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As I stare into the blank space on this blog this morning, I wonder, "What will I write about this morning?" There isn't anything earth shattering that has happened between yesterday morning and this morning. At least not in this household and for that I am so grateful. In many households, earth shattering things have happened in the last twenty four hours. My heart bleeds for those that suffer. I answered the phone at nine o'clock last evening and it was my dear aunt; my father's only sister. To me she is precious beyond words. Her message was that an earth shattering had occurred in my uncle's life yesterday. The uncle of which we speak is the one that has had pancreatic cancer diagnosed for over a year and a half now. His expected days on earth are long over but we all desired to hang on to him for as long as we could. Uncle Bob was moved to a Hospice center yesterday when it got too much for his wife to care for him at home. He had been falling and while that was dangerous enough, Aunt Connie couldn't get him up without help.
My uncle has been one of my most important spiritual mentors. His example of a life lived as Christ lived was very powerful in my own life. His encouragement in our adoptions was invaluable. His influence on my life will live on through my children and my children's children. Each of my children knows how important Uncle Bob is to their mom and they also know why. Uncle Bob loves like no other human being I know. I will always recall with fondness the times we spent in their home. When it was bedtime, he called us to sit with the two of them and share some Scripture and pray. His prayers for our family were priceless in our ears and I'm certain in God's ears as well.
My heart breaks to hear of his deteriotion. No, I didn't get the book finished before it is too late for him to enjoy. I'm so sorry about that. I just didn't feel I could do a good enough job when I felt pressured to do it within a certain time period. I just wrote him and Aunt Connie a letter which they probably got on Tuesday. It asked a few details about their family which I need to finish the bio part of the book. The rest is so close to finish. I need to make one more trip to St Joe college to have one of the English profs there help me with something that needs fixing. He has done it before so I know he will do it again. Once that is accomplished and the info Aunt Connie will give me, we will be ready for the presses to roll. I regret not getting complete before his passing.
Uncle Bob had his 84th birthday on Tuesday. I'm glad I sent him a card. I'm even more glad that contrary to my usual performance on that score, the card was on time.
I pray the Lord takes him quickly. While his mind was still alert and vibrant, I wanted to keep him yet awhile but now, well, now, it is time to release him to the Father who will receive him with open arms and a "well done thou good and faithful servant, enter into the rest I have prepared for you".
Friday, November 30, 2007
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Little Things Mean Too Much Sometimes
As I said before, the last couple of days were blah for me. I'm almost ashamed to say such a thing as time is such a precious commodity. I praise God for every moment of life. Yet, I felt uncomfortable when I was out of my house and comfortable when I was safely in my recliner in the warmth of my newly holiday decorated living room. I kept wondering what the deal was. Was I upset about something? One would think I would know if I was or not. I had felt a sinus thing going on and I think I was a bit scared. Sinus things are not kind to me so I started Zicam immediately and have been at that faithfully every four hours in the morning to evening routine. I feel better this morning and think it may be licked. I praise God for that today. There is still some thickness there but it is much improved today and life is looking a whole bunch better. (BTW, Zicam cotton swabs work wonderful for me)
I drove over to church yesterday afternoon to deliver a couple of items to the church secretary. One of the ladies rather new to our fellowship was decorating the sanctuary. We chatted awhile and she shared the difference life is for her family since they began to live it God's way. It was a faith building discussion. On my way home I came to a three corner stop and noticed that the same bundles of plastic wrap we had seen on Thanksgiving morning was blowing in the wind. It was tied around three poles. Obviously the work of some teens out for a good time. It was apparant they had made a sort of barricade effect across the two roads at that spot. The fist time I saw it, I smiled because I was a teen once also and could imagine if I had had the money to buy plastic wrap by the roll my friends and I may have done the same thing. The "barricade" had been broken and now hung trails of plastic wrap over the three corners of the road. I decided it needed to be cleaned up so I parked my car and pushed on the hazard lights. I went to the first pole and tried to pull the wrap off the pole. No small trick. It was thick and very, very strong. I went back to my car and began to dig in the glove compartment for a scissor I thought was in there. Umph. No scissor. Then I dug in the console and found a foldable pliers that had knives in it. Hotdog! I took that thing and cut the plastic wrap with little effort. It was actually fun. I pulled all the stuff up to my car and loaded it in the hatch back. I was first going to take it home to put in our garbage can but soon realized our garbage can would not hold that amount of "stuff". So I turned around the car and headed back to church to dump it in the commercial sized garbage disposal there.
During my digging into the glove compartment of my car, I found a plastic bag. I pulled it out and lo and behold, there were two small soaps in the shape of Smokey the Bear. When we were in Yellowstone this summer, the soap had been folded in a wash cloth in our small cabin. It must have been the ambiance because that little bear soap became very important to me. Because there were two couples in one cabin, I went to the lobby of the hotel ( a special effort because it was very cold and a long way from our cabin) to ask for another bear soap so that each of us could have that memento. The lady behind the counter generously provided me two bear soaps in a plastic bag. I put those two in the glove compartment thinking I had a treasure. I hadn't thought of them again until I found them yesterday. I chuckled when I saw them. I was so into those soaps at the time and since then, they hadn't been given a second thought. Now, what will I do with them. They are on my dresser at the moment. Noone but Ken and I have any sentimental value in those things. They will probably go into a dresser drawer and be forgotten until the next time I'm digging for something else.
That experience reminded me that often in life, I have become obsessed with the unimportant. Things that I should give little attention to, capture my full attention. The things I don't give much attention are due all of my attention. I think the apostle Paul summed it up when he said, something like this; the things I do, I wish I didn't and the things I don't do, those things I should do. I love the phrase, major in the majors and not in the minors. Good advice for all of life.
I drove over to church yesterday afternoon to deliver a couple of items to the church secretary. One of the ladies rather new to our fellowship was decorating the sanctuary. We chatted awhile and she shared the difference life is for her family since they began to live it God's way. It was a faith building discussion. On my way home I came to a three corner stop and noticed that the same bundles of plastic wrap we had seen on Thanksgiving morning was blowing in the wind. It was tied around three poles. Obviously the work of some teens out for a good time. It was apparant they had made a sort of barricade effect across the two roads at that spot. The fist time I saw it, I smiled because I was a teen once also and could imagine if I had had the money to buy plastic wrap by the roll my friends and I may have done the same thing. The "barricade" had been broken and now hung trails of plastic wrap over the three corners of the road. I decided it needed to be cleaned up so I parked my car and pushed on the hazard lights. I went to the first pole and tried to pull the wrap off the pole. No small trick. It was thick and very, very strong. I went back to my car and began to dig in the glove compartment for a scissor I thought was in there. Umph. No scissor. Then I dug in the console and found a foldable pliers that had knives in it. Hotdog! I took that thing and cut the plastic wrap with little effort. It was actually fun. I pulled all the stuff up to my car and loaded it in the hatch back. I was first going to take it home to put in our garbage can but soon realized our garbage can would not hold that amount of "stuff". So I turned around the car and headed back to church to dump it in the commercial sized garbage disposal there.
During my digging into the glove compartment of my car, I found a plastic bag. I pulled it out and lo and behold, there were two small soaps in the shape of Smokey the Bear. When we were in Yellowstone this summer, the soap had been folded in a wash cloth in our small cabin. It must have been the ambiance because that little bear soap became very important to me. Because there were two couples in one cabin, I went to the lobby of the hotel ( a special effort because it was very cold and a long way from our cabin) to ask for another bear soap so that each of us could have that memento. The lady behind the counter generously provided me two bear soaps in a plastic bag. I put those two in the glove compartment thinking I had a treasure. I hadn't thought of them again until I found them yesterday. I chuckled when I saw them. I was so into those soaps at the time and since then, they hadn't been given a second thought. Now, what will I do with them. They are on my dresser at the moment. Noone but Ken and I have any sentimental value in those things. They will probably go into a dresser drawer and be forgotten until the next time I'm digging for something else.
That experience reminded me that often in life, I have become obsessed with the unimportant. Things that I should give little attention to, capture my full attention. The things I don't give much attention are due all of my attention. I think the apostle Paul summed it up when he said, something like this; the things I do, I wish I didn't and the things I don't do, those things I should do. I love the phrase, major in the majors and not in the minors. Good advice for all of life.
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
A Satifying Evening
Okay, I'll get in here early today. How's that?
Our night at the Lagestee's was stupendous as usual. The hosts meet the guests at the door of this four stories of colonial beauty. Their grandchildren with smiles wide take the coats. The coats are put on numbered tables. Makes for a very organized method of obtaining one's coat at the end of the evening. The house is decorated to the nines for the holiday season. Everywhere one looks is another Christmas tree or another exquisite touch of garland or some other flick of the Christmas decorator's wand. Delightful. I guess most of us can only dream of being able to put on such an affair, but I'm grateful we are two of those who benefit.
The first order of business is to make out a name tag and sign one's name to the list of attendees. That makes sure of getting an invitation next year. The hostess told us they have had carol sings for twenty five years. I don't know how long they have hosted three in a week but this occasion is a great effort and one for which the attendees should remember to thank them for. We could make a choice of three different wines or many different sodas and then make our way to the music hall. A booklet of traditional carols lay on each of the chairs as we made our choice of seats. We were about a half an hour early. I was a bit embarrassed about that. When the man parking the cars parked us right next to the front sidewalk, I knew we were really early. Being early gave us the opportunity to choose the best seats in the house. I felt very smug being able to sit where I could see all the participants and the guests that steadily came into the room. We had not attended on the first night of sings before. What we found was that Tuesday night is the older crowd for obvious reasons. It isn't as busy which makes for getting around much easier. We enjoyed that benefit as well.
After the sing, everyone goes to the lower level to enjoy appetizers and soda. It is the time to talk with other guests. One of the ladies that sang a solo during the sing looked so familiar to me. I knew I had seen that face before. Later, I realized it was a face I remembered from attending my husband's home church before we were married. She had dated and married one of his high school friends. It seemed so weird to recall that young face in a face of a retired person. I chatted with her awhile and enjoyed "catching up" with her life. Ken and I decided it had been about thirty years since we last saw that couple.
Today? Normally this is Bible study morning but we were given two weeks off for Thanksgiving. Not sure why that was, but I wish it wasn't so. I will miss going this morning. Ken is going golfing today and figures it will be the last time until spring. I figure one has to be a die hard to golf when it is this cold. I'm not sure what the temp is this morning but last night after the program when we entered the car it was 24 degrees. I probably wouldn't have noticed but our daughter from Phoenix called us at that point and commented that it was cold there yesterday. I asked what the temp was and she said "in the seventies". Ha. That was when I looked at our outside temperture gauge. When I told her the current temperature, she decided not to complain.
So, what will I do today? Not sure. There are always things one could do. I could make cookies for a cookie exchange coming up soon. Or I could finish putting ribbon on my Christmas cards. That is really a two man project though. Somebody has to be there to put there finger on the knot as I tie the bow. Guess that won't work. I could make blankets out of some flannel I have purchased for a certain baby girl we expect in February. I could work on Women's Retreat stuff. That is something that is getting more and more important as the months tick off. Ah. Something will come to me that will make my day productive.
Hope yours is productive in whatever you do. Remember, Smile and the world smiles with you; frown and you frown alone.
Our night at the Lagestee's was stupendous as usual. The hosts meet the guests at the door of this four stories of colonial beauty. Their grandchildren with smiles wide take the coats. The coats are put on numbered tables. Makes for a very organized method of obtaining one's coat at the end of the evening. The house is decorated to the nines for the holiday season. Everywhere one looks is another Christmas tree or another exquisite touch of garland or some other flick of the Christmas decorator's wand. Delightful. I guess most of us can only dream of being able to put on such an affair, but I'm grateful we are two of those who benefit.
The first order of business is to make out a name tag and sign one's name to the list of attendees. That makes sure of getting an invitation next year. The hostess told us they have had carol sings for twenty five years. I don't know how long they have hosted three in a week but this occasion is a great effort and one for which the attendees should remember to thank them for. We could make a choice of three different wines or many different sodas and then make our way to the music hall. A booklet of traditional carols lay on each of the chairs as we made our choice of seats. We were about a half an hour early. I was a bit embarrassed about that. When the man parking the cars parked us right next to the front sidewalk, I knew we were really early. Being early gave us the opportunity to choose the best seats in the house. I felt very smug being able to sit where I could see all the participants and the guests that steadily came into the room. We had not attended on the first night of sings before. What we found was that Tuesday night is the older crowd for obvious reasons. It isn't as busy which makes for getting around much easier. We enjoyed that benefit as well.
After the sing, everyone goes to the lower level to enjoy appetizers and soda. It is the time to talk with other guests. One of the ladies that sang a solo during the sing looked so familiar to me. I knew I had seen that face before. Later, I realized it was a face I remembered from attending my husband's home church before we were married. She had dated and married one of his high school friends. It seemed so weird to recall that young face in a face of a retired person. I chatted with her awhile and enjoyed "catching up" with her life. Ken and I decided it had been about thirty years since we last saw that couple.
Today? Normally this is Bible study morning but we were given two weeks off for Thanksgiving. Not sure why that was, but I wish it wasn't so. I will miss going this morning. Ken is going golfing today and figures it will be the last time until spring. I figure one has to be a die hard to golf when it is this cold. I'm not sure what the temp is this morning but last night after the program when we entered the car it was 24 degrees. I probably wouldn't have noticed but our daughter from Phoenix called us at that point and commented that it was cold there yesterday. I asked what the temp was and she said "in the seventies". Ha. That was when I looked at our outside temperture gauge. When I told her the current temperature, she decided not to complain.
So, what will I do today? Not sure. There are always things one could do. I could make cookies for a cookie exchange coming up soon. Or I could finish putting ribbon on my Christmas cards. That is really a two man project though. Somebody has to be there to put there finger on the knot as I tie the bow. Guess that won't work. I could make blankets out of some flannel I have purchased for a certain baby girl we expect in February. I could work on Women's Retreat stuff. That is something that is getting more and more important as the months tick off. Ah. Something will come to me that will make my day productive.
Hope yours is productive in whatever you do. Remember, Smile and the world smiles with you; frown and you frown alone.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Ba Humbug
One would think I was taking a self awarded sabatical or something. I don't think I wrote yesterday and it is already after three on Tuesday afternoon. I've just had a couple blah days and wasn't really in the mood to share my blah with anyone. What is it that causes those times when one is just unsettled, not content, stressed (I like the old term better; nervous). I have no idea what is going on with me. Ba humbug, I guess.
Today I started to put up Christmas at the De Vries's. I suppose that is part of the problem. We are leaving the day after Christmas, will return around the fourth or so of January and then turn around and leave for Phoenix for a few weeks. When am I going to get all this stuff down and put away? Crazy to be worried about that now but I am. Once I get home from Phoenix I will be head, shoulders, knees and toes into the Women's Retreat effort. I can hear you sane people say; "Gayle, take one day at a time." I would yell back at you, "Today, I CAN'T do that!" I did make a concerted effort to slim down the decor this year. I don't intend to do anything in our family room or bedrooms. Forget it. Noone but us goes in those places and we can do without Christmas in those rooms. I am having our small group Bible study from church in a couple of weeks and of course, would like the main living area to look presentable, loved and expectant. I have most of that done thanks to my hard work of today so hopefully I can relax soon.
I should be in a great mood. Tonight is a very special Christmas party that we have been invited to several years. Our invitation comes by default but we are thankful to be invited. Our friend's cousin is part owner of a grocery chain. They have done well and each year at this time, they put on a Christmas sing three nights within one week. Tonight is the first night and the best night for us this week. One large wing of their home is a music room. It is phenomenal. It boosts of large windows on three sides floor to ceiling and a beautiful fire place. There is enough room for seating approximately one hundred people. A pipe organ and a grand piano are two of the room's focal points. They pull out all the stops, no pun intended. Tonight we will sing carols to those beautiful instruments. Each year they add to those trumpets, violins, harp, french horn and talented solo voices. It is a highlight of the season for me. Once I've experienced this night, I will consider my holiday well celebrated. The neat things is that we praise the reason for the season at this party. There will be no Santa and the evening will not hint at the secular. Jesus, Be Our Center.
So, with that thought in mind, I will change my nasty attitude and get with the real joy of Christmas. I guess I don't care if my Christmas tree is still up in March. We still need a bit of cheer in this house as we remember once again the joy of the new Babe of Bethlehem.
What is the highlight of your Christmas celebration?
Today I started to put up Christmas at the De Vries's. I suppose that is part of the problem. We are leaving the day after Christmas, will return around the fourth or so of January and then turn around and leave for Phoenix for a few weeks. When am I going to get all this stuff down and put away? Crazy to be worried about that now but I am. Once I get home from Phoenix I will be head, shoulders, knees and toes into the Women's Retreat effort. I can hear you sane people say; "Gayle, take one day at a time." I would yell back at you, "Today, I CAN'T do that!" I did make a concerted effort to slim down the decor this year. I don't intend to do anything in our family room or bedrooms. Forget it. Noone but us goes in those places and we can do without Christmas in those rooms. I am having our small group Bible study from church in a couple of weeks and of course, would like the main living area to look presentable, loved and expectant. I have most of that done thanks to my hard work of today so hopefully I can relax soon.
I should be in a great mood. Tonight is a very special Christmas party that we have been invited to several years. Our invitation comes by default but we are thankful to be invited. Our friend's cousin is part owner of a grocery chain. They have done well and each year at this time, they put on a Christmas sing three nights within one week. Tonight is the first night and the best night for us this week. One large wing of their home is a music room. It is phenomenal. It boosts of large windows on three sides floor to ceiling and a beautiful fire place. There is enough room for seating approximately one hundred people. A pipe organ and a grand piano are two of the room's focal points. They pull out all the stops, no pun intended. Tonight we will sing carols to those beautiful instruments. Each year they add to those trumpets, violins, harp, french horn and talented solo voices. It is a highlight of the season for me. Once I've experienced this night, I will consider my holiday well celebrated. The neat things is that we praise the reason for the season at this party. There will be no Santa and the evening will not hint at the secular. Jesus, Be Our Center.
So, with that thought in mind, I will change my nasty attitude and get with the real joy of Christmas. I guess I don't care if my Christmas tree is still up in March. We still need a bit of cheer in this house as we remember once again the joy of the new Babe of Bethlehem.
What is the highlight of your Christmas celebration?
Saturday, November 24, 2007
My Opinion
On our ride to Flint a few days ago, I paged through an old hymnal, one of a few that one of the ladies from our church handed to be last Sunday. The title was The New Christian Hymnal. The copyright was dated 1929. Once I started flipping pages, I realized I knew many of the songs. The decision was then made to begin again and count those that I could readily sing from the page in front of me with familiarity. It took awhile and passed the time as the miles ticked off under our wheels. When finished paging, I realized I knew 243 out of 451 songs in that book. That book was published long before I was born and yet I was taught the hymns collected in that book; a book I had never seen before.
I wondered what kind of significance my rememberance of those songs had in the big picture of life. What does it mean that my computer stored all those tunes all these numbers of years? When I add to those in that book to the additional ones I've learned since those days, it would be a phenomenal number of tunes floating around in my head.
Some things don't change as life gets more complicated. Music was taught to the Israelites to stick the words of God in their brains so that they could pass them on. Today we have the printed page and the printed internet :) We don't have to memorize things anymore and yet I believe our minds recall tunes.
The collection of songs in the book I was purusing were put together at a significant time in American history. l929 was the time of the Great Depression. People were desperate for financial survival. I'm sure that was felt deeply in the life of the church as well. I think the songs reflect that mood. Some are songs of lament while others are songs of battle. Come Thou Disconsolate is a lament song while Am I a Soldier of the Cross is a battle song. Lord Like a Publican I Stand and Out of My Bondage are songs of repentance and sorrow for sin. From Greenland's Icy Mountains and Far and Near the Fields are Teeming are both songs that have the great commission to spread the good news of the gospel around the world. I recall singing Come Thou Disconsolate at one of my grandparent's funerals; they died within a year of each other in 1952 and l953. I was only ten years old and yet remember fifty five years later that the words of the songs fit our sorrow at the time. My grandparents were both only fifty nine when they died.
My point in all this is two fold. One is that the songs we sing in our church life are significant for praising God but also for solidifying the word in our computer...even into our heart. It is important to teach children songs of the faith whether or not the song has a long history or is a new expression of praise. The other point is that songs written in a particular time period, reflect much about life in that era. Songs written today don't talk too much about somber things. The praise of God is lighter and with perhaps more warmth and thanksgiving today. I'm not sure everyone would agree with my analysis but I do feel we should remember that God is praised through His people and His people relate to Him within the context of their culture and political as well as physical lives. That means that songs written in the early part of the 20th century reflected the times in which they were written. It also means that songs written today, reflect our concern over our culture and a deep desire to live within the personal relationship we treasure with our Savior and Lord.
I wondered what kind of significance my rememberance of those songs had in the big picture of life. What does it mean that my computer stored all those tunes all these numbers of years? When I add to those in that book to the additional ones I've learned since those days, it would be a phenomenal number of tunes floating around in my head.
Some things don't change as life gets more complicated. Music was taught to the Israelites to stick the words of God in their brains so that they could pass them on. Today we have the printed page and the printed internet :) We don't have to memorize things anymore and yet I believe our minds recall tunes.
The collection of songs in the book I was purusing were put together at a significant time in American history. l929 was the time of the Great Depression. People were desperate for financial survival. I'm sure that was felt deeply in the life of the church as well. I think the songs reflect that mood. Some are songs of lament while others are songs of battle. Come Thou Disconsolate is a lament song while Am I a Soldier of the Cross is a battle song. Lord Like a Publican I Stand and Out of My Bondage are songs of repentance and sorrow for sin. From Greenland's Icy Mountains and Far and Near the Fields are Teeming are both songs that have the great commission to spread the good news of the gospel around the world. I recall singing Come Thou Disconsolate at one of my grandparent's funerals; they died within a year of each other in 1952 and l953. I was only ten years old and yet remember fifty five years later that the words of the songs fit our sorrow at the time. My grandparents were both only fifty nine when they died.
My point in all this is two fold. One is that the songs we sing in our church life are significant for praising God but also for solidifying the word in our computer...even into our heart. It is important to teach children songs of the faith whether or not the song has a long history or is a new expression of praise. The other point is that songs written in a particular time period, reflect much about life in that era. Songs written today don't talk too much about somber things. The praise of God is lighter and with perhaps more warmth and thanksgiving today. I'm not sure everyone would agree with my analysis but I do feel we should remember that God is praised through His people and His people relate to Him within the context of their culture and political as well as physical lives. That means that songs written in the early part of the 20th century reflected the times in which they were written. It also means that songs written today, reflect our concern over our culture and a deep desire to live within the personal relationship we treasure with our Savior and Lord.
Friday, November 23, 2007
Black Friday
Aha, the day after the day before. Even though our numbers were unusally low (14), it was a delightful yet busy day. I thoroughly enjoyed my kids and the grandchildren we don't see all that often. I am more tired now than I was last night. At 2:30 a.m., Scarlen called me on the phone. "Are you out shopping yet, Mom?"
"NO, I'm sleeping so I can get up at four or earlier and go shopping."
Turns out that she and Lynette went to the outlet mall in Michigan City (an hour away) which opened at midnight. Thanks, but no thanks. I have to have some sleep to function. I did return to sleep after Scarlen had me get up to check on Isaiah's shoe size. Ugh. Not happy. I woke about 3:45 and left a little after four.
I had no agenda. That is the best way to go. If I find something I can't live without, I buy it. If I don't see any fantastic deals, I go home. While at Kohl's I met our good friends, Jim and Linda and from then on we were a trio. Good thing, because once I got the things I needed from Carson's I couldn't have carried them without help. Heavy. Bless that Jim's heart. I ended up with eight big towels. Normal price per towel; $10; today's price; 4 for $10. Can only gain on those types of deals. I also picked up a new crock pot (working on turkey soup at the moment) normally $50.00 for $20.00 and one for Lauri too. Basically, those were my deals. After we all went to Menards, Joanns, and Kmart, we parted ways and I came home.
Once home, Ken and I began to talk cameras. We looked on line and thought we could get one of the deals via online shopping. Nope, they put blackouts on all the super specials. So, back to Merrillville we went together. We found a very nice camera and I'm thrilled. The battery pack is charging and I can't wait until the light turns green so I can practice. The memory stick holds over 4000 pictures. Technology is truly amazing.
Days like this show us two sides of humanity. Black Friday shopping isn't for sissys. One has to have patience plus. I love to go but there aren't many I know that share my enthusiasm. I enjoyed my enteraction with the people standing in long lines with me. I have some new friends though I don't know their names. Diversity was part of the enjoyment; people from all ethnic groups including my own. I had a ball. It is always my goal to help people enjoy Black Friday. A huge smile, a "let me help you with that" both go a long way in making the day an enjoyable one for others and for me. All in all, the ratio was 50 happy people to 1 crouch. One would love to say to a crouch, "Honey, you aren't cut out for this day. Do us all a favor and go home with your misery".
Yes, I'm a little crazy, but you already knew that.
"NO, I'm sleeping so I can get up at four or earlier and go shopping."
Turns out that she and Lynette went to the outlet mall in Michigan City (an hour away) which opened at midnight. Thanks, but no thanks. I have to have some sleep to function. I did return to sleep after Scarlen had me get up to check on Isaiah's shoe size. Ugh. Not happy. I woke about 3:45 and left a little after four.
I had no agenda. That is the best way to go. If I find something I can't live without, I buy it. If I don't see any fantastic deals, I go home. While at Kohl's I met our good friends, Jim and Linda and from then on we were a trio. Good thing, because once I got the things I needed from Carson's I couldn't have carried them without help. Heavy. Bless that Jim's heart. I ended up with eight big towels. Normal price per towel; $10; today's price; 4 for $10. Can only gain on those types of deals. I also picked up a new crock pot (working on turkey soup at the moment) normally $50.00 for $20.00 and one for Lauri too. Basically, those were my deals. After we all went to Menards, Joanns, and Kmart, we parted ways and I came home.
Once home, Ken and I began to talk cameras. We looked on line and thought we could get one of the deals via online shopping. Nope, they put blackouts on all the super specials. So, back to Merrillville we went together. We found a very nice camera and I'm thrilled. The battery pack is charging and I can't wait until the light turns green so I can practice. The memory stick holds over 4000 pictures. Technology is truly amazing.
Days like this show us two sides of humanity. Black Friday shopping isn't for sissys. One has to have patience plus. I love to go but there aren't many I know that share my enthusiasm. I enjoyed my enteraction with the people standing in long lines with me. I have some new friends though I don't know their names. Diversity was part of the enjoyment; people from all ethnic groups including my own. I had a ball. It is always my goal to help people enjoy Black Friday. A huge smile, a "let me help you with that" both go a long way in making the day an enjoyable one for others and for me. All in all, the ratio was 50 happy people to 1 crouch. One would love to say to a crouch, "Honey, you aren't cut out for this day. Do us all a favor and go home with your misery".
Yes, I'm a little crazy, but you already knew that.
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Happy Thanksgiving
It's Thanksgiving morning; six o'clock. The turkey is stuffed and in the oven. I'm not smelling the wafts of wonderful yet but they are sure to come. I think Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. There is no expectation except a good meal and I can do that without a whole lot of effort. What's to making turkey, mashed potatoes, creamed cauliflower, fresh green beans, twice baked sweet potatoes, fresh cranberry relish, and wonderful rolls from Great Harvest Bread store? Those are just the things I have ready and the guests are sure to bring their contributions. I don't think we will starve today, or any day for that matter. We are the most blessed people on the face of the earth and sometimes we are the biggest complainers and whiners.
Last evening I went to Merrillville (my favorite place; I know, you're getting sick of hearing about it) with Scarlen and her friend Lynette. Lynette has lived with us about fifteen months now. At this point she is just another cherished member of the family. Good kid and always, always kind and respectful to me. In days gone by, that was a true life saver.
I asked the girls to drop me off at Costco and get me when they were finished looking at J.C.Pennys for "grown-up" clothes for the holidays and for job interviewing. Two and a half hours later, as the employees of Costco were beginning to wonder if I was up to something as I busied myself with eating a hot dog, returning into the store a couple of times and just plain sitting at a table in their snack shop, the girls returned for me. I told them I felt abandoned. They had in their car the fruits upon their labors; several outfits each. When we got home, they had to model for me. Scarlen is twenty eight years old and has dressed as a teenager since before she became one. Suddenly, I have a daughter who wants to look the part of an adult, which she is. As she was modeling one of her outfits, she pulled her top over a tatoo she got many years ago. At the time of her decision to get that thing put on, I nearly died of disappointment. Why would anyone mark their body, especially in a place that was going to show with every shirt except a turtle neck? Obviously, we had disagreements about tatoos for years. Suddenly, Lynette, says, "Oh Mom! I forgot to tell you! When we were in the dressing room trying on clothes, Scarlen said, 'My mom was right, I hate this thing'". We all, including Scarlen, had a rip roaring laugh over that. BUT, today on Thanksgiving day, I'm not so thankful Scarlen thinks I was right, but I'm delighted that she has the respect for herself that wishes that thing were off her. We talked about getting it taken off. She said she is afraid of the pain. I reminded her she wasn't afraid of the pain of having it put on. Well, she will think about it. I think the plan has been born.
Snow was in the forcast for overnight and this morning. I've looked outside. Nothing. For which I am thankful. I don't like the kids trying to get here when the roads are treacherous. God bless all those that travel this morning and bless our day with joy in each other. Happy Thanksgiving to all of you. Remember, we have nothing that is ours. Everything we have and are is from our gracious Father in heaven. Even the very breath we take is a gift. Thank Him for it today.
Last evening I went to Merrillville (my favorite place; I know, you're getting sick of hearing about it) with Scarlen and her friend Lynette. Lynette has lived with us about fifteen months now. At this point she is just another cherished member of the family. Good kid and always, always kind and respectful to me. In days gone by, that was a true life saver.
I asked the girls to drop me off at Costco and get me when they were finished looking at J.C.Pennys for "grown-up" clothes for the holidays and for job interviewing. Two and a half hours later, as the employees of Costco were beginning to wonder if I was up to something as I busied myself with eating a hot dog, returning into the store a couple of times and just plain sitting at a table in their snack shop, the girls returned for me. I told them I felt abandoned. They had in their car the fruits upon their labors; several outfits each. When we got home, they had to model for me. Scarlen is twenty eight years old and has dressed as a teenager since before she became one. Suddenly, I have a daughter who wants to look the part of an adult, which she is. As she was modeling one of her outfits, she pulled her top over a tatoo she got many years ago. At the time of her decision to get that thing put on, I nearly died of disappointment. Why would anyone mark their body, especially in a place that was going to show with every shirt except a turtle neck? Obviously, we had disagreements about tatoos for years. Suddenly, Lynette, says, "Oh Mom! I forgot to tell you! When we were in the dressing room trying on clothes, Scarlen said, 'My mom was right, I hate this thing'". We all, including Scarlen, had a rip roaring laugh over that. BUT, today on Thanksgiving day, I'm not so thankful Scarlen thinks I was right, but I'm delighted that she has the respect for herself that wishes that thing were off her. We talked about getting it taken off. She said she is afraid of the pain. I reminded her she wasn't afraid of the pain of having it put on. Well, she will think about it. I think the plan has been born.
Snow was in the forcast for overnight and this morning. I've looked outside. Nothing. For which I am thankful. I don't like the kids trying to get here when the roads are treacherous. God bless all those that travel this morning and bless our day with joy in each other. Happy Thanksgiving to all of you. Remember, we have nothing that is ours. Everything we have and are is from our gracious Father in heaven. Even the very breath we take is a gift. Thank Him for it today.
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Lessons Learned and Learning
It was a very long day. Five hundred and sixty miles in all. Worth every mile. Leroy and Wilma didn't know we were coming so when we walked up to the door of her room #217, Leroy was busy talking to the room mate in the bed next to Wilma. One could see he was a bit taken back but jumped up and came to the door with arms extended. His first words was, "Oh you precious people came all that way to see Wilma". Then he quickly said rather quietly, "Now remember, Wilma doesn't respond in the same way she used to." I guess that was his way of conditioning us before we got to Wilma's side. Wilma by this point was lifting her head and saying, "Come a little closer, I can't see who you are." As I walked closer, she studied me until she suddenly blurted out, "Gayle". It was such a relief to have her recognize us without effort. Everything else for her is an effort. Her entire left side is immobile. It isn't paralysed as I thought, just doesn't respond to the brain order to move. Even when she laughs, which she did often while we were there, the left side of her face stays sober while the right side smiles. Each time she laughed I shot the Lord a message, "Lord you have said that laughter is good medicine. Please apply the laughter medicine liberally today and make her well again."
Eating is something very difficult for Wilma. It is an effort to bring the food to her mouth and it is an effort to chew it. She would prefer to pocket it in her cheek and leave it there. We talked about that some. I asked if they were giving her Ensure. She said they were and that she likes it at home but doesn't like it there. Leroy chuckled and said, "Well, at home I put ice cream in it and she laps it up quickly." I asked if they had requested that. Oh, no, Wilma said, they can't treat all of these patients with special requests. My thought was, "The fun they can't. Do you know how much is being paid to keep you here?" We did a little investigating and learned that she could have her own container of ice cream in a freezer there and Leroy could get some for her whenever she desired. Off we went to Kroger to get Wilma some ice cream. While butter pecan is her favorite, we felt vanilla was safer as there are no nuts to choke on. When we got back, the guys went hunting down some fresh coffee and I dished out the ice cream. Our little friend needed to have the ice cream fed to her, however, she scarfed it all down. She held her own coffee cup and it was obvious she was enjoying herself.
You know, Wilma and Leroy have no children that can plead their case or can make suggestions. I so wished they lived closer to us so we could flush out some of the problems and search for answers. I know their church people are wonderful to them but it is not the same as being family members who dare to take the bull by the horns. We aren't family members either, but I surely feel like one and conduct myself as one when we are together.
The rehab and nursing home Wilma is in is huge. The suffering that goes on there is also huge. We saw so much we would rather not see. TMI Too much information was the thought in my mind as I walked the halls. There were many tender sights I saw in the rehab section, though. Most of the folk in there are elderly. Many couples were walking the halls. One usually was in a wheel chair. While I walked the hall to a little alcove where the hall took an immediate left, I noticed a couple talking ever so quietly. She in a wheel chair and he on a love seat. He was bent way over into her hearing space and was sharing so tenderly with her. As I approached, he threw me a furtive glance that said, "This is a private conversation and we don't want to be interrupted." I walked by as quickly as I could. I thought about the lack of privacy in places like that. Each person has a roommate so there is never time alone with one's spouse. Even the couple at the end of the hall, could not find a place to be all alone. My heart wept for them. I know that in my busy household, there is a sense of relief when my husband and I walk into our bedroom at night and close the door. There is no need to lock it. Our family understands that one doesn't walk into our room when the door is closed. In that room, we share our deepest secrets, our greatest joys, our greatest fears and yes, sometimes, our deepest sorrows. At the end of the day in that room, we hug and kiss and reaffirm our love and committment to each other.
Another couple was walking past Wilma's room, the man pushing his wife in a wheel chair. They were both such attractive people. Both were pure white haired and he tall and straight as an arrow. As they walked by, she reached her hand over and up and placed it upon his hand. He lifted a finger or two and wrapped his around hers. She looked back at him and smiled a smile that he has probably treasured since their teen years. When she saw me watching, she gave the same "I got caught in the act" look that one gets when embarrassed. It was so tender and so precious. I just wanted to bawl.
Our experience yesterday was a good precursor to Thanksgiving Day. It was a reminder that life is swift and temporary. It was also a reminder to love one another with everyone one has for one never knows the future. When I awoke this morning, the prayer on my mind was, "Thank you Lord that I can get up under my own steam this morning. Thank you for the measure of health and strength that you so graciously give. Thank you for the people in my life that are faithful and sure. Thank you for your grace to endure to the end."
Eating is something very difficult for Wilma. It is an effort to bring the food to her mouth and it is an effort to chew it. She would prefer to pocket it in her cheek and leave it there. We talked about that some. I asked if they were giving her Ensure. She said they were and that she likes it at home but doesn't like it there. Leroy chuckled and said, "Well, at home I put ice cream in it and she laps it up quickly." I asked if they had requested that. Oh, no, Wilma said, they can't treat all of these patients with special requests. My thought was, "The fun they can't. Do you know how much is being paid to keep you here?" We did a little investigating and learned that she could have her own container of ice cream in a freezer there and Leroy could get some for her whenever she desired. Off we went to Kroger to get Wilma some ice cream. While butter pecan is her favorite, we felt vanilla was safer as there are no nuts to choke on. When we got back, the guys went hunting down some fresh coffee and I dished out the ice cream. Our little friend needed to have the ice cream fed to her, however, she scarfed it all down. She held her own coffee cup and it was obvious she was enjoying herself.
You know, Wilma and Leroy have no children that can plead their case or can make suggestions. I so wished they lived closer to us so we could flush out some of the problems and search for answers. I know their church people are wonderful to them but it is not the same as being family members who dare to take the bull by the horns. We aren't family members either, but I surely feel like one and conduct myself as one when we are together.
The rehab and nursing home Wilma is in is huge. The suffering that goes on there is also huge. We saw so much we would rather not see. TMI Too much information was the thought in my mind as I walked the halls. There were many tender sights I saw in the rehab section, though. Most of the folk in there are elderly. Many couples were walking the halls. One usually was in a wheel chair. While I walked the hall to a little alcove where the hall took an immediate left, I noticed a couple talking ever so quietly. She in a wheel chair and he on a love seat. He was bent way over into her hearing space and was sharing so tenderly with her. As I approached, he threw me a furtive glance that said, "This is a private conversation and we don't want to be interrupted." I walked by as quickly as I could. I thought about the lack of privacy in places like that. Each person has a roommate so there is never time alone with one's spouse. Even the couple at the end of the hall, could not find a place to be all alone. My heart wept for them. I know that in my busy household, there is a sense of relief when my husband and I walk into our bedroom at night and close the door. There is no need to lock it. Our family understands that one doesn't walk into our room when the door is closed. In that room, we share our deepest secrets, our greatest joys, our greatest fears and yes, sometimes, our deepest sorrows. At the end of the day in that room, we hug and kiss and reaffirm our love and committment to each other.
Another couple was walking past Wilma's room, the man pushing his wife in a wheel chair. They were both such attractive people. Both were pure white haired and he tall and straight as an arrow. As they walked by, she reached her hand over and up and placed it upon his hand. He lifted a finger or two and wrapped his around hers. She looked back at him and smiled a smile that he has probably treasured since their teen years. When she saw me watching, she gave the same "I got caught in the act" look that one gets when embarrassed. It was so tender and so precious. I just wanted to bawl.
Our experience yesterday was a good precursor to Thanksgiving Day. It was a reminder that life is swift and temporary. It was also a reminder to love one another with everyone one has for one never knows the future. When I awoke this morning, the prayer on my mind was, "Thank you Lord that I can get up under my own steam this morning. Thank you for the measure of health and strength that you so graciously give. Thank you for the people in my life that are faithful and sure. Thank you for your grace to endure to the end."
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
To Flint Once Again
In the last few days, I have received two rather desperate e-mail messages from our dear friend in Flint, Leroy Jolly. He is a dear man of God and I have spoken of him before in this blog. Last August, feeling compelled to visit because his wife and companion, Wilma, was failing, we spent two nights and a couple of days with them. We know them as former neighbors when we lived in the town limits of De Motte forty years ago. Our relationship has continued through all the years and experiences that have followed.
Wilma recently had another stroke and spent several weeks in the hospital and has now been transfered to a nursing home where she can receive around the clock care. One of the messages I received was that Wilma will probably not walk again or be able to use her left arm again as a result of this recent stroke. Rehabilitation is so painful and uncomfortable for her. One can hear the sorrow in Leroy's words and our hearts cry out to the Lord for mercy in their situation. Last evening, we called to talk with Leroy. He spoke with great confidence and faith asking us to pray for a miracle for Wilma. He mused over the good marriage they have had for over fifty years and the wonderful wife and friend Wilma is to him. At one point, he broke down and sobbed. Ken was on one phone and I on another. Our hearts broke for him. We feel so helpless to help him though we know our prayers for him and Wilma do more than we could do if we were there physically.
After we ended our conversation, we looked at each other and said, "Should we go?" Flint is a good five hour trip but there are dear friends there that need a hug and some encouragement. Ken had a meeting this morning and we thought we may leave after the meeting. That would make our arrival there late afternoon and we know that Leroy makes his visits from around 8 a.m. to 4 p.m so that he gets home in the light. We figured we may not get ther until after that considering there is an hour time change. Later in the evening, Ken came to me and said, "I'm going to change my meeting and we will leave right after we take Isaiah to school". So, in an hour and a half we will be on our way to see our precious friends. As a dear pastor friend of ours once preached, "When you go out to minister, take your towel along, there may be tears to dry." I'm sure there will be tears to dry today when we visit Leroy and Wilma. The comfort we give is small indeed compared to the comfort the Lord Jesus can give. We ask His presence to accompany us on our sad mission.
Road trip.......seems like there are many of them lately. Some of them exciting, some of them mandatory, some of them sad. Today is a sad one, but we hope to receive joy from the fellowship we will have with our brother and sister in the Lord. We will try to make this trip in one day. I praise God for good weather, good roads and a good vehicle. We are so blessed.
Wilma recently had another stroke and spent several weeks in the hospital and has now been transfered to a nursing home where she can receive around the clock care. One of the messages I received was that Wilma will probably not walk again or be able to use her left arm again as a result of this recent stroke. Rehabilitation is so painful and uncomfortable for her. One can hear the sorrow in Leroy's words and our hearts cry out to the Lord for mercy in their situation. Last evening, we called to talk with Leroy. He spoke with great confidence and faith asking us to pray for a miracle for Wilma. He mused over the good marriage they have had for over fifty years and the wonderful wife and friend Wilma is to him. At one point, he broke down and sobbed. Ken was on one phone and I on another. Our hearts broke for him. We feel so helpless to help him though we know our prayers for him and Wilma do more than we could do if we were there physically.
After we ended our conversation, we looked at each other and said, "Should we go?" Flint is a good five hour trip but there are dear friends there that need a hug and some encouragement. Ken had a meeting this morning and we thought we may leave after the meeting. That would make our arrival there late afternoon and we know that Leroy makes his visits from around 8 a.m. to 4 p.m so that he gets home in the light. We figured we may not get ther until after that considering there is an hour time change. Later in the evening, Ken came to me and said, "I'm going to change my meeting and we will leave right after we take Isaiah to school". So, in an hour and a half we will be on our way to see our precious friends. As a dear pastor friend of ours once preached, "When you go out to minister, take your towel along, there may be tears to dry." I'm sure there will be tears to dry today when we visit Leroy and Wilma. The comfort we give is small indeed compared to the comfort the Lord Jesus can give. We ask His presence to accompany us on our sad mission.
Road trip.......seems like there are many of them lately. Some of them exciting, some of them mandatory, some of them sad. Today is a sad one, but we hope to receive joy from the fellowship we will have with our brother and sister in the Lord. We will try to make this trip in one day. I praise God for good weather, good roads and a good vehicle. We are so blessed.
Monday, November 19, 2007
Monday's Musings
The day is rather blah. The sun hasn't even peeked out of the clouds yet today and it is mid afternoon. I involved myself in some mundane housekeeping chores this morning, ; laundry including sheets from two beds. Tomorrow I'll do the third one from the main floor and the one the adult kids sleep in, well, they will stay dirty until they decide to clean their own sheets. It always amazes me how long some young people will sleep in the same sheets. YUK. I can't think of too many things that bring more contented pleasure than climbing in a bed made with clean sheets. The feel and smell make a satisfying combo. Love it.
After I had our home back in shape, I went to town to make a few pictures from my memory card. Seemed rather stupid to go to town for three lousy pictures but it helped my organization. Norma Glock, wife of Ken's biological cousin from Oregon, sent me three wonderful sets of luncheon plates and cups. I put them in individual boxes and took a picture of one set of each box. Those were the pics I had made this morning so that I could tape the pics to the boxes and then easily identify the contents of the box. It helps the people who help me rebox the sets after they are used at the women's retreat. What a job that is. I best not think about that now or I'll get cold feet.
While I waited for the processing of the pictures, I was standing in an aisle filled with Christmas stuff. Suddenly, Lauri was standing next to me with a hug to boot. She had seen my car at CVS and came to hunt me down. (Those sorts of things happen in a small town). She asked what I had found and I told her not a dumb thing. It is just more STUFF. She agreed and then suggested we go to get a salad from MacDonalds so she climbed in my vehicle and off we went. We talked of taking them to my house but then Lauri said, "Let's just pull up to the road here and watch the town go by". I laughed because I have often done that when I'm alone. I'll get a salad, pull over into the parking lot by the road and truly watch the town go by. Having been in this town all but three years of my life (two years in college and about nine months of married life until we moved here), I am sure to see the familar when I sit and watch. After our lunch was ingested, I brought Lauri back to her car and then went to the grocery store to pick up something for dinner. I didn't cook yesterday, much to my family's disappointment, but for tonight, there is a beef roast, potatoes, onions and carrots in the oven. Ken has already walked into the house and followed his nose to see what the aromas were coming from. I could tell, he is pleased. It is smellin' real yummy in here.
I often think of the sacrifice that Ken made to move to my home town. He contacted the mumps when we had been married about nine months. He developed a secondary infection and spent ten days in Christ Hospital. When his fever was really high, 105 or higher, he was placed on an ice sheet. I didn't really know Ken's parents well then but knew that Ken was the apple of their eye, being their only child. I think because I was so young (20) I was oblivious to the seriousness of his condition. I recall walking back to his room along with his parents from the cafeteria when his mother suddenly broke down. She was worried sick about her only son and I hadn't realized it. I recall feeling very uncomfortable not knowing how to respond to her. Ken's father did a good job of comforting her. I'll always remember that moment. Ken got out of the hospital on April 2, l963. It was a gorgeous, warm spring day. That is probably why the date has stuck with me all these years. His instruction from the doctor was that he couldn't go back to work for about six weeks. During that time, we came here to De Motte and stayed in my grandmother's home while she spent some time in Florida. It was during that recovery time that Ken fell in love with the country and this rural area. I'm not sure Ken's mother ever believed it was his idea to move here, but it truly was. Ken has become such a native by osmosis. He knows at least as many people or more than I do. He is so loyal to the town and the area. There is still some city in the boy but he isn't in the city any more. The best thing is that I was returned to the place of my birth and nurturing. I have been among the people I grew up with all these years. I am so grateful to Ken for giving me that gift. When I think about it, we could have ended up in one of the southern or western suburbs. That doesn't sound all that appealing to me at this point though I probably would have gotten used to that too. I love the life we enjoy here and thank God for a sane place to rear our children. To God be the glory.
After I had our home back in shape, I went to town to make a few pictures from my memory card. Seemed rather stupid to go to town for three lousy pictures but it helped my organization. Norma Glock, wife of Ken's biological cousin from Oregon, sent me three wonderful sets of luncheon plates and cups. I put them in individual boxes and took a picture of one set of each box. Those were the pics I had made this morning so that I could tape the pics to the boxes and then easily identify the contents of the box. It helps the people who help me rebox the sets after they are used at the women's retreat. What a job that is. I best not think about that now or I'll get cold feet.
While I waited for the processing of the pictures, I was standing in an aisle filled with Christmas stuff. Suddenly, Lauri was standing next to me with a hug to boot. She had seen my car at CVS and came to hunt me down. (Those sorts of things happen in a small town). She asked what I had found and I told her not a dumb thing. It is just more STUFF. She agreed and then suggested we go to get a salad from MacDonalds so she climbed in my vehicle and off we went. We talked of taking them to my house but then Lauri said, "Let's just pull up to the road here and watch the town go by". I laughed because I have often done that when I'm alone. I'll get a salad, pull over into the parking lot by the road and truly watch the town go by. Having been in this town all but three years of my life (two years in college and about nine months of married life until we moved here), I am sure to see the familar when I sit and watch. After our lunch was ingested, I brought Lauri back to her car and then went to the grocery store to pick up something for dinner. I didn't cook yesterday, much to my family's disappointment, but for tonight, there is a beef roast, potatoes, onions and carrots in the oven. Ken has already walked into the house and followed his nose to see what the aromas were coming from. I could tell, he is pleased. It is smellin' real yummy in here.
I often think of the sacrifice that Ken made to move to my home town. He contacted the mumps when we had been married about nine months. He developed a secondary infection and spent ten days in Christ Hospital. When his fever was really high, 105 or higher, he was placed on an ice sheet. I didn't really know Ken's parents well then but knew that Ken was the apple of their eye, being their only child. I think because I was so young (20) I was oblivious to the seriousness of his condition. I recall walking back to his room along with his parents from the cafeteria when his mother suddenly broke down. She was worried sick about her only son and I hadn't realized it. I recall feeling very uncomfortable not knowing how to respond to her. Ken's father did a good job of comforting her. I'll always remember that moment. Ken got out of the hospital on April 2, l963. It was a gorgeous, warm spring day. That is probably why the date has stuck with me all these years. His instruction from the doctor was that he couldn't go back to work for about six weeks. During that time, we came here to De Motte and stayed in my grandmother's home while she spent some time in Florida. It was during that recovery time that Ken fell in love with the country and this rural area. I'm not sure Ken's mother ever believed it was his idea to move here, but it truly was. Ken has become such a native by osmosis. He knows at least as many people or more than I do. He is so loyal to the town and the area. There is still some city in the boy but he isn't in the city any more. The best thing is that I was returned to the place of my birth and nurturing. I have been among the people I grew up with all these years. I am so grateful to Ken for giving me that gift. When I think about it, we could have ended up in one of the southern or western suburbs. That doesn't sound all that appealing to me at this point though I probably would have gotten used to that too. I love the life we enjoy here and thank God for a sane place to rear our children. To God be the glory.
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Visit to Kendra
I arrived on the scene in Kendra's classroom about noon on Friday. She had one class of fourth graders, two classes of second graders and two classes of first graders to see for the rest of the day. I enjoyed being a bug on the wall. Of course, all the kids were in wonderment of the strange lady in the classroom but Kendra did a good job of making them feel comfortable. I loved listening to them sing. It was so evident that kids love music class. As they listened to portions of music or songs they hadn't yet learned, their little bodies would sway with the beat as they quietly stayed in their places. To say that God created humans to enjoy music is very easy when watching their innate reaction to beat and sound. It was great joy to be in the classroom once again. Kendra's second graders are getting ready for their big program coming up on December 6th. Mom always comes for her special events and God willing I'll get to do that again this year. In fact, this time I can get there early in the day and help her set up and take care of kids prior to the start of the program. Formerly, when I left after school to attend the programs, I would be blessed to get their on time for the start. One time was particularly difficult. I hadn't been that way very often and some how got lost. To add to the mess, it was dark and rainy and as a result very difficult to see. I had one of my grandaughters with me who was getting very nernous about making the program in time. When we arrived at the school it was three minutes before starting time. That was way too close for comfort.
Yesterday morning, Kendra and her friend Kiersten and I went to a very large Christmas craft bazaar. While there were many wonderful crafts people and artizans there, I saw nothing that tempted me. I did get a few ideas and could have given a few, too. I can't believe that at one time in my life I was really into those things. I think by now I have enough STUFF that to add more makes me want to, well you know.
BTW, Craig's basketball team "sleep over" was not a 'sleep over". Tongue in cheek. It was called "boot camp". All the boys practiced all night with a few hours of sleep interspersed. I told Craig I felt better about boot camp because it didn't seem like a very manly thing to have a "sleep over". Craig was totally pooped yesterday after spending the night in such a manner. I think those things are totally stupid. Every one comes home exhausted and it takes days to recover their biological clock. I recall the condition of my children when they spent the night with a bunch of their friends. They were ugly when they got home and most of the time they didn't feel well either.
Today, I'm involved in the praise and worship team at church. Have to be there early so I best get ready. We have a busy service this morning so it will probably be quite lengthy.
Yesterday morning, Kendra and her friend Kiersten and I went to a very large Christmas craft bazaar. While there were many wonderful crafts people and artizans there, I saw nothing that tempted me. I did get a few ideas and could have given a few, too. I can't believe that at one time in my life I was really into those things. I think by now I have enough STUFF that to add more makes me want to, well you know.
BTW, Craig's basketball team "sleep over" was not a 'sleep over". Tongue in cheek. It was called "boot camp". All the boys practiced all night with a few hours of sleep interspersed. I told Craig I felt better about boot camp because it didn't seem like a very manly thing to have a "sleep over". Craig was totally pooped yesterday after spending the night in such a manner. I think those things are totally stupid. Every one comes home exhausted and it takes days to recover their biological clock. I recall the condition of my children when they spent the night with a bunch of their friends. They were ugly when they got home and most of the time they didn't feel well either.
Today, I'm involved in the praise and worship team at church. Have to be there early so I best get ready. We have a busy service this morning so it will probably be quite lengthy.
Friday, November 16, 2007
Impulse Number Two
I'm having a case of impulsion this morning. Kendra calls every morning at 7:30. This morning she said she was going to be alone tonight because Craig has a sleep over for his basketball team. (I didn't know boys had sleep overs :) She commented that Craig will probably sleep all day tomorrow after the night he will have. Sooooooo, I impulsively said, "So then, I should come up and we could have a fun night and tomorrow". Her reply was "Yes! You could do that". So I told her I had to hang up right then and see if I could make it work. I called Ken and asked what he thought. He told me to go and have a good time. I asked if he was sure, after all, it is the weekend. He was firm in his encouragement. He said he had tons of things to do so he would be busy the whole time. I must say that I have I have husband that gives me so much freedom and I am so thankful. He knows the kind of person I am and encourages me to be that person. I truly love him.
So the plan is.....I will leave as soon as I get this blogged and meet her at school. She loves when I come and sit in the classroom and I love to sit there and watch her in action. She is so good at what she does and I sit with my buttons popped. Well, figuratively speaking, of course.
Her last words were, "Now you know you don't have to do this so if it doesn't work don't feel bad if you have to call me to say you can't come". Fat chance. I love every opportunity to see my kids.
Yesterday, I worked around my house til around noon and then went to Lauri's to help her get caught up. I think she got behind when we had company for two weeks running. She hasn't gotten on top of things until now. We got some of the things done that have been bugging her and it was such a joy to be able to bring her a lift. She does so much for us and it felt really good to return the favor.
So, the world turns in the life of this common ordinary human being. The real deal is still relationships, both with the Father of lights and with those He has given me to love. I can't praise Him enough. Off I go into the wild blue yonder, flying high into the highway. I will enjoy the journey. Blessings to each of you today.
So the plan is.....I will leave as soon as I get this blogged and meet her at school. She loves when I come and sit in the classroom and I love to sit there and watch her in action. She is so good at what she does and I sit with my buttons popped. Well, figuratively speaking, of course.
Her last words were, "Now you know you don't have to do this so if it doesn't work don't feel bad if you have to call me to say you can't come". Fat chance. I love every opportunity to see my kids.
Yesterday, I worked around my house til around noon and then went to Lauri's to help her get caught up. I think she got behind when we had company for two weeks running. She hasn't gotten on top of things until now. We got some of the things done that have been bugging her and it was such a joy to be able to bring her a lift. She does so much for us and it felt really good to return the favor.
So, the world turns in the life of this common ordinary human being. The real deal is still relationships, both with the Father of lights and with those He has given me to love. I can't praise Him enough. Off I go into the wild blue yonder, flying high into the highway. I will enjoy the journey. Blessings to each of you today.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Christmas is the Giving
My friend, Cindy, called this morning and said she has nearly finished her Christmas shopping. I am usually an early bird when it comes to gift purchasing, also. This year, however, we are not buying gifts for our family. The family has decided that its Christmas gift to each other is everyone joining each other at our son's vicinity in West Palm Beach, Florida. We have a bit of family there and they have worked it out so that none of us need rent a hotel. That is just a wonderful thing. Now, each of us can go and not feel guilty about spending too much money. Aside from the gas and food, the hotel bills are usually the biggest hunk of vacation expense. I really thank my son and wife, my sister and my niece for moving over for the move-in of the De Vries family. We are looking forward to a good time had by all. Our daughters in particular seem serious about how often they can get all their kids together so that cousins know and love one another. As is in most families, it is the daughers that plan the family activities. On the other hand, Jay has been planning this visit from his family for over a year now and is pretty excited about it. Most of his siblings have not seen his home so he is eager to show them. He and Tasha own a beautiful big home with a pool and a lake in their back yard. Hopefully, the weather will be cooperative and the kids can take advantage of all those amenities.
This early morning post will be added to this afternoon. At this point, I must ready myself for my Bible study at church.
The Beth Moore teaching was awesome this morning. Her subject was the true church, the true body of believers. She exposed the weaknesses of denominationalism. What a minute, don't shut me off. She belongs to a denominational church. But she has her eyes open and sees the way we tend to begin to practice the laws and expectations of men rather than the expectation of God. God is looking for those that believe in Him, that have a heart for Him, that pant after Him as a deer pants for water. Quite honestly, he doesn't care a fig whether you attend church once a week, twice a week or less or more. It isn't with our church attendance he is crediting our account for righteousness. Each brand of church has its own list of rules and/or expectations. The longer I live the less I get excited about following man's list of rules. In our tradition, services are held both morning and evening on Sundays. People that come only on Sunday mornings are considered "oncers" while those that come both services are considered more spiritual. Oh, that isn't in black and white anywhere but those preconcieved judgements are floating around. One young gal had a busy October. She hostessed more people in one month than most folk do in a year. She heard via the grapevine that her lack of Sunday night church attendance was getting attention from a certain group of people. Now do you suppose that kind of guilt laying would encourage one's walk with Christ or cause resentment. I know what it does to me.
If only we as God's children would extent grace in the same way our Savior extends grace. Life would be wonderful and the message of the gospel would spread like a wildfire. I'm going to make an effort to be less critical, less presumptuous, less judgmental. I'm going to realize more accutely that God has His beloved in churches of all brandnames.
This early morning post will be added to this afternoon. At this point, I must ready myself for my Bible study at church.
The Beth Moore teaching was awesome this morning. Her subject was the true church, the true body of believers. She exposed the weaknesses of denominationalism. What a minute, don't shut me off. She belongs to a denominational church. But she has her eyes open and sees the way we tend to begin to practice the laws and expectations of men rather than the expectation of God. God is looking for those that believe in Him, that have a heart for Him, that pant after Him as a deer pants for water. Quite honestly, he doesn't care a fig whether you attend church once a week, twice a week or less or more. It isn't with our church attendance he is crediting our account for righteousness. Each brand of church has its own list of rules and/or expectations. The longer I live the less I get excited about following man's list of rules. In our tradition, services are held both morning and evening on Sundays. People that come only on Sunday mornings are considered "oncers" while those that come both services are considered more spiritual. Oh, that isn't in black and white anywhere but those preconcieved judgements are floating around. One young gal had a busy October. She hostessed more people in one month than most folk do in a year. She heard via the grapevine that her lack of Sunday night church attendance was getting attention from a certain group of people. Now do you suppose that kind of guilt laying would encourage one's walk with Christ or cause resentment. I know what it does to me.
If only we as God's children would extent grace in the same way our Savior extends grace. Life would be wonderful and the message of the gospel would spread like a wildfire. I'm going to make an effort to be less critical, less presumptuous, less judgmental. I'm going to realize more accutely that God has His beloved in churches of all brandnames.
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
The Mundane
Another beautiful fall day. This can't last forever, but it would be nice if it did. The bright sun on the colored leaves thrilled my heart again today. I noticed that one particular pair of sunglasses made the colors very vivid. I liked it.
I'm at home, fairly alone. Scarlen is home but she is taking a nap after starting work at four this morning. It was a crazy night for me. I slept well until I jolted awake. Thinking it must be around six in the morning, I was disappointed to see that it was only one a.m. Once my mind started rolling, I got up to work on getting things together for morning worship for Sunday. When I entered our lower level family room the lights were already on and Lynette, our permanent house guest was sitting on the sofa with lap top in hand working on her homework. She asked what I was doing and I told her I had homework to do, also. We chuckled together and then I got down to business. Our assistant pastor will be ordained Sunday so it is a rather special service which requires special preparation. I worked until three o'clock when Scarlen's alarm started going off signaling her time to rise and shine. As I crawled back in bed I smiled to think of the crazy schedule this family keeps. Lynette works late into the evenings at Christian Haven, a home for troubled kids. She doesn't get home until eleven thirty or so. So, the shower and the beds get very little down time here.
Isaiah has a basketball game in Crown Point this afternoon at four o'clock. I didn't think we would go but he asked this morning, "Are you coming to my game?" Why certainly, we are. Even though we have attended more middle school ballgames than we could count, it is still fun to watch the kids particpate in those activities. Their little personalities come out. One sees their nervous twitches or their concerned facial expressions. But the times they relish in the victories is priceless. The team spirit comes through strong as they high five and hug each other. That is a lesson well worth learning, most of life is a team effort as opposed to the "I" thing.
Tuesdays my daughter, Lauri, works. That kind of crimps my style. I think that is how she felt when I worked. I don't begrudge her a couple of working days a week but it is rather boring sometimes when she is gone all day. That is just pathetic, isn't it? I guess I've become pretty dependent. Lauri was talking to one of my nieces. The niece mistakenly looked upon us as being pretty perfect. Lauri laughed with her and told her we are just as dysfuntional as the rest of the population but we just have fun over our dysfuntion. That's my Lauri. She has inherited her dad's wit and her mom's sensitive heart. We see that in most of our kids. Thank you, God, for passing on the good stuff.
Kendra has a gloucose test today which she isn't looking forward to. No big deal, we all know, it's just having to drink that STUFF. I'm sure the test will have a good result and we will be happy when she is through with that one. As Ken says nearly once a week, "How did our children ever come into the world healthy?" Kendra follows the doctor's advice quite closely and nowadays they encourage pregnant moms not to eat lunchmeat, drink coffee or soda, and not to travel after 32 weeks. Her dad just grinds his teeth at all that stuff. On the other hand, I have always known not to eat lunch meat and not to drink the caffiene drinks whether or not one is pregnant. It isn't that I have been terribly strict about it but I know the facts, Jack. It actually thrills me that the medical people are finally beginning to get it. We are all entitled to our own opinions about those things. Ken pretty much stands alone in the family on those issues. Most of the rest of us put some stock in eating healthy.
I'm at home, fairly alone. Scarlen is home but she is taking a nap after starting work at four this morning. It was a crazy night for me. I slept well until I jolted awake. Thinking it must be around six in the morning, I was disappointed to see that it was only one a.m. Once my mind started rolling, I got up to work on getting things together for morning worship for Sunday. When I entered our lower level family room the lights were already on and Lynette, our permanent house guest was sitting on the sofa with lap top in hand working on her homework. She asked what I was doing and I told her I had homework to do, also. We chuckled together and then I got down to business. Our assistant pastor will be ordained Sunday so it is a rather special service which requires special preparation. I worked until three o'clock when Scarlen's alarm started going off signaling her time to rise and shine. As I crawled back in bed I smiled to think of the crazy schedule this family keeps. Lynette works late into the evenings at Christian Haven, a home for troubled kids. She doesn't get home until eleven thirty or so. So, the shower and the beds get very little down time here.
Isaiah has a basketball game in Crown Point this afternoon at four o'clock. I didn't think we would go but he asked this morning, "Are you coming to my game?" Why certainly, we are. Even though we have attended more middle school ballgames than we could count, it is still fun to watch the kids particpate in those activities. Their little personalities come out. One sees their nervous twitches or their concerned facial expressions. But the times they relish in the victories is priceless. The team spirit comes through strong as they high five and hug each other. That is a lesson well worth learning, most of life is a team effort as opposed to the "I" thing.
Tuesdays my daughter, Lauri, works. That kind of crimps my style. I think that is how she felt when I worked. I don't begrudge her a couple of working days a week but it is rather boring sometimes when she is gone all day. That is just pathetic, isn't it? I guess I've become pretty dependent. Lauri was talking to one of my nieces. The niece mistakenly looked upon us as being pretty perfect. Lauri laughed with her and told her we are just as dysfuntional as the rest of the population but we just have fun over our dysfuntion. That's my Lauri. She has inherited her dad's wit and her mom's sensitive heart. We see that in most of our kids. Thank you, God, for passing on the good stuff.
Kendra has a gloucose test today which she isn't looking forward to. No big deal, we all know, it's just having to drink that STUFF. I'm sure the test will have a good result and we will be happy when she is through with that one. As Ken says nearly once a week, "How did our children ever come into the world healthy?" Kendra follows the doctor's advice quite closely and nowadays they encourage pregnant moms not to eat lunchmeat, drink coffee or soda, and not to travel after 32 weeks. Her dad just grinds his teeth at all that stuff. On the other hand, I have always known not to eat lunch meat and not to drink the caffiene drinks whether or not one is pregnant. It isn't that I have been terribly strict about it but I know the facts, Jack. It actually thrills me that the medical people are finally beginning to get it. We are all entitled to our own opinions about those things. Ken pretty much stands alone in the family on those issues. Most of the rest of us put some stock in eating healthy.
Monday, November 12, 2007
One of Those Days
It's been a trying day. Being misunderstood and tongue lashed doesn't feel good no matter who one is or what age one is. All day I've been attempting to give the hurt to the Lord. It's funny how human it is to want to hold on to hurt. There's part of me that would like never to risk myself again. What is the point? Only to be hurt again? It is very strange how wonderful one can feel one moment and a few moments later feel as if the rug has been pulled right out from under one. What changed? Only the realization of what another thinks of one. My personality is a people pleasing one. I really like to have everyone happy. That is true within our family and our church and my greater arena of friends and acquaintances. There are a few people in my life that from time to time misunderstand my motives and my goals. It seems no matter how much thought I put into the matters that need dealing with, no matter how caring I try to be, it just isn't accepted that way. It would be easy to just give up. I've had to fight that temptation today as well as the temptation to "get back".
Tonight I had to run to the Word for comfort. The following Psalm was a balm to my hurting soul. Read especially verses 14, 18, 19.
Psalm 34 (The Message)
The Message (MSG)
Copyright © 1993, 1994, 1995, 1996, 2000, 2001, 2002 by Eugene H. Peterson
Psalm 34
1 I bless God every chance I get; my lungs expand with his praise.
2 I live and breathe God; if things aren't going well, hear this and be happy:
3 Join me in spreading the news; together let's get the word out.
4 God met me more than halfway, he freed me from my anxious fears.
5 Look at him; give him your warmest smile. Never hide your feelings from him.
6 When I was desperate, I called out, and God got me out of a tight spot.
7 God's angel sets up a circle of protection around us while we pray.
8 Open your mouth and taste, open your eyes and see—how good God is.
Blessed are you who run to him.
9 Worship God if you want the best; worship opens doors to all his goodness.
10 Young lions on the prowl get hungry, but God-seekers are full of God.
11 Come, children, listen closely; I'll give you a lesson in God worship.
12 Who out there has a lust for life? Can't wait each day to come upon beauty?
13 Guard your tongue from profanity, and no more lying through your teeth.
14 Turn your back on sin; do something good. Embrace peace—don't let it get away!
15 God keeps an eye on his friends, his ears pick up every moan and groan.
16 God won't put up with rebels; he'll cull them from the pack.
17 Is anyone crying for help? God is listening, ready to rescue you.
18 If your heart is broken, you'll find God right there; if you're kicked in the gut, he'll help you catch your breath.
19 Disciples so often get into trouble; still, God is there every time.
20 He's your bodyguard, shielding every bone; not even a finger gets broken.
21 The wicked commit slow suicide; they waste their lives hating the good. 22 God pays for each slave's freedom; no one who runs to him loses out.
I just got off the phone with my eldest daughter. She was sharing some family dynamics on her husband's side and simply said, "We will invite them no matter what. (Thanksgiving). It isn't for us to judge or to seek vengence but to show mercy and love". I didn't share my hurt with her but she ministered to me without even knowing it. I will continue to love my attacker as well. I must trust God to be the one to whom vengence belongs. Because my words are not accepted, I must trust God's Spirit to speak peace to the souls of both of us. Through it all, I sit up and evaluate my own actions and words. If it is true that I said the wrong thing, then God forgive me. If my motives were not loving, then God forgive me. Verse 19 speaks God's understanding to me and tells me He is with me and will salve my mind and heart.
Tonight I had to run to the Word for comfort. The following Psalm was a balm to my hurting soul. Read especially verses 14, 18, 19.
Psalm 34 (The Message)
The Message (MSG)
Copyright © 1993, 1994, 1995, 1996, 2000, 2001, 2002 by Eugene H. Peterson
Psalm 34
1 I bless God every chance I get; my lungs expand with his praise.
2 I live and breathe God; if things aren't going well, hear this and be happy:
3 Join me in spreading the news; together let's get the word out.
4 God met me more than halfway, he freed me from my anxious fears.
5 Look at him; give him your warmest smile. Never hide your feelings from him.
6 When I was desperate, I called out, and God got me out of a tight spot.
7 God's angel sets up a circle of protection around us while we pray.
8 Open your mouth and taste, open your eyes and see—how good God is.
Blessed are you who run to him.
9 Worship God if you want the best; worship opens doors to all his goodness.
10 Young lions on the prowl get hungry, but God-seekers are full of God.
11 Come, children, listen closely; I'll give you a lesson in God worship.
12 Who out there has a lust for life? Can't wait each day to come upon beauty?
13 Guard your tongue from profanity, and no more lying through your teeth.
14 Turn your back on sin; do something good. Embrace peace—don't let it get away!
15 God keeps an eye on his friends, his ears pick up every moan and groan.
16 God won't put up with rebels; he'll cull them from the pack.
17 Is anyone crying for help? God is listening, ready to rescue you.
18 If your heart is broken, you'll find God right there; if you're kicked in the gut, he'll help you catch your breath.
19 Disciples so often get into trouble; still, God is there every time.
20 He's your bodyguard, shielding every bone; not even a finger gets broken.
21 The wicked commit slow suicide; they waste their lives hating the good. 22 God pays for each slave's freedom; no one who runs to him loses out.
I just got off the phone with my eldest daughter. She was sharing some family dynamics on her husband's side and simply said, "We will invite them no matter what. (Thanksgiving). It isn't for us to judge or to seek vengence but to show mercy and love". I didn't share my hurt with her but she ministered to me without even knowing it. I will continue to love my attacker as well. I must trust God to be the one to whom vengence belongs. Because my words are not accepted, I must trust God's Spirit to speak peace to the souls of both of us. Through it all, I sit up and evaluate my own actions and words. If it is true that I said the wrong thing, then God forgive me. If my motives were not loving, then God forgive me. Verse 19 speaks God's understanding to me and tells me He is with me and will salve my mind and heart.
Sunday, November 11, 2007
This Old House
Thursday night found the seven women's retreat team members at the home of one of our memebers. Cheri lives in Rensselaer and recently moved to a home formerly owned by her parents in law. We have heard about this house and the excitement she had for acquiring it for at least a year now. She invited to host the meeting at her "new" house while conditioning us that it was a work in progress and not to be troubled by dirt and mess. Cheri grew up next door to us when we lived in town many years ago. I knew she wouldn't live with dirt and mess so dismissed her comment with, "whatever". Five team members carpooled in my van the twenty miles to Rensselaer. The house was easy to find using the landmarks she gave me. "Turn by the ice cream stand, go south two blocks and there we are." It was dark when we arrived. There was a corporate verbal expression of delight when we pulled in front of this huge white house. The wrap around front porch lights were proudly displaying the massive front of a two story house built in the late 1800s. With stone steps leading to an immense front porch flanked with large swing on one side and Adorondack chairs on the other, we got to the door. The front windows displayed a tall crystal container glowing with candlelight. Entering such a home is an experience. The sights, sounds and aromas bring one back a hundred years. Immediately questions come to mind. Who was the original owner of this grand house? What did he do for a living (we know it wouldn't have been a "she" in 1800)? Once in the door, the roomy front parlor stood proud with several six foot long windows, each pane beveled in exquisite beauty. The wide oak stairway begged one to climb it to see more. Not yet. We needed to wander the first floor. The second parlor was filled with a pool table. That was the only thing in the house that didn't lend itself to the time period. Once through that door, we entered what must have been the servant's quarters. Floor to ceiling oak cabinets lined two walls. The upper cabinet doors were long and thin and shining glass. Cheri is a lover of crystal and china so each pane in those cabinets displayed one of her crystal treasures. It was a beautiful sight. Through that small kitchen one entered the main kitchen. It was also large as was every room in this house. The back porches were the full width of the house and there were two, one on the first floor and one on the second. Both of them were closed in. We circled back to the room from which the candle light burned its beauty in the front window. That was the dining room where we would spend our evening discussing and planning the retreat day which will be February 23, 2008. Our tour guide then took us up that gorgeous stairway. At the midway landing, a window filled with stained glass in tones of golds and browns took our attention. Eventually we made our way through five or six bedrooms. Yes, some of them are still filled with boxes from the move. Some of them had wall paper from perhaps the sixties or seventies. To say Cheri and her husband have their work cut out for them is some what of an understatement. I think they will meet the challenge.
One of the gals called the place a castle. That is too cold a description in my view. Perhaps the term mansion would fit it better. The house is truly a treasure that speaks of history and nostalgia. I love it. I can't say I would be up to the challenge of getting it decorated and in some cases restored. It is going to take mega muscles and mega money to get it as they would like. I suppose in order to stay sane, they have conditioned themselves to know this work in progress will be a work in progress for years. I admire those that salvage and maintain historical buildings. Cheri's house is a dream house for many and I'm so delighted she is the recipient. Having lived next door to Cheri's family, I think of what her mother would think of it all. Dorothy would be in the thick of things. She, too, loved elegance and beauty and would be delighted for her daughter.
I now know where to go when I need my fix of nostalgia and glammor. I'll call Cheri and tell her to get the tea pot on for I'm coming over to just sit and let it all sink in.
One of the gals called the place a castle. That is too cold a description in my view. Perhaps the term mansion would fit it better. The house is truly a treasure that speaks of history and nostalgia. I love it. I can't say I would be up to the challenge of getting it decorated and in some cases restored. It is going to take mega muscles and mega money to get it as they would like. I suppose in order to stay sane, they have conditioned themselves to know this work in progress will be a work in progress for years. I admire those that salvage and maintain historical buildings. Cheri's house is a dream house for many and I'm so delighted she is the recipient. Having lived next door to Cheri's family, I think of what her mother would think of it all. Dorothy would be in the thick of things. She, too, loved elegance and beauty and would be delighted for her daughter.
I now know where to go when I need my fix of nostalgia and glammor. I'll call Cheri and tell her to get the tea pot on for I'm coming over to just sit and let it all sink in.
Saturday, November 10, 2007
Life is a Progression of Lessons
Instead of sitting in my recliner evaluating the cost, I thought I'd put my thoughts in print. I do this with fear and tripidation as it is rather risky.
This morning I have been tidying up the place. The laundry, while as complete as it gets in a household of five, has been put away. When I carried clothing into my grandson's room, I was reminded that most of my peers live with their spouses in their homes. They know nothing of keeping a household of five. While the adult girls do some laundry, they don't help much with the rest of things. They work and go to college so there is little time left for the mundane. It falls to me. Now sometimes I can get my nose out of joint about that. Self pity attacks and I run through a time of resentment. But this morning, I counted the cost.
When we adopted our children, we were fully aware that those dear children of God would be wounded by the mere fact of their need for adoption. It was our belief that if we loved them enough, all their wounds would heal. We adopted our daughter when she was seven. During her growing up years past seven, I did my best to mold her God's way. I pushed and prodded. I even thought I could accomplish the goal with physical or verbal force. Gratefully, I realized some years ago that was not going to work. Even though it was extremely painful, I decided to take a lazzefaire attitude. My hands off, Lord, and Your hands on. I could do nothing but let God take over and do what only He can do, heal her core and change her wounded heart. There were many times of doubt. I would wonder and even had people ask if we as her parents were doing enough. Yet each time I felt as if there was no hope, God would remind me of the assurance we had years ago that it was that He had a plan for her and it was to prosper and not to fail, to give her hope and a future. Yes, I would say, I had faith, be it ever so trembling.
At sixteen, she had a son. The brunt of the responsibility of this new life was left to us. Of course she was the mommy, but she was also still a child. Before he was born, I was a bit resentful. Hadn't I raised eight children? Wasn't that enough? Why would I be given more child responsibility in my fifties? What I found was the joy far outweighed the cost. The child is a treasure. The child helped his mother through the years that followed and he helped us through the years that followed. I'm not sure any of the three of us, Scarlen, her dad or I would have survived with out the collective responsibility and purpose of the child.
We have been Scarlen's parents now for twenty one of her twenty eight years. She is coming into her own. She is a joy to have in our home. There were dark days in between. Many of them. But joy comes in the morning, says the Word and our joy has come. Our daughter is nearing the completion of a BA in business administration. She has been faithful at a job for a couple of years.
More importantly, she is respectful and kind and has taken over a more mature responibility of parenting Isaiah.
There is no projected time line of the healing process in the life of a wounded child. I was thinking this morning that we have parented our daughter now the normal length of time that birth children are parented; twenty one years. Perhaps I expected too much too soon. Why did I despair so often. Why did I threaten to give up? The reward is far too great to have missed. I know without a doubt that there is greater joy to come from her in future years. Our prayer at this point is that God would bring to both her and Isaiah a man of faith who would love and cherish and care for both of them. If we would allow our selfish tendencies to flourish, we would want to keep them until the child reaches adulthood, but we know that wouldn't be our first choice for them. Before Isaiah was born, I read this statement, "If one has a child from birth to five years old, he/she will become what he has learned in those years". While I didn't like the thought of that in regard to all four of the children we adopted after the years of 0-5, I took it to heart over this new baby. I remember telling my husband's mother that my prayer was that we would have this little boy for at least five years. It has been eleven years now and he has been in our home nearly all of that time. The investment we have made in both of them makes their futures so important to us. I guess if we had to make a comparison of parental investment into our children, the investment we have in Scarlen and her child far outweighs that which we have made in any other of our children. Investment is measured here not in dollar bills but in prayer and desire; in emotion and effort. Very interesting seeing that all our other children were sought after, Scarlen was given to us unexpectedly. I think God had a special task for Ken and me in giving us this child of His. He was looking for people who had experience in loving children born to others. We met that criteria. He was looking for people who could handle disappointment and challenge. I guess we met that criteria, too, although that was unknown to us at the time. He was looking for people that trusted the outcome to Him. I suppose he molded us into that criteria, too. If He had asked us if we were up to the challenge, we would have resounded with a loud "NO". Yet, He didn't ask us. He simply placed her in our family and asked us to love this child. While she is still learning the depth and sincerity of our love, we are still learning the love of God goes beyond our understanding. Where did the love in our hearts for her come? Obviously from His throne of grace in our lives. God molds all of us in His way and in His timeline. I praise Him for giving us the gift of these two people in our family.
God taught me a long time ago, to hold my children in my hands with a bit of space between my fingers. The hand would not drop them but the open fingers left them room to be something God created them to me, not what I wanted to create them to be. I trust him with all eight of the precious ones he has given me and the seventeen and 2/3 grandchildren he has blessed us with. Praise Him today for those in your family whom you may not understand and with whom you wish to despair over. There is joy coming in the morning. Trust Him for it.
This morning I have been tidying up the place. The laundry, while as complete as it gets in a household of five, has been put away. When I carried clothing into my grandson's room, I was reminded that most of my peers live with their spouses in their homes. They know nothing of keeping a household of five. While the adult girls do some laundry, they don't help much with the rest of things. They work and go to college so there is little time left for the mundane. It falls to me. Now sometimes I can get my nose out of joint about that. Self pity attacks and I run through a time of resentment. But this morning, I counted the cost.
When we adopted our children, we were fully aware that those dear children of God would be wounded by the mere fact of their need for adoption. It was our belief that if we loved them enough, all their wounds would heal. We adopted our daughter when she was seven. During her growing up years past seven, I did my best to mold her God's way. I pushed and prodded. I even thought I could accomplish the goal with physical or verbal force. Gratefully, I realized some years ago that was not going to work. Even though it was extremely painful, I decided to take a lazzefaire attitude. My hands off, Lord, and Your hands on. I could do nothing but let God take over and do what only He can do, heal her core and change her wounded heart. There were many times of doubt. I would wonder and even had people ask if we as her parents were doing enough. Yet each time I felt as if there was no hope, God would remind me of the assurance we had years ago that it was that He had a plan for her and it was to prosper and not to fail, to give her hope and a future. Yes, I would say, I had faith, be it ever so trembling.
At sixteen, she had a son. The brunt of the responsibility of this new life was left to us. Of course she was the mommy, but she was also still a child. Before he was born, I was a bit resentful. Hadn't I raised eight children? Wasn't that enough? Why would I be given more child responsibility in my fifties? What I found was the joy far outweighed the cost. The child is a treasure. The child helped his mother through the years that followed and he helped us through the years that followed. I'm not sure any of the three of us, Scarlen, her dad or I would have survived with out the collective responsibility and purpose of the child.
We have been Scarlen's parents now for twenty one of her twenty eight years. She is coming into her own. She is a joy to have in our home. There were dark days in between. Many of them. But joy comes in the morning, says the Word and our joy has come. Our daughter is nearing the completion of a BA in business administration. She has been faithful at a job for a couple of years.
More importantly, she is respectful and kind and has taken over a more mature responibility of parenting Isaiah.
There is no projected time line of the healing process in the life of a wounded child. I was thinking this morning that we have parented our daughter now the normal length of time that birth children are parented; twenty one years. Perhaps I expected too much too soon. Why did I despair so often. Why did I threaten to give up? The reward is far too great to have missed. I know without a doubt that there is greater joy to come from her in future years. Our prayer at this point is that God would bring to both her and Isaiah a man of faith who would love and cherish and care for both of them. If we would allow our selfish tendencies to flourish, we would want to keep them until the child reaches adulthood, but we know that wouldn't be our first choice for them. Before Isaiah was born, I read this statement, "If one has a child from birth to five years old, he/she will become what he has learned in those years". While I didn't like the thought of that in regard to all four of the children we adopted after the years of 0-5, I took it to heart over this new baby. I remember telling my husband's mother that my prayer was that we would have this little boy for at least five years. It has been eleven years now and he has been in our home nearly all of that time. The investment we have made in both of them makes their futures so important to us. I guess if we had to make a comparison of parental investment into our children, the investment we have in Scarlen and her child far outweighs that which we have made in any other of our children. Investment is measured here not in dollar bills but in prayer and desire; in emotion and effort. Very interesting seeing that all our other children were sought after, Scarlen was given to us unexpectedly. I think God had a special task for Ken and me in giving us this child of His. He was looking for people who had experience in loving children born to others. We met that criteria. He was looking for people who could handle disappointment and challenge. I guess we met that criteria, too, although that was unknown to us at the time. He was looking for people that trusted the outcome to Him. I suppose he molded us into that criteria, too. If He had asked us if we were up to the challenge, we would have resounded with a loud "NO". Yet, He didn't ask us. He simply placed her in our family and asked us to love this child. While she is still learning the depth and sincerity of our love, we are still learning the love of God goes beyond our understanding. Where did the love in our hearts for her come? Obviously from His throne of grace in our lives. God molds all of us in His way and in His timeline. I praise Him for giving us the gift of these two people in our family.
God taught me a long time ago, to hold my children in my hands with a bit of space between my fingers. The hand would not drop them but the open fingers left them room to be something God created them to me, not what I wanted to create them to be. I trust him with all eight of the precious ones he has given me and the seventeen and 2/3 grandchildren he has blessed us with. Praise Him today for those in your family whom you may not understand and with whom you wish to despair over. There is joy coming in the morning. Trust Him for it.
Friday, November 9, 2007
Grandparent's Day
Yes, it is late on the ninth of November. One of my friends already reminded me that I haven't blogged today. It was a busy one. I was at DeMotte Christian School by 8:00 a.m. It was the biggest day of the year for our grandkids. It is called Grandparent's Day and they love it. My daughter said when she woke Mackenna up this morning she jumped out of bed with excitement and said, "It's Grandparent's Day!" This was my first relaxed Grandparent's Day. Prior to this one, I flew to school around 8:30 after I had worked an hour at the school where I was employed. Then I hurried back with the guilt of having been gone for a few hours. Today, it was pure joy. I loved it. We have five grandchildren at DMC. They range from first to eighth grade. We have two in sixth and one in fourth. After the morning chapel program, which was wonderful, I visited each of their classrooms. Each classroom was as happy as the other. There were smiles everywhere today and seemingly not a care in the world. Special days do that. They take the attention off the mundane or negative and on to the positive. Grandparent's Day is all about love. Love between the generations. When eleven thirty arrived, it was time to go home for the day. Because the kids had a half day they could go home with Grandma. When I turned the way to go to town they all knew what was up. Grandma was taking them for some lunch. The majority vote was Subway. Taking five grandchildren anywhere used to be a challenge greater than myself but now that they are getting older, the challenge was out of it and I could enjoy them immensely. We had a wonderful time teasing each other and loving each other. It was a good day. The pictures are on the net by special request. Kids love to see themselves in published pictures. The only picture I wish I had gotten was a picture of Isaiah and me together. He isn't fond of pictures so got out of it by saying, "you don't need one of me, I live with you." All the more a reason to have a picture but we didn't get one.
More blogging tomorrow. Am tired and ready for some rest.
More blogging tomorrow. Am tired and ready for some rest.
Thursday, November 8, 2007
Nothing New Under the Sun?
My grandfather used to say, "There is nothing new under the sun". Actually, I think that is an original quote from Ecclesiates. My mother used it often to refer to fashions. As "new" fashions hit the racks at her favorite stores, she would utter that phrase. She meant that what she saw there was just a modern take on fashions she or her mother wore in years past. I guess designers can only do so much with the covering they design for our bodies. My mother died young so imagine how an older person feels when fashions do their cycles.
I must confess that I have an innate desire for new. Now I don't mean that I have to have new things. It's not like that. I live in an old house, drive cars that are years old and enjoy the efficiency of a dish washer that must be 25 years old. We dragged it with us when we moved to this house and had purchased it used from a man that lived near church and died many years ago. My desire for new is a desire for the fresh and creative. I LOVE seeing new takes on things. I got my Martha Stewart Living holiday version yesterday. I love Martha Stewart even though she doesn't have a prestine reputation. Yes, I know she spent time in the fancy hotel none of us wish to enter but I feel like she was made a scape goat. I don't condone illegal acts, but throwing into jail someone like Martha who has done nothing for our nation but encourage women to make beautiful homes on a shoestring and be good hostesses is crime in itself in my mind. We need more Marthas. She has an interesting name, doesn't she? I had my nose out of joint when all that was going on. She has served her time now for inside trading (while drug pushers and murderers roam our streets). She is back in the saddle and showing the world her true colors. I think Martha is one of those people God uses who may not even know Him. I can't think of a more honorable goal for a woman than to make a comfortable place for her family to live and a warm place for entertaining guests. I know there are many other goals that are important but to me, this is a rather basic goal. It doesn't take a lot of time or energy, just some creative thought. Okay, I really got away from my goal in this blog for today.
At any rate, last evening, I sat in my green recliner while it vibrated away and looked through the latest Martha magazine. I look for things to do in my home that will make it fresh and beautiful this holiday season. I don't have tons of money to pour into any project but I enjoy finding one little new thing in her magazine each month. To my disappointment, I didn't find anything I felt I could implement this time. Seeing that it is the holiday issue makes it all the more disappointing. Perhaps the Lord is saying, "Gayle, you are going to be gone right after Christmas, make it simpler this year."
Martha was the person that got me started on collecting church plates. Her magazine featured them many years ago and I was bitten by the bug. I have enjoyed the collecting and found I could do that one or two dollars at a time. I don't buy any that have a big price tag. It's a matter of where one buys them that determines the price one pays. I now have over fifty of them. I so enjoyed churches. They speak core value to me. I love the similarities and the differences of the churches and the plates. I enjoy the histories of each on the back of the plates. Some of my friends have aided me in my collection. Cindy just gave me the first 22 karat gold plate that I've seen. I'd like to thank my friends who are always on the lookout. As one friend said last Sunday at church, " I like the hunt". I think I like the hunt, too.
My whole goal in today's writings was to explore the desire in me and others for change. I know so many people that don't like change, but some forms of change is something that I welcome in my life. It brings vitality and interest into the daily routine. It makes me keep up with the times (even though there is nothing new under the sun). Perhaps that explains much about the family we are part and the church we are part. One component in change that needs to be there in order for me to be inticed is integrity. Don't give me any phoney stuff, but help me get rid of the phoney stuff I've been hanging on to. That is why I don't keep any dishes that have been broken or cracked. A fixed dish is a phoney. I also don't want hostess sets that have been put together with a plate found here and a cup from a different set found there. No way. I want the authentic. The original plate with the original cup is my cup of tea. No pun intended. Some people call me a snob. That's okay. I don't mind sticking to my standards in spite of the judgment.
One of the reasons I love God's word is that it is fresh and new every time I read it. I forgot to tell you. There is one thing that is always new. God's mercy is NEW every morning. Somehow I think God understands my desire for new and fresh. He likes it too. So, now that I have rambled on and on about nothing, I will enjoy His new mercy for today.
I must confess that I have an innate desire for new. Now I don't mean that I have to have new things. It's not like that. I live in an old house, drive cars that are years old and enjoy the efficiency of a dish washer that must be 25 years old. We dragged it with us when we moved to this house and had purchased it used from a man that lived near church and died many years ago. My desire for new is a desire for the fresh and creative. I LOVE seeing new takes on things. I got my Martha Stewart Living holiday version yesterday. I love Martha Stewart even though she doesn't have a prestine reputation. Yes, I know she spent time in the fancy hotel none of us wish to enter but I feel like she was made a scape goat. I don't condone illegal acts, but throwing into jail someone like Martha who has done nothing for our nation but encourage women to make beautiful homes on a shoestring and be good hostesses is crime in itself in my mind. We need more Marthas. She has an interesting name, doesn't she? I had my nose out of joint when all that was going on. She has served her time now for inside trading (while drug pushers and murderers roam our streets). She is back in the saddle and showing the world her true colors. I think Martha is one of those people God uses who may not even know Him. I can't think of a more honorable goal for a woman than to make a comfortable place for her family to live and a warm place for entertaining guests. I know there are many other goals that are important but to me, this is a rather basic goal. It doesn't take a lot of time or energy, just some creative thought. Okay, I really got away from my goal in this blog for today.
At any rate, last evening, I sat in my green recliner while it vibrated away and looked through the latest Martha magazine. I look for things to do in my home that will make it fresh and beautiful this holiday season. I don't have tons of money to pour into any project but I enjoy finding one little new thing in her magazine each month. To my disappointment, I didn't find anything I felt I could implement this time. Seeing that it is the holiday issue makes it all the more disappointing. Perhaps the Lord is saying, "Gayle, you are going to be gone right after Christmas, make it simpler this year."
Martha was the person that got me started on collecting church plates. Her magazine featured them many years ago and I was bitten by the bug. I have enjoyed the collecting and found I could do that one or two dollars at a time. I don't buy any that have a big price tag. It's a matter of where one buys them that determines the price one pays. I now have over fifty of them. I so enjoyed churches. They speak core value to me. I love the similarities and the differences of the churches and the plates. I enjoy the histories of each on the back of the plates. Some of my friends have aided me in my collection. Cindy just gave me the first 22 karat gold plate that I've seen. I'd like to thank my friends who are always on the lookout. As one friend said last Sunday at church, " I like the hunt". I think I like the hunt, too.
My whole goal in today's writings was to explore the desire in me and others for change. I know so many people that don't like change, but some forms of change is something that I welcome in my life. It brings vitality and interest into the daily routine. It makes me keep up with the times (even though there is nothing new under the sun). Perhaps that explains much about the family we are part and the church we are part. One component in change that needs to be there in order for me to be inticed is integrity. Don't give me any phoney stuff, but help me get rid of the phoney stuff I've been hanging on to. That is why I don't keep any dishes that have been broken or cracked. A fixed dish is a phoney. I also don't want hostess sets that have been put together with a plate found here and a cup from a different set found there. No way. I want the authentic. The original plate with the original cup is my cup of tea. No pun intended. Some people call me a snob. That's okay. I don't mind sticking to my standards in spite of the judgment.
One of the reasons I love God's word is that it is fresh and new every time I read it. I forgot to tell you. There is one thing that is always new. God's mercy is NEW every morning. Somehow I think God understands my desire for new and fresh. He likes it too. So, now that I have rambled on and on about nothing, I will enjoy His new mercy for today.
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
One of the Joyces in My Life
Joyce and I met about thirty years ago. I was a trip coordinator for Holt Internation from Chicago to Seoul, Korea for about eighteen parents who were traveling there to receive their adoptive baby. I met most of my group in Chicago. Joyce was a very timid, frightened, insecure young women at that point. (That changed dramatically in her life) She had traveled no where and hadn't been on a plane before. She and her husband had a daughter at home and were adding a baby daughter by adoption to their little family. That trip and one prior had cemented relationships with many people with adoption in their experience. We had twelve babies to pick up. Most of them were from six months to a year old. The experience in Korea and with the adoption agency was most dramatic and it would take a year to write about that. But there was Joyce. Joyce got a little seven month old daughter she named Sarah. On our flight home, I was sitting toward the front of the plane attempting to recover from two weeks of intense activity and emotional stress. I heard a wailing from the back of the plane. The wail continued and continued. I will confess that my first thought was, I'm up here, she is back there, she can deal with it. When the wail continued to the point that our group's reputation was at stake, I got up and walked the aisle back to the rear of the plane. There I found an unhappy baby and an exhausted mommy. It had been twelve years since she mothered a baby and the emotional toll of the whole traveling and adopting experience was wearing her thin. I took that beautiful almond eyed Asian baby into my arms and walked the aisle with her. (Couldn't be done that way today) Who knows what was upsetting that child. Could have been separation anxiety after being taken from her foster mother, it could have been the altitude, it could have been looking into unfamiliar yet loving American eyes. The kid was upset. Having walked her while humming a Korean folk tune in her ear, she calmed down.
Joyce's and my mutual experience joined us as friends to this day. Yesterday about eight o'clock, the phone rang and on the other end was the voice of my friend, Joyce. She lives on the other side of the state and was traveling to the central part of the state to see her mother who is now in a retirement care facility. When Joyce's mother lived in her humble little home on State Road 37 in Fairmount, I would visit her with Joyce and we had sleep overs there. One thinks of children and teens having sleep overs but ours was a sleep over with all mature women. We had such good times and shared many laughs. I love her mom. It has been on my mind to visit her for some time, BUT, she lives two and a half hours from my home.
When I heard that Joyce was going to her moms, I jumped at the opportunity to meet her there and share a few hours with her and a lonely, elderly woman whose body won't do what she wants it to do any more. I told Joyce I'd talk to her in person and quickly hung up the phone and prepared myself for travel. When I arrived it was lunch time and Joyce and her brother and his wife were going to a local restaurant for lunch. I joined them and we had a wonderful time of laughter and warmth. After lunch, we went to visit Maxine. Maxine was so excited I had come. We chatted like old times and she was content. Later, Joyce and I took her for a fitting for new hearing aids. When we returned, the residents were headed to the dining area for their supper. Maxine didn't want us to leave in the worst way. She tried all the angles. She wanted me to sleep for the night on her sofa. She thought she should take us for a bit of food or at least an ice cream cone. Because Maxine isn't able to move quickly, it takes a great effort to get her somewhere and back. Having just returned from the doctor, Joyce wasn't eager to make the effort. Besides, there were heavy wind warnings and it wasn't pleasant outdoors. We decided like it or not, we must leave her. Her friends rallied to the need and surrounded her with hugs and grabbed her hand to invite her to join them for their meal.
As we walked away under our own steam, I thanked God for my mobility and health in spite of a few issues. I looked at all those dear elderly people and said to Joyce, "We have no idea what is ahead of us." She agreed.
Joyce and I went to her brother's home to meet he and his wife. We then went to a famous little restaurant in Upland called Ivanhoes. I have been there several times in the past and didn't realize that was where they were taking me. I was delighted to see the little restaurant that holds good memories. I had a fruit plate that was wonderful. After dinner, it was time for Joyce and me to part. She was to drive two and a half hours one way and me, two and a half hours the other way. During our ride home we spent much time on our cell phones sharing some things we didn't have time to share throughout our busy day.
I cherish the friendship our trip to Korea brought to us. Since that time, we have helped each other through very difficult times in both of our lives. I recall one very dramatically difficult time for me that went on for months. That was before e-mail and I would receive cards from her with encouraging Scripture verses a couple of times a week. Actually, during that time, she was one of the few people I had that was encouraging. I was isolated from my usual support group by difficult circumstances. By sending me those scriptures, she held out hope for me. It meant everything. I know that I have helped her over some bumps that she didn't think she could ride over also.
Treat your friendships as if they are treasures, because they are. Make time for each other even if miles seperate you and you decide at eight oclock in the morning that you are going to make the trip and leave a half hour later. What an impulsive woman I am. I hear many of you Amening that one.
Joyce's and my mutual experience joined us as friends to this day. Yesterday about eight o'clock, the phone rang and on the other end was the voice of my friend, Joyce. She lives on the other side of the state and was traveling to the central part of the state to see her mother who is now in a retirement care facility. When Joyce's mother lived in her humble little home on State Road 37 in Fairmount, I would visit her with Joyce and we had sleep overs there. One thinks of children and teens having sleep overs but ours was a sleep over with all mature women. We had such good times and shared many laughs. I love her mom. It has been on my mind to visit her for some time, BUT, she lives two and a half hours from my home.
When I heard that Joyce was going to her moms, I jumped at the opportunity to meet her there and share a few hours with her and a lonely, elderly woman whose body won't do what she wants it to do any more. I told Joyce I'd talk to her in person and quickly hung up the phone and prepared myself for travel. When I arrived it was lunch time and Joyce and her brother and his wife were going to a local restaurant for lunch. I joined them and we had a wonderful time of laughter and warmth. After lunch, we went to visit Maxine. Maxine was so excited I had come. We chatted like old times and she was content. Later, Joyce and I took her for a fitting for new hearing aids. When we returned, the residents were headed to the dining area for their supper. Maxine didn't want us to leave in the worst way. She tried all the angles. She wanted me to sleep for the night on her sofa. She thought she should take us for a bit of food or at least an ice cream cone. Because Maxine isn't able to move quickly, it takes a great effort to get her somewhere and back. Having just returned from the doctor, Joyce wasn't eager to make the effort. Besides, there were heavy wind warnings and it wasn't pleasant outdoors. We decided like it or not, we must leave her. Her friends rallied to the need and surrounded her with hugs and grabbed her hand to invite her to join them for their meal.
As we walked away under our own steam, I thanked God for my mobility and health in spite of a few issues. I looked at all those dear elderly people and said to Joyce, "We have no idea what is ahead of us." She agreed.
Joyce and I went to her brother's home to meet he and his wife. We then went to a famous little restaurant in Upland called Ivanhoes. I have been there several times in the past and didn't realize that was where they were taking me. I was delighted to see the little restaurant that holds good memories. I had a fruit plate that was wonderful. After dinner, it was time for Joyce and me to part. She was to drive two and a half hours one way and me, two and a half hours the other way. During our ride home we spent much time on our cell phones sharing some things we didn't have time to share throughout our busy day.
I cherish the friendship our trip to Korea brought to us. Since that time, we have helped each other through very difficult times in both of our lives. I recall one very dramatically difficult time for me that went on for months. That was before e-mail and I would receive cards from her with encouraging Scripture verses a couple of times a week. Actually, during that time, she was one of the few people I had that was encouraging. I was isolated from my usual support group by difficult circumstances. By sending me those scriptures, she held out hope for me. It meant everything. I know that I have helped her over some bumps that she didn't think she could ride over also.
Treat your friendships as if they are treasures, because they are. Make time for each other even if miles seperate you and you decide at eight oclock in the morning that you are going to make the trip and leave a half hour later. What an impulsive woman I am. I hear many of you Amening that one.
Monday, November 5, 2007
My Jesus, I Love Thee
Last night in church we sang a song entitled, “Trust and Obey”. The pianist told the congregation that she chose that song because it was her grandmother’s favorite song. Her grandmother lost her husband one year after their family immigrated to Canada. She was left with six small children whom she reared alone. Grandmother or Oma, as Thiersa calls her, testifies that because she trusted and obeyed God for all things needed in her role as mother and breadwinner, God was faithful. Perhaps it is the other way around. Perhaps because God is faithful, Oma trusted and obeyed. One could make a case for both.
The next song we sang was, “My Jesus, I Love Thee”. If I had had a microphone, I would have had a story to share about that song. My mother was very sick with cancer. It started as breast cancer and spread to her abdomen. From beginning to end, it was a seven-year fight. One of the treatments used was male hormone treatment. Once Mom began those shots, she lost her singing voice. She simply could not sing and she missed that. The last year of Mom’s life, she was hospitalized for three months. It became apparent that we were losing the fight. I spent most of each day caring for her during her last months of life. My family was young. Our oldest daughter was eleven at that point and much of my work at home fell to her. She was good at it, but now I grieve for her when I think of all I burdened her with. I remember coming home around dinnertime and seeing that she had begun something for our family meal. Her grandma was precious to her and she did much thinking about Grandma’s illness while she cooked and cleaned. She recalls one day that she stood in the dining room and raised her voice at God and questioned why he would be taking her grandma from her. It was a terribly painful process for all of us.
One day when I walked in the backdoor of my parent’s home, I found Mom sitting in her usual spot in her green chair. It was the same green chair from which she had enticed a frightened Korean son we had just received through adoption into trying his first American food. This time she wasn’t doing much eating herself. She said to me with a smile, “Listen, I can sing!” With that, she began to sing, “My Jesus, I Love Thee”. While I should have been thrilled along with her that she was able to sing again, I couldn’t bare to hear the words. I wasn’t much into listening to the following:
My Jesus, I love thee, I know thou art mine;
For thee all the follies of sin I resign.
My gracious redeemer, my Savior art thou;
If ever I loved thee, my Jesus, 'tis now.
I love thee because thou has first loved me,
And purchased my pardon on Calvary’s tree.
I love thee for wearing the thorns on thy brow;
If ever I loved thee, my Jesus, 'tis now.
In mansions of glory and endless delight,
I'll ever adore thee in heaven so bright;
I'll sing with the glittering crown on my brow;
If ever I loved thee, my Jesus, 'tis now
The words we sang tonight touched me again. I wasn’t terribly emotional over them as sometimes happens but the depth of the words considering her condition moved me. Jesus did feel her deepest woe and bore her sorrows, too. I wish I could say that at the time, I experienced the same grace as she did. I was still fighting. Fighting hard to keep my mom around for our family’s sake. My youngest brother wasn’t a child any longer but he had just married and it wasn’t time for him to be motherless yet, at least in my estimation. He would have children who would never know their grandmother. As it turned out, she had six more grandchildren after she died.. I’m not exactly sure how long after this moment Mom went to be with the Lord, but I do recall getting very tired of the fight of trying to keep her alive. It seemed no matter what we tried, it didn’t help her any longer. I recall attending night church one evening where I saw both of her doctors. I walked to them and said, “You guys have to do something; we can’t go on like this any longer”. The next morning when I arrived to care for her, my dad said she was hemorrhaging and that his call to the doctor meant that we had to have her transported to the hospital one more time. Mom didn’t want to go into an ambulance again. She complained about the rough ride and how uncomfortable an ambulance ride was for her. She finally agreed that if we would put a twin size mattress in the back of their van, she would allow us to take her. The doctor came to the house and rode with us. (Remember, this is a rural community and the doctor was a member of their church) Mom died in route. Jesus loved her enough to rescue her from the debilitating disease that she fought for so long.
The song always brings back the hurt just a little bit. The words are more meaningful and comforting with the passing of time. Yes, I can sing it with conviction now, too.
The next song we sang was, “My Jesus, I Love Thee”. If I had had a microphone, I would have had a story to share about that song. My mother was very sick with cancer. It started as breast cancer and spread to her abdomen. From beginning to end, it was a seven-year fight. One of the treatments used was male hormone treatment. Once Mom began those shots, she lost her singing voice. She simply could not sing and she missed that. The last year of Mom’s life, she was hospitalized for three months. It became apparent that we were losing the fight. I spent most of each day caring for her during her last months of life. My family was young. Our oldest daughter was eleven at that point and much of my work at home fell to her. She was good at it, but now I grieve for her when I think of all I burdened her with. I remember coming home around dinnertime and seeing that she had begun something for our family meal. Her grandma was precious to her and she did much thinking about Grandma’s illness while she cooked and cleaned. She recalls one day that she stood in the dining room and raised her voice at God and questioned why he would be taking her grandma from her. It was a terribly painful process for all of us.
One day when I walked in the backdoor of my parent’s home, I found Mom sitting in her usual spot in her green chair. It was the same green chair from which she had enticed a frightened Korean son we had just received through adoption into trying his first American food. This time she wasn’t doing much eating herself. She said to me with a smile, “Listen, I can sing!” With that, she began to sing, “My Jesus, I Love Thee”. While I should have been thrilled along with her that she was able to sing again, I couldn’t bare to hear the words. I wasn’t much into listening to the following:
My Jesus, I love thee, I know thou art mine;
For thee all the follies of sin I resign.
My gracious redeemer, my Savior art thou;
If ever I loved thee, my Jesus, 'tis now.
I love thee because thou has first loved me,
And purchased my pardon on Calvary’s tree.
I love thee for wearing the thorns on thy brow;
If ever I loved thee, my Jesus, 'tis now.
In mansions of glory and endless delight,
I'll ever adore thee in heaven so bright;
I'll sing with the glittering crown on my brow;
If ever I loved thee, my Jesus, 'tis now
The words we sang tonight touched me again. I wasn’t terribly emotional over them as sometimes happens but the depth of the words considering her condition moved me. Jesus did feel her deepest woe and bore her sorrows, too. I wish I could say that at the time, I experienced the same grace as she did. I was still fighting. Fighting hard to keep my mom around for our family’s sake. My youngest brother wasn’t a child any longer but he had just married and it wasn’t time for him to be motherless yet, at least in my estimation. He would have children who would never know their grandmother. As it turned out, she had six more grandchildren after she died.. I’m not exactly sure how long after this moment Mom went to be with the Lord, but I do recall getting very tired of the fight of trying to keep her alive. It seemed no matter what we tried, it didn’t help her any longer. I recall attending night church one evening where I saw both of her doctors. I walked to them and said, “You guys have to do something; we can’t go on like this any longer”. The next morning when I arrived to care for her, my dad said she was hemorrhaging and that his call to the doctor meant that we had to have her transported to the hospital one more time. Mom didn’t want to go into an ambulance again. She complained about the rough ride and how uncomfortable an ambulance ride was for her. She finally agreed that if we would put a twin size mattress in the back of their van, she would allow us to take her. The doctor came to the house and rode with us. (Remember, this is a rural community and the doctor was a member of their church) Mom died in route. Jesus loved her enough to rescue her from the debilitating disease that she fought for so long.
The song always brings back the hurt just a little bit. The words are more meaningful and comforting with the passing of time. Yes, I can sing it with conviction now, too.
Sunday, November 4, 2007
Colored Horizon
It's Sunday morning. Ken has returned from bringing our grandson to Sunday School or as it is now called, "Faith Walkers". When I rose this morning, the thought popped into my head that I had forgotten to bring retreat tickets to a key lady so I immediately got ready for the day and drove the five miles to her house. On my return I was struck again by the beauty of the trees. I don't know if in past years I was so busy with my work schedule that I failed to see it but this year has been particularly beautiful and the color has lasted for a very long time. Last week I posted some pictures of the trees down the road on which we live. Today, those trees are standing truck and branches with no leaves. BUT! Behind them, the slower to turn trees have stolen the show. There is every shade of color imaginable between green, yellow, orange and red hanging on those trees. In the middle of the fall colors stand the pines, tall and proud with branches of their forever green. The maples drip of golden yellow and the oaks; the oaks must be many different varieties in the woods around our area because the color is vastly different from oak to oak. Across the street from our house is an electric line. The trees on the other side of the line have been trimmed so that all their branches are the same length. As I drove up to our driveway, I smiled to see a section of yellow, then one of burnt red, then orange and then yellow again. Each section being a different tree yet grown together tightly.
As I drove past a blueberry farmer's place this morning, I noticed the straight rows of berry bushes, all in a hue of burnt or dark red. The mass of color was impressive. The harvest of blueberries is over for another year. The majority of corn and soy beans are out of the fields safely harvested. It's all indication that the warm weather is over and the cold is to come. I can almost see a carton of myself with a lasso around November 4, 2007 hanging on for dear life because I don't want the serene beauty and warm sun we have enjoyed for weeks now to leave us. But, hang on as I would, the cold will come. God has told us that as long as the earth endures there will be summer and winter, seedtime and harvest. The earth is ready to take a rest. Before we know it, the calendar will have again flipped to spring. Okay, Lord, bring the winter on, so that springtime will again come. We thank you that you are a dependable God and that you have ordered Your world in such a predictible way. And by the way, thank you from the bottom of our hearts that when the winters of our lives come, you restore us to springtime and show us your mercy again.
As I drove past a blueberry farmer's place this morning, I noticed the straight rows of berry bushes, all in a hue of burnt or dark red. The mass of color was impressive. The harvest of blueberries is over for another year. The majority of corn and soy beans are out of the fields safely harvested. It's all indication that the warm weather is over and the cold is to come. I can almost see a carton of myself with a lasso around November 4, 2007 hanging on for dear life because I don't want the serene beauty and warm sun we have enjoyed for weeks now to leave us. But, hang on as I would, the cold will come. God has told us that as long as the earth endures there will be summer and winter, seedtime and harvest. The earth is ready to take a rest. Before we know it, the calendar will have again flipped to spring. Okay, Lord, bring the winter on, so that springtime will again come. We thank you that you are a dependable God and that you have ordered Your world in such a predictible way. And by the way, thank you from the bottom of our hearts that when the winters of our lives come, you restore us to springtime and show us your mercy again.
Saturday, November 3, 2007
The Church Goes Forward
We have just returned from a retreat weekend for leaders in our church. I wasn't so excited about going. I guess I thought it would be the same old thing. I'm not even sure what the same old thing would be but I didn't have a very good attitude about spending a Friday evening and Saturday morning with thirty people from our church making plans for our future.
BUT! I was wrong, totally wrong. Our meetings were full of anticpation to see what God is going to do next at CCRC. First we met in a large group and were taught the difference of character in a small, medium, or large church. It was quite interesting and I could easily pinpoint some of the changes our church's growth has brought to the table. There were painful experiences and feelings I have had over some of the changes that I can now see as things that were uncomfortable but necessary. Later we broke into small groups and dialoged about what steps the Lord wanted us to take in this growth experience. It was so good to realize that everyone was on the same page. Most people saw the different issues the same way or similarly. That was encouraging. I am sure the Spirit of the Living God is alive and well at Community. Does that make us a perfect church? Far from it. We have our work cut out for us. In regard to ourselves, oh my, what steps we could take to walk closer to the Lord and recognize His power in our lives. In regard to those new who walk through our doors; judge not lest we be judged and love as Jesus did and does. I'm glad I was invited to attend. It gave new vision to my spiritual eyes and new loyalty to the church of which we have been members for twenty five years. God is good.
In our fellowship hall today a bridal shower was held for our pastor's daughter. I felt honored to be invited. Many of those there had children Nichole's age and so naturally were honored guests. I'm not sure what I have done to make me an invited guest but I do love Nichole and wish her the very best in life with her soon to be husband. Nichole is a beautiful girl with a smile the advertising industry would give its right arm for. When she smiles, which is most often, the world lights up around her.
My friends, Bernice and Joyce brought me home after the shower. Noone was home here and it seemed a good time to invite them for a cup of tea. We were fed well at the shower so no food was necessary and so we enjoyed tea for three. Our conversation flitted from one subject to another and we found ourselves saying, "No back to ......" I shared with them the joy of the leadership training meetings. We discuss many of the issues and they were thrilled to hear there was such unity of thought and purpose among the leaders. Our subjects then turned to things like the presidential campaign and our confusion over the right person for the job. Then we discussed the war in Irag and the confusing stories one hears about how that is going. Our thoughts turned to the needs in our families and the families of the ladies in our Bible study. After we had said several times, "we need to pray about that", we took the bull by the horns and bowed our knees to Jesus. He said to cast all our anxiety and burdens upon Him. That we did, making it very clear we need His wisdom and guidance. One thing that has become an important prayer in my spirit is asking God to bring truth in every circumstance to the surface. So we prayed that prayer over all these matters. It was a sweet time of communion with the God of the universe as the three of us invited His presence right at my kitchen table. God tells us where two or three gather in His name, He is in the midst of them. He truly was. I feel so light and carefree as I gave Him all those things that are beyond the scope of my ability to change. I trust Him to change minds of even the presidents and kings of this world. What an awesome God we serve.
Tomorrow, we will gather with the people of our church and worship God. We will lift prayers of praise to Him. We will learn from Him and we will cast again many things onto Him. When we cast anything on another person we feel we have betrayed him or her and given that person our responsibility. Just think about it. God tells us He is big enough to hold the burdens of the world. He doesn't want us to hold back from casting our burden on Him like we would hesitate to cast our responsibility or burden on our friend. He is actually honored because our doing that is obedience to Him. Responding in faith to God's directives will be accredited to us for righteousness. Yes, I learned that fresh again recently from Beth Moore's teachings.
Sleep well tonight......God does give His beloved sleep. He promised.
BUT! I was wrong, totally wrong. Our meetings were full of anticpation to see what God is going to do next at CCRC. First we met in a large group and were taught the difference of character in a small, medium, or large church. It was quite interesting and I could easily pinpoint some of the changes our church's growth has brought to the table. There were painful experiences and feelings I have had over some of the changes that I can now see as things that were uncomfortable but necessary. Later we broke into small groups and dialoged about what steps the Lord wanted us to take in this growth experience. It was so good to realize that everyone was on the same page. Most people saw the different issues the same way or similarly. That was encouraging. I am sure the Spirit of the Living God is alive and well at Community. Does that make us a perfect church? Far from it. We have our work cut out for us. In regard to ourselves, oh my, what steps we could take to walk closer to the Lord and recognize His power in our lives. In regard to those new who walk through our doors; judge not lest we be judged and love as Jesus did and does. I'm glad I was invited to attend. It gave new vision to my spiritual eyes and new loyalty to the church of which we have been members for twenty five years. God is good.
In our fellowship hall today a bridal shower was held for our pastor's daughter. I felt honored to be invited. Many of those there had children Nichole's age and so naturally were honored guests. I'm not sure what I have done to make me an invited guest but I do love Nichole and wish her the very best in life with her soon to be husband. Nichole is a beautiful girl with a smile the advertising industry would give its right arm for. When she smiles, which is most often, the world lights up around her.
My friends, Bernice and Joyce brought me home after the shower. Noone was home here and it seemed a good time to invite them for a cup of tea. We were fed well at the shower so no food was necessary and so we enjoyed tea for three. Our conversation flitted from one subject to another and we found ourselves saying, "No back to ......" I shared with them the joy of the leadership training meetings. We discuss many of the issues and they were thrilled to hear there was such unity of thought and purpose among the leaders. Our subjects then turned to things like the presidential campaign and our confusion over the right person for the job. Then we discussed the war in Irag and the confusing stories one hears about how that is going. Our thoughts turned to the needs in our families and the families of the ladies in our Bible study. After we had said several times, "we need to pray about that", we took the bull by the horns and bowed our knees to Jesus. He said to cast all our anxiety and burdens upon Him. That we did, making it very clear we need His wisdom and guidance. One thing that has become an important prayer in my spirit is asking God to bring truth in every circumstance to the surface. So we prayed that prayer over all these matters. It was a sweet time of communion with the God of the universe as the three of us invited His presence right at my kitchen table. God tells us where two or three gather in His name, He is in the midst of them. He truly was. I feel so light and carefree as I gave Him all those things that are beyond the scope of my ability to change. I trust Him to change minds of even the presidents and kings of this world. What an awesome God we serve.
Tomorrow, we will gather with the people of our church and worship God. We will lift prayers of praise to Him. We will learn from Him and we will cast again many things onto Him. When we cast anything on another person we feel we have betrayed him or her and given that person our responsibility. Just think about it. God tells us He is big enough to hold the burdens of the world. He doesn't want us to hold back from casting our burden on Him like we would hesitate to cast our responsibility or burden on our friend. He is actually honored because our doing that is obedience to Him. Responding in faith to God's directives will be accredited to us for righteousness. Yes, I learned that fresh again recently from Beth Moore's teachings.
Sleep well tonight......God does give His beloved sleep. He promised.
Friday, November 2, 2007
Friends in All Places
Husbands of two of my friends have gone to Mississippi to work toward rebuilding roofs damaged from Hurricane Katrina. They will be gone for ten days. A long time for two wives to sit alone at night. Last evening when I realized I had way more chicken in the oven than what we would eat, I called each of them and invited them for dinner. Ken was outnumbered 3-1 at the dinner table. He didn't seem to mind a bit. These people are life long friends and I am confident he feels as comfortable with the women as he does with the men. We enjoyed a nice visit and then off they went to their homes to sleep in an empty bed. I can only imagine what a widow feels when she first has to climb into a bed alone. That reminds me of our friends in Flint Michigan. Leroy is a Baptist minister in his eighties. Wilma, his wife of over fifty years has recently had a second stroke. She has been in the hospital for several days and Leroy doesn't leave her side. The hospital staff brings in a cot and he sleeps next to her side. Leroy called yesterday to tell us that Wilma's stroke had done some severe damage and the doctors have recommended they put her in a nursing home. I could hear the pain in his voice and words. A more loving man one would not find and he has been caring for her for months now. He told the story that when the doctor gave him the recommendation, he began to break down. The doctor told him not to get emotional. Leroy said, "I told him that she has been my wife for fifty seven years and you tell me not to get emotional?" My heart bled for both of them. Wilma can't speak well now and so is very frustrated at not being able to express herself and her desires. She did manage to tell Leroy she wanted to go home and have Hospice come. I'm sure her desire is to just kiss him goodbye and go to Jesus. If only it would be that soon and she wouldn't have to spend time in a nursing home.
We went to see Leroy and Wilma in August. I felt such an urgency to get there while Wilma was still well enough to enjoy our visit. She was using a walker most of the time then but she was adament that we not take the sheets off our bed and wash them for her, she said she could do that herself. I left feeling badly about that. For me, it would only take a small effort, for her, the effort was huge. I'm so grateful we were blessed to enjoy her those few days. She still had a quick wit and her pleasant humor. Leroy reminded me yesterday that they have known us since l964 when they moved next door to where we lived. We had one child then, in fact our second child was born the December after the September when they moved in. I recall bringing John to their house next door to show him off. He was in a little white sweater set from head to toe. I can still see Leroy lift that little boy up and look him over. Our children have always been important to them. They have followed all our births and adoptions. They didn't have any children together; Leroy had two children by a former marriage. The mother of those children soured them against their father and to this day his children and grandchildren have little contact with him. That has been a source of remorse and guilt for Leroy his entire life.
If you think of Leroy and Wilma today, please send a prayer to the Lord for their comfort and grace during their time of suffering.
We went to see Leroy and Wilma in August. I felt such an urgency to get there while Wilma was still well enough to enjoy our visit. She was using a walker most of the time then but she was adament that we not take the sheets off our bed and wash them for her, she said she could do that herself. I left feeling badly about that. For me, it would only take a small effort, for her, the effort was huge. I'm so grateful we were blessed to enjoy her those few days. She still had a quick wit and her pleasant humor. Leroy reminded me yesterday that they have known us since l964 when they moved next door to where we lived. We had one child then, in fact our second child was born the December after the September when they moved in. I recall bringing John to their house next door to show him off. He was in a little white sweater set from head to toe. I can still see Leroy lift that little boy up and look him over. Our children have always been important to them. They have followed all our births and adoptions. They didn't have any children together; Leroy had two children by a former marriage. The mother of those children soured them against their father and to this day his children and grandchildren have little contact with him. That has been a source of remorse and guilt for Leroy his entire life.
If you think of Leroy and Wilma today, please send a prayer to the Lord for their comfort and grace during their time of suffering.
Thursday, November 1, 2007
Halloween Pranks
This is the morning that follows Halloween night. I recollect many of those with vivid memories of destruction when I was a child. Riding through town while sitting on the school bus or going to church with my parents, the scene in downtown De Motte looked like a war zone. The whole business section at that time was all of one block long. The store windows were clouded with the bar rubbing of someone's soap. That wasn't the worst, though. Swart's corner, a small parking lot next to one of the two local grocery stores was strewn with debris. In my mind's eye, I see the several outhouses that had been stolen from someone's back yard and dragged to town behind a youth's car. The day after, the local residents needed to make claim to the one they owned and take it home on the back of a pickup truck. The name of the movie, Smashing Pumpkins, was a real memory jogger for me. The street in town and the sidewalks and Swart's corner were filled with smashed pumpkins. Watermelon fields left with excess harvest were raided and those brought to town to drop on the ground and splatter. There were various other items from year to year but those were the most common. One particular year, an airplane from the little rural airport called Cheever's airport had been brought to town. I can imagine how much glee and satisfaction those boys got from that achievement. My father tells of one Halloween night when he was a teen when one of his friends took his Model A Ford and drove the thing up the steps of the school. The pictures of those steps defy any chance of that car not being damaged. All of this mischief could go on because there were no police in our town. We were totally unicorporated and the only law enforcement was twenty miles away in Rensselaer. Obviously, things have changed. I dare say my ride into town this morning will not be at all scenic in the same way as it was years ago. Downtown De Motte, which has now grown to at least a mile of businesses will be neat and tidy and ready for business as usual. I wonder how much parental attitude had to do with all that historic mess. I rather remember grown men getting pleasure by what the youth had gotten away with. Perhaps it was memories of their own mischief that they were recalling. At any rate, we see things differently today. Taking other's property is now consider stealing (rather than borrowing) and will be prosecuted. Making a mess in another's property and especially civil property is not considered a joke any longer.
Has all the mischief been taken out of Halloween here in De Motte or anywhere else? Hardly. I think the devil has gotten sneaky. The mischief and disorder has submerged. Now the movie theaters where horror shows are shown on the big screen provide that fulfillment of devilment kids seem to gravitate to. There are also many towns and even some churches that provide haunted houses for kids to tour. What people don't know or don't really believe is that when they subject their minds to that kind of thing, they invite Satan and all his hosts to join their lives. There are only two kinds of activities in this world. Those that are of the light and those that are of the darkness. I dare say that last night many parents allowed their children to particpate in the darkness.
I wasn't allowed to trick or treat as a child. My parents were cognizant of the dangers in all of the Halloween activites. When we got older, we could put a little make up on and go to the neighbors but it never got beyond that. I guess they thought that was innocent enough. I suppose one could say they just let us dabble. The year l954, my mother planned a little harvest party for us. The was a Saturday, the day before Halloween. She had the basement decorated and the hot chocolate and donuts were all ready on Friday night. The party goers were our neightborhood friends, one of whom is still my close friend today and my two siblings. What my mother didn't know prior to Saturday morning was that she would go into labor during the night on Friday. She was pregnant with her last child. The party went on without a hitch with the help of my very able and always willing Grandmother whom lived in the next house down the street. While we children were bobbing for apples, my father came home and went to sit at his desk as if nothing at all had transpired. Well? You have a baby brother. Excitement!!!! What is his name? Jeryld. Jeryld what? Oh, I don't know....let me think. He concluded that Jeryld's middle name was Alan. There has never been a better party in my life than that one. I was twelve when my youngest brother was born and he is still my baby. A better baby brother one will never find. We learned years later that my mother had given my brother the second name of Lee but when Dad told her he had told the other kids that his name was Jeryld Alan, my mother said, "The kids will have that name all over the county by now so I guess we will stick with it."
I don't see anything wrong in my grandchildren's trick or treat activities. That is, unless they dress in outfits that would express evil. I would not want them to give Satan any honor. Today, I will pray that Jesus will rout out any demonic activity from any of my family members who may have subjected themselves to stuff on his side of the aisle. The Word says, that we are children of the light and that as a result we are to walk in the LIGHT. Happy Reformation Day one day late.
Has all the mischief been taken out of Halloween here in De Motte or anywhere else? Hardly. I think the devil has gotten sneaky. The mischief and disorder has submerged. Now the movie theaters where horror shows are shown on the big screen provide that fulfillment of devilment kids seem to gravitate to. There are also many towns and even some churches that provide haunted houses for kids to tour. What people don't know or don't really believe is that when they subject their minds to that kind of thing, they invite Satan and all his hosts to join their lives. There are only two kinds of activities in this world. Those that are of the light and those that are of the darkness. I dare say that last night many parents allowed their children to particpate in the darkness.
I wasn't allowed to trick or treat as a child. My parents were cognizant of the dangers in all of the Halloween activites. When we got older, we could put a little make up on and go to the neighbors but it never got beyond that. I guess they thought that was innocent enough. I suppose one could say they just let us dabble. The year l954, my mother planned a little harvest party for us. The was a Saturday, the day before Halloween. She had the basement decorated and the hot chocolate and donuts were all ready on Friday night. The party goers were our neightborhood friends, one of whom is still my close friend today and my two siblings. What my mother didn't know prior to Saturday morning was that she would go into labor during the night on Friday. She was pregnant with her last child. The party went on without a hitch with the help of my very able and always willing Grandmother whom lived in the next house down the street. While we children were bobbing for apples, my father came home and went to sit at his desk as if nothing at all had transpired. Well? You have a baby brother. Excitement!!!! What is his name? Jeryld. Jeryld what? Oh, I don't know....let me think. He concluded that Jeryld's middle name was Alan. There has never been a better party in my life than that one. I was twelve when my youngest brother was born and he is still my baby. A better baby brother one will never find. We learned years later that my mother had given my brother the second name of Lee but when Dad told her he had told the other kids that his name was Jeryld Alan, my mother said, "The kids will have that name all over the county by now so I guess we will stick with it."
I don't see anything wrong in my grandchildren's trick or treat activities. That is, unless they dress in outfits that would express evil. I would not want them to give Satan any honor. Today, I will pray that Jesus will rout out any demonic activity from any of my family members who may have subjected themselves to stuff on his side of the aisle. The Word says, that we are children of the light and that as a result we are to walk in the LIGHT. Happy Reformation Day one day late.
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