valuable to us. Madeleine L'Engle once noted that when people die, it is the sins of omission, rather than commission, that haunt us...And remembering our own mortality helps reorder our priorities; a race toward a finish line has a different sense of purpose and urgency than a jog around the block." Carolyn Arends

On Stormy Seas

"Immediately Jesus made his disciples get into the boat and go before him to the other side of the sea while he dismissed the crowds. And after dismissing the crowds, he went up on the mountain by himself to pray. When evening came, he was there alone, but the boat by this time was a long way from the land, beaten by the waves, for the wind was against them. And in the fourth watch of the night he came to them, walking on the sea. But when the disciples saw him walking on the sea, they were terrified, and said, 'It's a ghost!' And they cried out in fear. But immediately Jesus spoke to them, saying 'Take heart; it is I. Do not be afraid.'" Matthew 14:22-27.

What I find interesting about this passage is that Jesus "made" them get into the boat, to go on ahead of him. The disciples found themselves in a tempest on the sea, but not because of anything they did wrong. It was not a random accident or because of poor choices they made. They were there because Jesus told them to go there. Jesus knew there was a storm brewing and he sent his friends into the midst of it.

Can you imagine what the disciples thought? First of all, they were fishermen. They had surely seen storms before, but this one really frightened them. They knew what the outcome could be. But they also knew Jesus could calm the winds and waves. Just a few chapters back, Matthew records another bleak night on the sea. Jesus was asleep in the boat when his disciples woke him up to save them from the storm. But where was Jesus now? It was the fourth watch of the night--between 3am and 6am. These men had been struggling for many long hours.

You know Jesus is aware of the storm. He knows everything! But where is he? Why would he do this? His people desperately cry out to him. Then Jesus comes to them. But the disciples are terrified and don't recognize him--until they hear his voice. "Take heart. It is I. Do not be afraid."

When we can't see him, we must trust him. We watch for him when the thunderous waves rage against us and our boat threatens to dump us into the sea. We wait to hear his voice. Jesus is close. He promised he would never leave us to face the storm on our own.

A little verse by Charles Spurgeon sums it up:

"O angel of my God, be near, Amid the darkness hush my fear; Loud roars the wild tempestuous sea, Thy presence, Lord, shall comfort me."

Trials of Faith

"Faith untried may be true faith, but it is sure to be little faith, and it is likely to remain dwarfish so long as it is without trials. Faith never prospers so well as when all things are against her: tempests are her trainers, and lightnings are her illuminators. When a calm reigns on the sea, spread the sails as you will, the ship moves not to its harbour; for on a slumbering ocean the keel sleeps too. Let the winds rush howling forth, and let the waters lift up themselves, then, though the vessel may rock, and her deck may be washed with waves, and her mast may creak under the pressure of the full and swelling sail, it is then that she makes headway towards her desired haven. No flowers wear so lovely a blue as those which grow at the foot of the frozen glacier; no stars gleam so brightly as those which glisten in the polar sky; no water tastes so sweet as that which springs amid the desert sand; and no faith is so precious as that which lives and triumphs in adversity. Tried faith brings experience. You could not have believed your own weakness had you not been compelled to pass through the rivers; and you would never have known God's strength had you not been supported amid the water-floods. Faith increases in solidity, assurance, and intensity, the more it is exercised with tribulation. Faith is precious, and its trial is precious too." Charles Spurgeon

Snow in April

Untimely.

We didn't expect it. It was inopportune, inconvenient, inappropriate, unseasonable. All those "not" prefixes.

Someone I know was just diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, late stage. I keep thinking about his response, "I'm so disappointed." He had plans for the future, more he wanted to do with his life. Hopes are now dashed.

These shockers are not our plans. We have our own expectations. When you are young, you really believe you have control over the events of your life. As you get older, your foundations are shaken and you realize how helpless you really are to avert disaster and disease. So do we live our lives in fear?

"For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:

A time to be born, and a time to die;

A time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;

A time to kill, and a time to heal;

A time to break down, and a time to build up;

A a time to weep, and a time to laugh;

A time to mourn, and a time to dance;

A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;

A time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;

A time to seek, and a time to lose;

A time to keep, and a time to cast away;

A time to tear, and a time to sew;

A time to keep silence, and a time to speak;

A time to love, and a time to hate;

A time for war, and a time for peace.

"I have seen the business that God has given to the children of man to be busy with. He has made everything beautiful in its time. Also, he has put eternity into man's heart...there is nothing better for them than to be joyful and to do good as long as they live; also that everyone should eat and drink and take pleasure in all his toil—this is God's gift to man." (Ecclesiastes 3)

Enjoy God's gift of life. Only he knows the number of our days.

Reconnected

This week our church hosted its annual time of promoting missions. Missionaries come home from their posts all over the world and interact with the people in different ways with meals and lectures. Money is raised for a variety of projects. This year the funds will be given to Haiti to build a school there. The kids' program is very popular and every year I take my daughters for at least a couple of days. They begged to go EVERY day this time, so how can I say no? This week Arielle was a helper and Liana an attendee. Liana gets to see her friends, do a craft, eat food from another country and learn about its culture (this year Taiwan). Even though the kids' program is four days straight, adults do not have something every night. So what do we do? Monday I stayed to help out. Tuesday Fred and I had a date night! We spent the time drinking coffee and reading books in our local bookstore.

Last night was a special program for women. No men allowed. It was a mystery as to what we would do, but I decided to check it out. I am so glad I did. Two hundred and twenty women and teen girls arrived for the event. Six women missionaries from various parts of the world were seated up front and very candidly shared some of their struggles. The point was that we all have issues and that they shouldn't prevent us from serving somewhere, doing something. One woman has challenging health issues. One has difficulty living in a different culture that has no sense of time or urgency. One is single and extremely lonely. One has small children and feels her life is on hold because she is not useful to others. One is overwhelmed with all the work she has to do. One has issues with self-image. One is just plain tired and irritable. (That's more than six, so some women have more than one issue!) Just as we all do. And all their "issues" are common to all women, except I guess most of us don't have to deal with living in another culture.

We also had time to interact with other women who attended. I ran into many of the young women I taught years ago in Bible studies. Precious, beautiful young women, their children I knew as babies growing up. It was like a family reunion seeing them again. The openness and vulnerability of the speakers seemed to give us the freedom to share our own issues with others. Women are struggling with marriage problems, death of parents, kid problems, illness. We connected on a deeper level and encouraged each other. I came home renewed and refreshed. Women need other women. I've missed that.

Needed: More Prayer

There are many reasons why we should be praying. The needs of the world are great, and we will never be at a shortage of things to pray for. We pray because God answers prayer. For many years I have kept journals of my prayer requests for myself and others and have checked them off as they were answered. God hears us when we pray. We draw close to him and are encouraged not to give up. We enter into his work when we add our prayers to those of others and his will is accomplished on this earth. We enter into his presence when we are quiet and listening. Jesus prayed-- a lot! If he needed to pray, we certainly do. But the number one reason to pray is that scripture tells us to do it. God doesn't need our help to get things done, surely. But we are told to pray.

Luke 18:1 says Jesus told them a parable to show that they "ought always to pray and not lose heart." I Timothy 2:8 says "I desire then that in every place the people should pray." I Thessalonians 5:17 says to "pray without ceasing." James 5:16 says, "Confess your sins to one another and pray for one another, that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous person has great power." I Timothy 2:1 says, "I urge that supplications, prayers, intercessions, and thanksgivings be made for all people." Pray all kinds of prayers for all kinds of people.

Charles Spurgeon has some advice on serious prayer, the kind Jesus prayed in the garden before his death. The all-alone-with-God, on-your-knees kind of prayer:

"Family prayer, social prayer, prayer in the church, will not suffice, these are very precious, but the best beaten spice will smoke in your censer in your private devotions, where no ear hears but God's. Jesus' prayer was humble prayer. He fell on his face to the ground. Humility gives us a good foothold in prayer. There is no hope of prevalence with God unless we abase ourselves that He may exalt us in due time. Jesus prayed, 'Abba, Father.' You will find it a stronghold in the day of trial to plead your adoption. Nothing can forfeit a child's right to a father's protection. Don't be afraid to say, 'My Father, hear my cry.' Observe that it was persevering prayer. He prayed three times. Cease not until you prevail. Continue in prayer, and watch in the same with thanksgiving.

"Lastly, it was the prayer of resignation. 'Not as I will, but as you will.' Yield, and God yields. Let it be as God wills, and God will determine for the best. Be content to leave your prayer in his hands, who knows when to give, and how to give, and what to give, and what to withhold. So pleading, earnestly, importunately, yet with humility and resignation, you will surely prevail."

A message for us all: "Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." Philippians 4:6, 7.

Good Old Cat

Nineteen years ago when our family was going through a hard time, I brought home two orange kittens with blue eyes. We laughed at their antics during a time of tears. One son took one of the cats, the other became Damien's and mine.

I am not a cat-person. I think cats have some very annoying traits. For example, my cat Squiggy wasn't big on the litter box, so he quickly became an outdoor cat. He loved being outside though, catching mice and birds and wandering the woods behind our apartment complex. Later, he moved to Atlanta with us, riding on the seat next to me in the big Ryder truck for 14 hours. Squiggy did not like Atlanta. He couldn't go outside and, once again, did not like the litter box either. We began a love-hate relationship.

We moved back to the same apartment complex. Here is the story often told about Squiggy: He must have been disoriented after arriving because he wandered off. No one could find him. Damien would walk through the woods and call to him, day after day, but we had no idea what happened to him. Lost, we decided. Poor Squiggy.

Another day, and once more Damien was combing the heavily wooded forest, calling out, "Squiggy!" as he walked. Then, "Meow." A small cat voice off in the distance. Damien continued to call and Squiggy kept answering. Damien followed the meows and there the cat was, hiding in a field of grasses.

We moved again and Squiggy became King of His Domain. He had more woods to explore and territory to claim. Vicious battles with other cats were fought over his land. He almost lost an eye once. But I'd hate to see what his opponent looked like.

We worried about him. He often trotted down to the busy road near our house. We would stop our car when we saw him and yell at him to go back home, and he would. On Sundays he visited the church across the street and hung out in its parking lot, relishing all the petting he received from the church-goers. Since he lived outside, he would join us in whatever we happened to be doing. He watched us garden and he would lie down near the kids when they were on the swingset. If we took a walk, he would follow us like a an obedient dog. I grew to love him.

About two years ago Squiggy had some sort of accident. Fred found him in the bushes near death. We brought him inside and he began his retirement in the basement. Remarkably, he recovered. He never gained his ability to jump again, but he lived in comfort in our warm laundry room.

This week we noticed Squiggy failing. He could barely stand; his cry was weak. He would still greet us and rub on our legs and purr if he was petted. He got worse. He was breathing heavily with his mouth open. I called Damien to let him know Squiggy might not have much time, so Damien came by after work last night. We both agreed Squiggy was suffering. We called the vet and we were told to bring him right in.

Squiggy did not go gentle into that good night. He fought with a strength I hadn't seen in years. On the drive over he bit me (something he's never done in his life) and he bit Damien when Damien carried him inside. We were told he would be sedated and then we could visit with him a little before the IV was started. But that didn't happen. I guess the stress of driving and moving him caused his poor old heart to quit.

I came home to find Liana on her bed, tears streaming down her face. She had drawn a beautiful picture of Squiggy and wrote this poem. Her way of dealing with her emotions, and mine too, I guess, since I am writing today. Squiggy was a good old cat. He was ours, a part of the family.

Squiggy

April 2, 1992 to March 23, 2011

Squiggy loved the outdoors
Where he could be wild and free,
He was strong, so no other cat
Dared to mess with Squiggy,
So strong, yet so kind to children
Who passed by,
There was a wild gleam in his
Beautiful eyes,
Which showed people how loyal he was,
His owners gave him so much love,
Till that day when his heart stopped,
19 good years to remember,
Now, then and forever.

History of the World

I am reading through the book of Acts and came across Paul's address to the people of Athens.

So Paul, standing in the midst of the Areopagus, said: “Men of Athens, I perceive that in every way you are very religious. For as I passed along and observed the objects of your worship, I found also an altar with this inscription, ‘To the unknown god.’ What therefore you worship as unknown, this I proclaim to you. The God who made the world and everything in it, being Lord of heaven and earth, does not live in temples made by man, nor is he served by human hands, as though he needed anything, since he himself gives to all mankind life and breath and everything. And he made from one man every nation of mankind to live on all the face of the earth, having determined allotted periods and the boundaries of their dwelling place, that they should seek God, in the hope that they might feel their way toward him and find him. Yet he is actually not far from each one of us, for in him we live and move and have our being... Being then God's offspring, we ought not to think that the divine being is like gold or silver or stone, an image formed by the art and imagination of man. The times of ignorance God overlooked, but now he commands all people everywhere to repent, because he has fixed a day on which he will judge the world in righteousness by a man whom he has appointed; and of this he has given assurance to all by raising him from the dead. Now when they heard of the resurrection of the dead, some mocked. But others said, “We will hear you again about this.” So Paul went out from their midst. But some men joined him and believed.
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Well, that about sums it up. Creation to Adam to the nations of mankind to Jesus to the end of the world. God has allotted our time on earth and where we would live, and our purpose is to seek him and find him.
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Back then people responded the same as they do now. Some mock, some question but desire to know more, and some believe.

Under Fire

One of Fred's co-workers said to him, "You know a true Christian by how he responds under fire." My patient, people-loving, trusting husband has been sorely tested by his real estate clients. They have really pushed him to the limits of his goodness and kindness. In his frustration, he was sounding off on what he would like to say to them when the whole transaction is over.

A friend of mine works under difficult conditions and has an office manager who is rude to her. I can't understand that because Diane is such a lovable, affable kind of person. But I do know how office politics can work. In order not to respond in a negative way when this manager attacks her, Diane writes scripture on index cards and takes them to work. When Diane feels she is ready to blow, she pulls out a card and reads it over. She says it calms her and she can better let things go rather than retaliate. Scripture reminds her of her identity in Christ.

Serving in the Alpha ministry at church has been a real test for me, a test I think I failed some weeks. Fred and I are nearing the end of six years of cooking for about 50 people every week. I could list many grievances I've had working in the kitchen, but there is no use re-hashing it all. If you think because you work at church, conditions are different than they are in the "world," you would be wrong. People are people, the same the world over, the same throughout time. I have always been accused of over-reacting to situations. So I have complained; I have gossiped. I have not always been kind to those who wronged me.

Take this to a more serious level. As we watch in horror what is happening in Japan, I think about the individual people there. Moms, dads, and children suffering cold, hunger, thirst, and fear, in addition to grief. Evacuated from their homes, if they even have a home left. Living in shelters in crowded conditions interacting with others who are also suffering. I can't imagine. And we think we have problems?

It makes me wonder how I would react in a crisis. Would my true nature rear its ugly head (the one I keep hidden from the public) or would I respond in love and compassion, in the way God has always responded to me? "Be imitators of God, as beloved children, and walk in love as Christ loved us." (Ephesians 5:1) Would I complain bitterly or console others? If I look at my past experiences, I would have to say I wouldn't fare so well. A sobering thought.

Jesus said you can't hide your true self for long. It will erupt in your words. "Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks." (Matthew 12:34) An instinctive response to an unexpected situation reveals the condition of a person's heart.

But back to what Fred's co-worker said. I have to somewhat disagree. If you respond badly under fire, it does not necessarily mean you are not a Christian. It just shows you need to rely more on God, like my friend Diane. We need to thank God for our blessings, and ask him for help. Our words and actions under stress reveal our need.

Afternoon Movie

Fred and I rarely watch movies unless we plan a special family night with the girls. Adult-themed movies are not at all appropriate for them, and Fred and I don't have much time apart from the girls. PG-13 movies are still off-limits for them, and it's slim pickings for any quality PG or G movies.

We were returning home from a marriage seminar at our church and stopped to get books from the library. I asked Fred if he wanted to get a movie to watch with the girls that night. He said yes and came inside to choose one. Immediately he picked up The Book of Eli, rated R. Of course the girls couldn't watch that, and I didn't know when he'd find time to see it, but he got it anyway.

It turned out Liana went off to a friend's house and Arielle was curled up with a book, so Fred and I had a free afternoon together. I had sewing I wanted to do, but since we just came from a marriage seminar, I decided the right thing to do was spend time with my husband. So we put the movie on. It looked to me like just a "guy movie" with guns and violence and lots of things blowing up. Boring...doesn't interest me at all. This movie takes place in some post-apocalyptic time so the landscape is dull and barren. Yawn... But the movie grabbed my attention soon. Denzel Washington, Eli, is on a mission from God to deliver a special book to some people "out west." That's all you know in the beginning. There is a lot of violence that accounts for the R rating, but this was an excellent movie! The plot is so good that I explained it to both the girls later. The movie presents the power and the value of the Word of God--used by people for good or evil purposes--in a time when people have no Bible. The ending was very satisfying and a great surprise. It makes you want to cheer.

At the very of his life, Eli quotes II Timothy 4:7. "I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith." Isn't that what we all would want to say at our end?

I recently found a video clip filmed in some remote place in Indonesia. Hundreds of people are singing and dancing and obviously celebrating some special event. Soon a plane lands, and people excitedly clap and shout. They are receiving their first Bibles in their own language. The Bibles are unloaded from the plane and many people begin to weep. Then the packages are carefully and tenderly carried off to the village as if they hold the most precious treasure on the face of the earth. An older man quotes John 1:1, "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God." They believe it is God himself coming to them through his Word.

Do we believe that? We Americans so much take the scriptures for granted. We have always had them. Maybe we won't really know their value until we have them no more.

An Ordinary Morning

This day...this moment in time...

The sun has risen, filling the room with light. Spring is ready to make an entrance, but winter insists on staying a little longer. From the window, I can see the pussy willow's fuzzy buds bursting open, yet strong winds still bend the trees. It's silent in this cozy place, except for the creaky sounds of the iron stove as it expands. No, not silent. The guinea pigs nibble hay with their tiny teeth, waking for a new day. And birds call, though no windows are open. They announce they are ready for a new season. Not me.

My dear husband keeps us warm with the fire he starts at dawn each day. He is at work, finally doing what he loves best and what he was created to do--puttering and fixing. He is using the talents he's acquired over a lifetime. My daughters are still in their beds, soon to be moaning when I arouse them to get ready for school. I'm doing exactly what I should be doing in this season of life. I know it. Giving my girls a good education, protecting them as long as possible.

March--the transition month between the long winter and a new spring. Our family is also in a transition time. Our babies nearly grown, but not yet women. Fred and me--our lives mostly lived, but that place called "old age" still seems far off in the distance. We're healthy and strong.
(If we slow down, will it take longer to get there?)

Don't leave, month of March. We want to stay here and live in this moment. The sky is clear and blue and I don't see any storms on the horizon today. Not today anyway. I put another log on the fire to keep it burning a little longer.

**************************

See? I captured one moment in time. I held it in my hands and examined it and saw its beauty and took pleasure in it. But now I have to set it down and move on. Time for school.

Missing the Boat

"Do not miss the boat that's here, while mourning the boat that's sailed." Andree Seu.

I'm often thinking about all those boats that sailed, never to come again. My baby girls are growing up. We're in a new phase of life and time is flying by. But, "This is the day the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it." Psalm 118:24.

Liana had to learn "Michael, Row the Boat Ashore" on the violin. That led to us searching youtube and we got sidetracked listening to old Peter, Paul and Mary songs. Liana was amazed I knew all the words to "Puff the Magic Dragon." What a trip down memory lane! But do any of us really want to go back to those days? Not me. Looking back brings regret. Looking forward can scare you. Today is just fine. I just wish I could hold on to it. Another day has slipped away.

Prayers of Many Answered!

This afternoon I opened up my new World Magazine and read this great news! The title is:
FREE AT LAST.

"Said Musa, the 46-year-old Afghan Christian jailed since May 31, 2010, quietly was released by Afghan government authorities in Kabul on February 21 and allowed to leave the country."

Credit was given to western Christians, U.S. and European diplomats, the International Committee for the Red Cross (for whom he had worked for 15 years) and NATO chief Anders Fogh Rasmussen. Ultimately, we give credit to God for saving this man's life.

Please continue to pray for the others, especially Shoib Assadullah, a young Afghan man who was arrested for giving someone a Bible.

Sewing Frenzy

I have heard no more about Said Musa. All we can do is continue to pray--for him and all those imprisoned unjustly.

Saturday morning we woke to see a flurry of activity under our lilac tree. Spring is coming! Woodpeckers galore! A flock of them! We identified three different kinds, all taking their turns at the suet feeder. Sorting through the old seed at the other feeder were mourning doves, crows, cardinals, starlings, nuthatches, juncos, and even a lone chickadee. All these birds after not seeing any for so long! We were delighted.

4-H has started up again and the girls are each making dresses. But because their patterns are difficult and they always have sizing issues, they are first making a "practice" dress. I am a volunteer at the 4-H center and have been assigned a girl who is making another difficult dress. I am learning as much as she is as we take it step-by-step. The women who lead there are incredibly talented.

If that weren't enough sewing, we have even bigger projects. Stacia has invited the girls to be junior bridesmaids in her wedding and after checking prices for dresses, we decided it would be best to make them. One of the teachers at 4-H was very helpful in choosing the patterns that would work best. Again, I need to make practice dresses before we invest in good fabric. So that's four dresses for me to make. So between the girls and me, we have eight dresses to sew by June! I also have a quilt I've been trying to finish for years and the end is in sight. But it might have to be held off a little longer.

Dominic gave us an idea for a money-making venture. He will design us a website if we want to go into the sewing business. That is an idea for the future after we get these dresses made. This could even branch out to lessons in our house for girls who want to start sewing. Some people do not live near the 4-H center or do not want to commit to the many hours required every weekend to sew with that group. If I could generate a little income for the household, it would help tremendously and take some of the burden from my hard-working husband.

As I was contemplating this idea this morning, I read this verse. Actually I don't even remember noticing it before. Jesus was telling a parable and he said, "Engage in business until I come." Part of the interpretation is that we are not to sit and look at the sky, doing nothing while we wait for Christ's return. Or sit in fear of world events, as some do. But in light of this parable, we are to do something useful with the resources, talents, and opportunities that God gives us.

Pray for our Brother in Christ

Have you heard this story? Probably not. The media is mostly silent. I read about Said Musa in World Magazine, twice. I cut out his picture and put it on my refrigerator so I would remember to pray for him. He is imprisoned in an Afghan prison simply for being a Christian. His execution is imminent.

Here is an article by Paul Marshall from the National Review On-Line:

A terrible drama is unfolding in Afghanistan: There are reports that Said Musa, will soon be executed for the ‘crime’ of choosing to become a Christian. Musa was one of about 25 Christians arrested on May 31, 2010, after a May 27 Noorin TV program showed video of a worship service held by indigenous Afghan Christians; he was arrested as he attempted to seek asylum at the German embassy. He converted to Christianity eight years ago, is the father of six young children, had a leg amputated after he stepped on a landmine while serving in the Afghan Army, and now has a prosthetic leg. His oldest child is eight and one is disabled (she cannot speak). He worked for the Red Cross/Red Crescent as an adviser to other amputees.

Said was forced to appear before a judge without any legal counsel and without knowledge of the charges against him. “Nobody [wanted to be my] defender before the court. When I said ‘I am a Christian man,’ he [a potential lawyer] immediately spat on me and abused me and mocked me. . . . I am alone between 400 [people with] terrible values in the jail, like a sheep.” He has been beaten, mocked, and subjected to sleep deprivation and sexual abuse while in prison. No Afghan lawyer will defend him and authorities denied him access to a foreign lawyer.

Any and every human being who is imprisoned, abused, or tortured for the free and peaceful expression of their faith deserves our support, but Musa is also a remarkable person and Christian. In a letter smuggled to the West, he says, “The authority and prisoners in jail did many bad behaviour with me about my faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. For example, they did sexual things with me, beat me by wood, by hands, by legs, put some things on my head.”
He added a thing much more important to him, that they “mocked me ‘he’s Jesus Christ,’ spat on me, nobody let me for sleep night and day. . . . Please, please, for the sake of Lord Jesus Christ help me.”

He has not, in fact, even appealed to be released, only to be transferred to another prison. He has also stated that he is willing to give his life for his faith. “Please, please you should transfer me from this jail to a jail that supervises the believers. . . . I also agree . . . to sacrifice my life in public [where] I will tell [about my] faith in Lord Jesus Christ, son of God, [so] other believers will take courage and be strong in their faith.”

Newspapers in the U.K. and elsewhere in Europe have reported the story, but with, the exception of the Wall Street Journal and NRO, American outlets have not found it worthy of attention. “Afghan officials have been unapologetic: ‘The sentence for a convert is death and there is no exception,’ said Jamal Khan, chief of staff at the Ministry of Justice. ‘They must be sentenced to death to serve as a lesson for others.’"

The U.S. government — reportedly including Secretary of State Clinton — and other governments have pushed for his release, but to no avail. But the president has been silent, even as we fight a war that has among its goals the creation of a government that conforms to international human-rights standards. An American president certainly needs to guard and shepherd his political capital, and should not speak out about every prisoner. But Musa himself has appealed to “President Brother Obama” to rescue him from his current jail. And when an obscure and aberrant Florida pastor, Terry Jones, threatened to burn a Koran, not only President Obama but much of his cabinet, as well as General Petraeus, weighed in on the matter.
If the actions of a Florida pastor who threatened to destroy a book holy to Muslims deserved public and presidential attention, then the actions of the Afghan government, ostensibly a ‘democratic’ ally, to destroy something holy to Christians, a human being made in the image of God, also deserve public and presidential attention.

PRAY.

Music Appreciation

I came across notes Dominic took while he was using Liana as a test subject for his music appreciation class. In his observation study, he let Liana listen to two songs and then recorded her reactions.

Song 1: "The Gummy Bear Song"
Song 2: "The Piano Man" by Billy Joel

Subject Profile: Liana, 11, female, 5th grade student, little sister

What specific emotions did the lyrics convey to you (if any)?
Gummy Bear Song: "Really crazy, and energetic. It was a lot of fun."

Sensory, kinesthetic response:
Gummy Bear Song: Smiling, jumping, dancing, laughing, finger-pointed dance moves, hip swinging, head bopping on the bopping sound of the song, twirling on tippy-toes.
Piano Man: None noticed other than intent listening.

What specific images did the lyrics create in your mind (if any)?
Gummy Bear: "Multi-colored cartoon Gummy bears dancing around and having a party in a party room with a disco ball."
Piano Man: "Some old person in a rocking chair playing the harmonica."

Kinesthetic or sensory directly related to the lyrics (if any)?
Gummy bear Song: On the chorus, extra smiles and dancing. She made popping sounds with her mouth on the popping sounds in the song.

Liana enjoyed the Gummy Bear Song over the rock classic, Piano Man (hard to believe). She said she liked the tune of the Piano Man, but didn’t understand what he was singing about.

Have you ever heard the Gummy Bear Song? See if it doesn't make you smile. You'll soon be out of your chair dancing too! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=astISOttCQ0 There has to be a reason for those 108 million views.

I should add, Liana's goal for violin is to someday play Vivaldi's "Spring."

Music Fills our House

Prior to all of us getting sick, Dominic and Stacia came for a visit, so most of the family gathered to spend time with them. Dominic is taking a music appreciation class and he invited Liana's help with his homework assignment--evaluating pieces of music. Liana was not impressed with some of his choices. But both of them thoroughly enjoyed the "Gummy Bear" song that led to some wild dancing around the dining room!

Stacia provided a different sort of musical treat. She is an accomplished pianist, and Liana and Lana both were interested in hearing her play. I found out my little granddaughter Lana now has a keyboard and has discovered classical music. Given the opportunity, that child will go far. I so wish Arielle would play again. Somehow she lost interest, but her teacher at the time thought she had great skill.

We also had a lot of fun around the table when the big girls made "cootie catchers." It doesn't take much to entertain this family. Liana gave Dominic a birthday card she created herself. She wrote and illustrated a fairy tale about a wizard and a princess and an evil dragon named Damien. Using old stickers and old photos, she put together hilarious images of her brothers. I don't believe I've ever heard Damien laugh so much.

Pink Snow

On Valentine's Day I was treated to pink snow. The rising sun cast a rosy glow over the bleak winter landscape of my yard. What a gift this morning!

We have rejoined the land of the living. Last week a virus knocked us down hard. The girls and I lived in a groggy daze, rising from a pile of blankets to get a drink or take some Advil. This virus took all our energy and most of our interest in anything except warmth and sleep. It was nothing serious, I guess. But for a person who likes to get things done, it is hard to do nothing. What a waste, I kept thinking. Just sitting or lying and not DOING.

A little jingle kept going through my head: "Man proposes, God disposes." We plan (and oh, we had lots of plans last week) and whoosh, nothing works out. All our daily routines, meaningless. All we wanted was rest and sleep. A lot of orange juice and V-8 Fusion. Thank goodness I had homemade chicken soup in the freezer. Nothing else sounded good.

When we started feeling a little better, we pulled out some old home videos taken when the girls were little. We never have time to watch these. In fact, I'm sure some of the videos had never been viewed since recording them. Oh, my adorable babies! Why was I so blessed to be given these precious children? My little girls were so joyful, so full of song and dance. And you friends and family, I saw you on those videos too. I saw friends who now struggle with cancer. You didn't know back then what was coming. Fred's sister, gone from this world. She didn't know she had such a short time left. Another friend, on the video with his small children, now paralyzed by disease. How sobering to see the ignorance of our future.

But we are not all doomed by time. I saw younger versions of my boys. Some were going through great difficulties then, but now they are thriving. My girls no longer sing and dance around the house all day, but they are growing into responsible young women with many new interests.

"Come now, you who say, today or tomorrow we will go and do such and such...yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then it vanishes. Instead you ought to say, if the Lord wills, we will live and do this or that." (James 4:13-15.)

So if the Lord wills, we plan to return to comfortable routines today, doing our school work, enjoying family, and living in the moment.

My Baby is Eleven!

Liana, my youngest child, is growing up. It's hard to believe she is eleven. This picture is perfect to reveal the complexities of the age. Her passion is Build-A-Bears, yet she loves the old ipod her sister gave her and was delighted with her new shoes with wedge heels.

The girls don't go to school on their birthdays. It's the least I can do since I drive them so hard with school work when other kids have holidays and snow days and in-service days, etc., etc. On Arielle's birthday we spent the day at the mall, but on Liana's birthday we had icy roads and there was no going anywhere that morning. She wasn't terribly disappointed because she is a stay-at-home kind of person like me.

First of all, the girls decided to watch I Love Lucy on TV. I think it is funny they enjoy that show so much. I watched it on hot summer days in Arizona while my mother ironed. The voices and music of the program bring back special memories for me. After I Love Lucy my mom and I would watch Queen for a Day! I loved that one too.

Liana requested French toast for breakfast and then she opened a couple of gifts. Another birthday tradition is measuring! Arielle brought the yardstick and we saw how much they each had grown. (Too much!) Friends called to wish Liana a Happy Birthday, and since these children had no school due to the weather, we had an impromptu birthday gathering. Sometimes those spur-of-the-moment events are the most fun. So these two girls, plus their mother who is my good friend, came for the afternoon.

In the evening I made Liana's Chinese birthday soup and cake. Fred had a patient coming to the house, who is also Liana's violin teacher, and he happened to bring his son. So they ended up being our birthday guests. Liana had an interesting day after all.

Snow Videos

We have had a very unpredictable winter this year. Usually we count on a few good snowstorms, but this season we've had snow or ice every few days. Right now we're in a lull. I think everyone is tired of winter--except kids!

After the last big one, Liana built her own sledding hill from the snow piled up from shoveling. Then over the weekend Fred used the snow blower to carve out an icy slope in the back yard.

Glory of Creation

On the day of one of the biggest blizzards our country has seen for awhile (satellite photo above), I thought I would post a video that a friend sent me. The photography is beautiful.

http://www.andiesisle.com/creation/magnificent.html

Once again I am hearing the same message twice. After receiving that video our pastor began a series on "God's Great Story: How the Gospel Changes Everything." He began with creation, a good place to start. Instead of me explaining it, here is a summary:

"From beginning to end the Bible tells one story, God’s great story. It is the story of God’s glorious work of redeeming a people through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. This story includes creation, human sin, the fall of all creation, God’s covenant with his people, the redemptive work of Jesus, and the coming new creation. It is the story that shapes all of history and defines our lives."

We sang a new song that morning, and I found it on youtube so I could listen to it again. It goes along with what my friend sent. I hope you enjoy it.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sFVjy4gcsuE

If you are traveling through icy roads this morning, you probably aren't much impressed with the glories of creation right now. Those glistening icicles might not be dazzling your senses. I was grumbling a bit when I fell on the ice yesterday and sprained my wrist. But my complaining always turns to praise when I look out my window and see God's handiwork, right here in suburbia on my little plot of the earth. From sunrises to falling snow to soaring hawks and howling wind, all display the wonder, majesty and splendor of our God. It puts things in perspective.

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"The heavens declare the glory of God, and the sky above proclaims his handiwork...Be exalted, O God, above the heavens! Let your glory be over all the earth!...O Lord, how manifold are your works! In wisdom have you mde them all; the earth is full of your creatures..." (from the Psalms.)

Teachable

I've learned that if you receive a word more than once, pay attention. God is trying to tell you something. I had two e-mails this morning with the exact same passage of scripture from Psalm 25. I get the message: I am to be more humble and teachable.

"Make me to know your ways, O Lord; teach me your paths. Lead me in your truth and teach me, for you are the God of my salvation; for you I wait all the day long.
Remember your mercy, O Lord, and your steadfast love, for they have been from of old. Remember not the sins of my youth or my transgressions; according to your steadfast love remember me, for the sake of your goodness, O Lord!
Good and upright is the Lord; therefore he instructs sinners in the way. He leads the humble in what is right, and teaches the humble his way. All the paths of the Lord are steadfast love and faithfulness, for those who keep his covenant and his testimonies."

Our school days go much better when my daughters have a teachable attitude. It is difficult when they think they know it all and don't need instruction. (Do I do that with God?) We have an especially delightful day when they are eager to learn and excited about the lessons. (How excited am I to read God's word and learn from him?)

Today I will set my opinions and arrogant attitudes aside and I will listen to what others may teach me.

Snow and More Snow

As much as I don't like snow, we had fun yesterday. Fred came home from plowing and the girls and I made snowmen after shoveling the deck. The snow was perfect for rolling balls and the temperature outside was not so cold. At the end we had to hurry because rain was coming. Rain after a snowstorm. Very odd. But then the weather this whole winter has been strange.

In the evening we heard thunder and the blizzard came in. We watched out the window and we were amazed by how light it was outside. Where was the light coming from? I checked the calendar--no, it was not a full moon. But the whole yard was lit up. I tried to get a picture of that, but the snow was coming down so hard that I couldn't capture it.

My son Dominic mentioned he hoped for snow in D.C.. Well, he got it! The whole Northeast got hit last night. I heard on the news this morning that we have around 18 inches to shovel today. I'm tired thinking about it. But the sun has risen brilliantly from the shadow of clouds and I heard a woodpecker searching for his food. God is still on his throne. I thank him that I am strong and healthy and able to shovel snow.

Horrific Anniversary

Todd Pruitt has been on a rampage this week with the anniversary of Roe v. Wade. He is not afraid to stand up and say exactly how he feels about it He has posted numerous articles on his blog. http://www.toddpruitt.blogspot.com/. In our own town, an abortionist has been arrested and his house of horrors shut down, so this topic is in everyone's mind around our area.

I usually stay away from politics and controversial issues on this blog. I'm just an ordinary mom with ordinary kids, living an ordinary life. I love God and his Word and try to do what's right each day, usually UNsuccessfully. I daily contemplate and wrestle with cultural issues and how it conflicts with spiritual things. I'm sure all my friends and family know where I stand on abortion. If you disagree, I will gladly discuss it with you. I truly did not come by my opinion mindlessly or blindly by parroting views of white evangelical Republican men.

I have looked at all sides. I know what it is like to be poor raising children without any help. I've been there. There are so many "hard" cases. As a young woman I went with a classmate to an abortion clinic to be with her as she carried out her choice. It was a nice, modern clinic, but as she was in the back with the medical personnel, I had such a sense of darkness and evil that I wanted to flee. As I looked around at the women waiting, I had visions of Jews lined up for the gas chamber. For whatever reason, my friend did not follow through and we left. It was the last time I supported the "right to choose."

I've seen the pain of infertile couples yearning for a baby, with no babies to be had. One woman I know had an abortion when she was young. Later on, after she married, it was discovered she could not have any more children. I remember her guilt, shame, and remorse over her past decision. And then her struggle to adopt here in America. Not enough babies for all the couples who want them. In our own family, I see the outcome of women who chose life and the indescribable joy these children have brought us.

Many years ago I worked in the delivery room at an inner-city hospital and assisted with many births. I saw babies born to teenagers and drug-addicted mothers. Hard cases. Would it be better to not be born at all than to be subjected to poverty and abuse later on? But we fall into a trap if we carry that line of thinking into other problems in life.

Once I picketed an abortion clinic and watched people I know be hauled off to jail. I' saw the anger and ugliness of both sides. This doesn't seem to accomplish anything.

One time I took my youngest son to an optometrist in a poor section of town. I forget why we were at that particular place. I was in the waiting room and a pregnant woman sat beside me. She saw my girls--they were little then--and we started a conversation. She realized she could not care for her unborn baby and she was looking into adoption. She was working through an agency and was in the process of choosing a family for her child. She hinted that maybe I would want the baby. Maybe she saw that race did not matter in our family. I would gladly have added another color to the rainbow of people in our big extended family, but at the time, Liana was still a baby and I knew this wasn't the right decision for us then. I've thought about that woman so many times since. Hopefully she was encouraged that her baby would be loved by its new family after she saw my happy little girls.

At that same hospital where I worked, my views were cemented firmly in place when I was assigned to care for a baby boy born without part of his brain. He had no chance of survival. Nurses were supposed to monitor him and wait for him to die. I believe that was my hardest day of life on this planet. A doctor came into the room and joked how he would like to put a pillow over the baby and smother him. He even picked up a pillow and demonstrated. Despite this baby's deformities, he was still a human being. He was denied food and cried pitifully. I spent the day in tears, stroking his small limbs and talking to him. He suffered for 6 days before he died. This passage of scripture that Jesus spoke came alive for me:

For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me. Then the righteous will answer him, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? And when did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? And when did we see you sick or in prison and visit you?’ And the King will answer them, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.’ (Matthew 25:35-40)

The LEAST of these. Is anyone more helpless than an unborn baby? Poor women are also victims and often helpless too. Followers of Jesus must reach out with compassion to those who are hurting, whoever they may be. There has to be a better way.

Morning Gifts

Fred's new job has totally changed our household schedule. We get up very early. For the most part I relish the solitude and total quiet of the early morning. It is worth losing a little sleep to have this time. Recently, I was delighted to look out my windows and see beauty I would have missed if I was asleep. In the western sky at dawn, the moon was setting. My photos are not the best, but you can see the little glowing light above my neighbor's shed. On another morning, I opened the drapes downstairs and was struck by a rising sun setting the sky on fire out the eastern window. It was absolutely spectacular, but I just couldn't capture it well on camera. We have snow on the ground, but I put on my boots and bundled up and ran out to get a picture. Then as the sun rose higher, the sky was even more beautiful and larger in scope. I considered gearing up again to go outside for another shot, but figured it wouldn't turn out. Some things are best just enjoyed rather than captured on film.

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January is half over. We are back in the full swing of things and that makes time fly. Liana has to take the California Achievement Test on Friday, so our school days have been full as I try to prepare her. Public school kids are required to take so many more tests and I'm sure they are better test-takers just because they get more practice. Liana knows her stuff but she is not accustomed to being timed or working in a large classroom with other children.

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Every weekend from now until June will be filled with sewing at 4-H. It's been a nice break (for me) but the girls are anxious and motivated to sew again. Alpha is starting again tomorrow night and once again Fred and I are cooking for another session. I let it be known this is my last time. A lesson I learned (or rather didn't learn) a long time ago is that you are given the time you need to do what God has called you to do. If you "don't have time" then you are probably doing things God did not call you to do. So I need to make some cuts.

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Today is a holiday, but my poor girls are hitting the books. I was criticized by a postal worker last year for making my children do school work on MLK Day. She would probably really be offended if she knew I let them have a day off from school on their own birthdays. Please don't misinterpret. We respect Dr. King and have studied his legacy. But I will set my own school schedule with my own children.