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.

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.

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.

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."

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.

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.

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.