I am having difficulty coming up with stocking stuffers this year for
the granddaughters. It seems so unfair to fill Felicity's stocking with
chocolate and other goodies while stuffing Caelyn's with fruits and
vegetables.
Alex and Lindsey are great parents and very careful with Ms.
Caelyn's diet. At a year and a half, she has yet to experience her first sugar
rush - no candy, no pie - not even Aunt Brenda's cookies. Kevin and I are
doing our best to respect their wishes. I am not so sure what will happen
when Eric comes home. There is a reason Felicity called him Uncle M &M
for the first three years of her life.
I understand their concern. I swore Jeremy would not be having
candy and sweet treats. That lasted until his first Christmas. I went
downstairs for a few minutes and came upstairs to find Jeremy and
Granddaddy Loval having a bonding experience. Loval had one hand family
around Jeremy's waist and the other hand was holding the sucker that he
was feeding his newest grandson. Jeremy was three months old.
Whether they get carrots or candy in their stockings, both of the
girls are blessed to have parents who are raising them with love. They have
grandparents who adore them, and uncles who spoil them. This is the
season where we can share of a little of that love with those less fortunate.
Donate a toy, drop off a plate ofcookies, invite a friend out for lunch, visit a
shut in, and, above all, say a prayer for those who need Christ in their lives.
Count your blessings instead of your crosses;
Count your gains instead of your losses.
Count your joys instead of your woesi
Count your friends instead of your foes.
Count your smiles instead of your tears;
Count your courage instead of your fears.
Count your full years instead of your lean;
Count your kind deeds instead of your mean.
Count your health instead of your wealth;
Count on God instead of yourself.
Still A Soldier
I lay here today a soldier
I knew some don't understand
I will try to explain
So maybe you can
I served my country
For many a year
I retired long ago
The soldier still here
I put on my uniform
I wore it to foreign lands
The soldier I was
Is still in the man
I have been a husband, Father, and friend
To some of you here
But I've been a soldier all along
Even after so many a year
My final salute
I render today
I'm still a soldier
Much of my art work ends up in the hands of the Hayden
students. I sometimes take requests, but usually they are happy with
whatever I am in the mood to paint. My current requests include a
baby pony, a dog, a sunset, and a dream catcher. There is one request
that really tugged at my heart.
A young man asked if I was any good at drawing people. I
answered truthfully and told him that most of my people look more
like cartoons. He then asked me to try and draw a picture of one of
his grandparents. I was going to tell him no until he infomied me that
this grandparent had just passed away a couple of weeks ago.
My skills have not changed overnight. I still don't do people.
That being said, I will try my best to get this young man his portrait.
The puppies and unicorns and dragons will all have to wait.
Sometimes circumstances place you where your heart insists that you
reach out beyond your abilities.
I don't know how the picture will tum out. I do know that it
will be drawn with love because it was requested from love. Maybe
my true talent in this case was just providing a listening ear for a child
in pain. Has God asked you lately to reach out beyond your talents?
Or has He provided an opportunity for you to be that listening ear?
Sometimes doing God's work just means being in the right place at
the right time. And guess who put you there?!!
I feel like a miracle worker. You can actually see one small comer of my
middle bedroom. While that may not seem like much of an accomplishment to most
of you, it has been hours of work just to find that two foot square space. The middle
bedroom has been a storage room for the last 10 years. There are things in that
room that have not seen the light of day in at least 9 1/2 of those years.
I have trash piles, goodwill piles, keep piles, and "I wonder if Kevin will
ever figure it out if this goes missing" piles. I have to admit that the last pile is
probably the largest. I even have a few boxes that I am a little afraid to open.
It is not that I have suddenly been cured of the hoarder's disease. I haven't
even had a remission. What I do have is a hospital bed sitting in the middle of my
living room floor. Said bed is supposed to go in the back room for my mother.
Unfortunately, that can only occur after I find space in the middle room for her
current bed.
I have hope! It is a very small two foot square, but it is hope. That being
said, I know someone who could make you a really good deal on large quantities of
glassware and oil lamps. For the best deals, just make sure you stop by while Kevin
is at work!
Someone told me that a messy house is a sign of a creative mind, but I
don't think God intended any one human being to have this much creativity!
Let me tell you about the two men we will be celebrating this
Fathers' Day. Of course, we will honor our fathers-the bread winner,
the disciplinarian, the baseball coach, the sideline referee, and occasional
fishing buddy. You know the fathers I am talking about. They love their
children but also understand that actions have consequences. Their
children receive praise and punishment-when it is deserved. A good
father gives his child hugs and chores. His "I love you"might not be as
frequent but it shows in his actions. We are honoring the father who
fixes flats on bicycles and later on cars. We are remembering the fathers
who stay up late with crying infants and even later when daughters are
out on a date.
Then something happens to many of our dads. They become
grandpas. There is something magical about the birth of that first
grandchild that transforms these no nonsense dads into piles of mush.
No more green veggies before dessert, let's just skip straight to the candy
bars. No more carefully budgeted birthday gifts, why the poor child
might feel neglected if she only has 199 presents instead of 200. I am
not sure how or why but God must figure that every child needs a fairy
godmother. And since those particular creatures are so rare, He figured
Papaw would fill the spot quite nicely. Happy Fathers' Day!
LOVE
Ricky was "L"but he's home with the flu.
Lizzy, our "O," had some homework to do.
Mitchell,"E"prob'ly got lost on the way,
So I'm all the love that could make it today.
By Shel Silverstein
School will be ending on Wednesday. Yeah! No more homework, early
mornings, or long bus rides! No more" ee breakfast, hot lunch, or caring teachers!
Yes, I am thrilled that school will soon be out. I am also worried about
those children who rely on our schools for stability and basic necessities. Your
child or grandchild will be fed and cared for this summer. Many will not be. Free
lunch programs are available in several locations around the county. They are a
blessing, but sometimes that six year old has no way there. Frequently parents have
to choose between unsupervised children or food on the table. They are in a
precarious balancing act with no safety net.
Be a safety net to some parent this summer. Invite that troublesome child
down the road for an afternoon of play. He might not be your choice of a
companion for your children, but you could be his lifeline in a troubled sea. Ask an
older child to do a few chores for you. Pay them with a little cash, a few cookies,
some conversation, and a healthy dose of caring. Invite a child to VBS, drop ofr
some leftovers to a neighbor, or ask a tired mom if she needs anything. Beall of
the love that could make it today for some child this summer! We all know that a
little love at the right time can make huge difference.
I have grandchildren. For those of you who have yet to experience
that joy let me explain them to you. Grandchildren are a lovely combination
of reward (for not having killed your own children) and revenge.
Every time Caelyn smiles at me or Felicity calls me Grandma, my
heart melts. After raising four boys there is nothing better than hugs from
sparkly pink girls. Shopping for My Little Ponies and teddy bears sure beats
the WWF figures I spent so much money on. I do feel a little sorry for
Kevin though. He had just learned the names of all the Disney Princesses
when Felicity moved onto Ponies.
Now for the best part-revenge! When Caelyn looks up at me with
those big blue eyes, I see glimmers of her daddy, and I just laugh. I haven't
decided whether the best revenge would be for Caelyn to be a teenager just
like Alex or for her to date someone just like her daddy. As far as Felicity
goes, her neat and organized father has nothing on this child. When Uncle
Brett bought her 106 rubber ducks, Felicity knew exactly which duck was
missing its mate. The house was turned upside down until the little quacker
was found.
For all of those mothers who are still raising their children-love
and laugh with them now, enjoy the dirty faces and silly jokes. Rejoice in
the fact that revenge comes in cute bundles called grandchildren.
Happy Mother's Day to all of the moms, grandmas, and beloved aunts.
In the past two weeks I have painted ajungle, a cave, a
canyon, and a savannah. I have also painted 3 lions, a hyena, a polar
bear, a pink pig, a sea turtle, and started on a brown cow. There
might have even been a few corrections to children's papers that were
painted on instead of marked with a red pen. Most of the artwork
turned out okay. And if the artwork wasn't perfect, I think everyone
was too afraid of the paint brush that seemed permanently glued to my
hand to complain.
I am not sure how God manages it. He created the entire
world in six days. He paints amazing sunrises and sunsets for us to
enjoy. He fills everyday with beauty if we only look for it. His
artistic ability is so far beyond mine that it is incomprehensible.
On the other hand, God's ability in everything is so far beyond
mine. Where would we be without His ability to forgive, to love, to
nurture, to sacrifice, to create, and to heal? What would our lives be
like if God was limited by human abilities? Can you imagine the gray
and unforgiving world we would be forced to live in? Fortunately for
us, God's power is mighty. His love is everlasting. And we are each
and everyone an example of His creativity and patience. Remember
to thank the artist as you look at the sunset this evening.
IRISH BLESSINGS
May there always be work for your hands to do.
May your purse always hold a coin or two.
May the sun always shine on your windowpane.
May a rainbow be certain to follow each rain.
May the hand of a friend always be near you.
May God fill your heart with gladness to cheer you.
May those who love us, love us;
And for those who don't love us,
May God turn their hearts;
And if He doesn't turn their hearts,
May He turn their ankles,
So we will know them by their limping!
It is almost time for spring cleaning. Unfortunately my
version of spring cleaning is moving stuff from a pile in one room to a
pile in another room. I think I need to hire someone to ruthlessly go
through all of my stuff and decide if it is a necessity or just taking up
space. I know I couldn't do it. The minute I throw something away is
the time I need it. I mean, I am sure there will be a use someday for
boxes of the boys' old blue jeans and toys. And, to be honest, to start
cleaning out junk you have to have someplace to put it for sorting.
am not quite to hoarder status, but am quickly approaching that level.
There is a difference between collecting and hoarding.
collect brooches. I buy or trade for what I like and will wear.
Hoarding is keeping the good and the bad with no use for either.
Stuff isn t the only thing I hoard. I have difficulty letting go
of actions and emotions that are not good for my peace of mind.
give them to God and He lets them go. The sins are forgiven by God,
but not forgotten by me. If God can wipe my slate clean, shouldn't I
be able to enjoy that? I think that sometimes as human beings the
person we are hardest on is ourselves. We hoard so many bad
memories and emotions that we cannot let ourselves enjoy what God
has given us. Let God clean the closet of your mind and heart.
I have been at my sister's for the last several days helping her study.
Lou taught advanced English at Broad Ripple High School for many years,
but she taught as an artist in residence rather than a licensed teacher. Now
that the school has closed, she has to take the parapro test. That might not
sound like a big deal except for the fact that the parapro contains that
dreaded four letter word: M-A-T-H!
Math and my sister have had a long running aversion to each other.
I remember well the day she called me and proudly announced that she had
figured out exactly how much wood it would take to put new trim around
her porch windows. It had taken her several hours and many sheets of
paper, but she had the answer down to the last fraction of an inch. As Lou
read off the figures, I was trying hard not to laugh but failing miserably.
When she was finished, I gently reminded her that trim was sold by the foot,
and her windows were exactly two foot by four foot. She was not amused.
I have to admit that the math portion of the test is much more
difficult than when I took it. And the study guide is much more difficult
than the actual test. We managed to get through 90 of the 100 questions,
and are planning a second study session-if she doesn't burn the test booklet beforehand.
The most important things I taught her were to read the questions
carefully and eliminate stupid answers. That doesn't sound like a bad plan
for life, does it? Look at life carefully. If your choice doesn't fall in line
with the test booklet, the Bible, eliminate it as a stupid answer. Success is
guaranteed.
Today after church Kevin and I will be picking up Miss
Felicity for an afternoon of painting with Grandma. Papaw is being
banished to the bedroom for his football fix. The living room tv is
strictly reserved for Christmas cartoons during our artistic breaks.
I am not too concerned. When I paint, the table, the floor, and
all of my clothes tend to wear a liberal layer of color. No three year
old could possible make more of a mess than I do. Her mommy on
the other hand is a little more worried. Pretty pink dresses and bows
are meant to stay that color. If wrapping presents with said three year
old wasn't classified as mission impossible, I would probably have to
wait several more years for our first master piece to appear.
I never thought I could love any child as much as I loved my
children. Then the miracle of grandchildren occurred. Not only do I
love them as much, they are much more perfect than their daddies
ever dreamed of being.
We think we know the true meaning of love when we look at
our spouses, our children, and our grandchildren. Yet that is only a
pale shadow of the love God has for us. His love was proven in a
manger and on a cross. Share a small part of that love this Christmas
Season - not just with your family, but with everyone you meet.
Yes, this close to Thanksgiving, I am going to complain. We went a
couple of very cold days without power, we have a wrecked car, and we
have another car that just decided to quit on us. My house is a mess, and I
desperately need to do laundry.
Now I am going to give thanks. Kevin is fine even if the vehicle is
not. We have family that let us shower at her place-Thank you, Sharon.
At least a couple of the boys will be home for Thanksgiving, and they are
use to the mess. Power came back on last night-a day earlier than planned.
I have a loving husband who understands that holidays are rough for me at
the best of times. We have great sons, lovely daughter-in-laws, and
beautiful granddaughters. I have a roof over my head, food on the table, and
clothes to wear. Kevin and I have family and friends who would step up if
any of those things suddenly disappeared. I have a church family that prays
for my needs and celebrates my successes. I have a God who understands
that I am not perfect, but He loves me anyway.
Funny how when I look at it, the list of blessings is much longer
than the list of complaints. I think that is the case for most of us. The
problems just seem so overwhelming that we can't see the all of the good
things that God has given us. Instead of a New Year's Resolution maybe I
need to make a Thanksgiving Resolution. Before I count my troubles I
should count my blessings. The treasures that I find are sure to outweigh the
problems that I see.
The soldier above all others prays for peace, for it is the soldier
who must suffer and bear the deepest wounds and scars of war.
Douglas MacArthur
True heroism is remarkably sober, very undramatic. It is not the
urge to surpass all others at whatever cost, but the urge to serve
Arthur Ashe
But this Veterans Day, I believe we should do more than sing the
praises of the bravery and patrio%§ smm that our veterans have
embodied in the past. We should take this opportunity to re-
evaluate how we are treating our veterans in the present.
Nick Lampson
I go where the sound of thunder is.
Alfred M. Gray
I had already completed the back ofthe bulletin with a lovely poem about
fall. Then events ofthe past week caused me to change my mind. Alex was
supposed to come down this weekend so Kevin and I could have some much needed
grandbaby time. Instead, he spent the weekend mourning at a graveside for a young
man whose life ended much too soon.
Last week Scott Maple took his own life. He was 30 years old. Although I
only met him once, he was a lively young man with a great sense of humor and a
bright future in front of him. He was also a veteran suffering from PTSD. He was
one of 22 veterans who commit suicide in this country every day. But he was more
than a statistic. He was a son, a grandson, and a friend.
In this country, we have over 40,000 homeless veterans. Some ofthe latest
studies show that more than two thirds of these homeless suffer" om PTSD. VA
hospitals are overcrowded. Health care and mental health care are delayed or
denied. Twenty-two veterans commit suicide each day. That means that* om the
time you walk in this church door to the Eme you leave, we have lost at least soldier
to suicide. Someone willing to risk his life for you has instead taken his own life.
Next week we will be honoring our veterans. Wnat better way to honor
them than to guarantee that services are readily available to meet the physical and
emotional needs of our heroes? We are a powerful military force in this world. But
with great power comes great responsibility. We are failing in that responsibility.
We train our troops to fight. We train them to kill. We fail to help them heal. We
fail to help them with the memories. We fail to help them live. Pray for the Maple
family. Pray for our troops. Pray that we find a way to help our heroes. 22 A DAY
IS 22 T00 MANY!
In keeping with the season, I have been feeling rather witchy
these last few weeks. Part of it is all ofthe changes at school. It is
not that the changes are bad; it is that I am a creature of habit. It takes
me a while to adjust to a new routine. Part of it is a flare up of my
fibromyalgia. It is painful and exhausting. Unfortunately, I tend to
take out my frustration on those around me. I guess I am one of those
"If the broom fits, ride it!" kind of people.
Unfortunately for me, Halloween is not the season God wants
me to be celebrating. If He had to choose a hat for me to wear and
season for me to celebrate all year round, it would be a red fuzzy hat
and the Christmas season. God doesn't want me to be Santa. He just
wants me to remember that His Son came down at Christmas so that
we might feel His presence every day of the year.
I think it is time for me to trade in my black, pointy hat for
something a little more festive. More importantly, it is time for me to
trade in my attitude for something a little more Christ-like. Seasons
come and go, but God and His Son are forever. All we have to do is
welcome them in.
Kevin and I have a friend named Kenny. This story happened many years ago.
At that time, Kenny was young, single, and a farmer. That meant his phone calls varied
greatly in time and frequency depending upon the season and his romantic involvement
One evening I received a call from Kenny. His first question was,"Was I with
you and Kevin last night?"When I responded in the negative, his second question was,
Do you know where I got this tattoo?
The second question took much longer to answer because by this time I was
laughing hysterically. When I finally composed myself, I replied,"No. If you had been
with us you would not be sporting a brand new tattoo. And I have to know what it is."It
turns out that our rock and roll farmer friend was the not so proud owner of a rather
large, rather bright parrot tattoo.
Kenny is now happily married and the owner of his own company. He is a
proud grandpa. I am just waiting for the day his grandsons ask him why there is a
parrot on his arm,
This is not an anti tattoo story. It is a story about choices. wnether it is a scar
from a bicycle accident or a tattoo, some things stay with us the rest of our lives. Some
bad decisions are not so visible, but we wear them in our hearts.
The people around us, who know our past, often judge us by it. If you had a
wild youth, others might look at you and wonder at the changes Christ has wrought in
your life. If alcoholism haunted your past many might be watching for you to slip and
take that first drink, If your terrible temper has been tamed by the Grace of God, some
can't wait for that first blow up just to say that they told you so,
Others watch, others judge. God forgives and understands when we lay our
scars and mistakes in front of Him. We are to be an example to those around us. We are
not to be perfect, That is God's job.
As I was driving to church this morning to do the bulletin, a
song came on the radio. One of the first lines ofthe song was, "I
heard every soldier's cry and every mama's prayer. " How appropriate
for Memorial Weekend.
While most of us will spend this weekend watching the race
and enjoying the extra day off, many will spend at least part of this
weekend standing beside a headstone. They will bow their heads,
shed a tear, and say a prayer for loved ones lost in battle.
We are a free nation. The price for that freedom is the blood
of our military men and women. We stand in this church today
because someone stood for us. We have the opportunity to complain
and protest because soldiers marched into battle under orders they
didn't always understand or agree with.
We are a free nation because ofthe men and women who have
fought to keep us that way. We are a free nation because of blood and
sacrifice. We are a free nation because of brave men and women who
have raised their hands and said, "I will,"when asked to serve. Pray
for our troops, pray for those who came home in flag draped coffins,
and pray for those families left behind. Freedom is not free. This
weekend we honor thcise who paid the price for us.
It is spring-that wonderful time of year when we
bundle up in long johns and fuzzy coats on Monday before
breaking out the swimsuits on Tuesday. Okay, that is a slight
exaggeration, very slight. There is an old say that goes,
"When man plans, God laughs." He must be having a great
time with our Indiana weather.
I know why our weather is so crazy. God decided that
He would give Mother Nature a chance at being a stand-up
coinedian with her stage being Indiana in the spring. She is a
huge hit gaining applause and curtain calls from sea to
shining sea-if we leave out that small part of the country
that we call home.
Don't worry, spring will soon be over, and we will be
able to enjoy the marvelous weather that comes to Indiana in
the summer.
Brett called the other day to let us know that his unit had
orders to start predeployment for Kuwait in October. I am better at
this army thing than I used to be. For one thing, he has had orders
before, and they were dropped. For another, it is Kuwait. Ten years
ago the idea of any of my sons going overseas would have sent me
into a panic. Now Kevin and I are much more philosophical. It is
Kuwait; it could be Afghanistan. It is Kuwait, and he will go as office
staff rather than infantry. I am much happier with the idea that he will
be doing paper work rather than patrols. That being said, orders
change. It could be Afghanistan, Iraq, or Pismo Beach.
My sons are home and safe. Not every mother can say that.
We sometimes get so caught up in the politics of the war that we
forget our soldiers. Those men and women who serve in the armed
forces do not take an oath agreeing to fight only in wars that they
believe in. They fight whenever and wherever they are sent. They
deploy with paperwork and pens. They deploy with rifles and
machine guns. Our soldiers serve this nation from facilities right in
our own backyard to bases half way around the world.
Say a prayer for those who serve. They have earned our
prayers and our respect every day of the week not just on those
holidays set aside to honor them.
I have been helping to decorate a bulletin board at school. The
board is safety tips written and illustrated by our kindergarten through
third grade classes. My favorite so far is, "Watch out for banana
peels. " How perfect. How classic. And the artwork is as wonderful
as the message.
I have two left feet and frequently find myself in the presence
of banana peels. I am notjust talking about my physical bumps and
bruises. I am talking about all of those spiritual banana peels out
there.
How often do you find yourself in a situation that will lead
you into trouble? It might be as simple as agreeing to lunch with a
person who is toxic to your inner peace. It clal be as deadly as
agreeing to that one more when you are driving home. Insensitive
jokes are banana peels. Gossip is a banana peel. Giving in to anger,
despair, or vanity can all be banana peels. Slip sliding down is a
whole lot easier than picking yourself up.
Listen to advice from a wise young scholar. Watch out for
banana peels. If you find yourself sliding, reach out for a steady hand
Call a Christian friend, call your pastor, or call on the steadiest hand
of all, your Heavenly Father
I herd cats. That should be the official job description of any
elementary school assistant. Yesterday three of us volunteered to chaperone
an all day robotics competition. I would love to say that we were assistant
coaches, but that would be assuming we had at least a smidgen of
knowledge ofthe strange little machines that were running all around the
building yesterday.
My oldest son, Jeremy, is the head coach. He had a staff of very
capable assistant coaches, his sixth grade team members. Hayden has a
third, fourth and fifth grade team. The grant for the robots did not cover our
oldest students, so a compromise was reached. I was very impressed with
how these students handled the responsibility. They made the team list and
divided the drivers. If the robot had issues, they were on the scene to
supervise repairs. When I questioned a couple of decisions, I was quickly
but politely informed,"I have watched them drive. I know how they work
together. We are fine. " And they were right.
The day was loud and chaotic. There was a lot of cat herding. The
scores were not as high as the kids would have liked. That being said,
promise was shown, and lessons were learned. Young people took on
leadership roles and made decisions. Perhaps that is the best thing their
coach did for that team. Teaching kids about robots is great. Helping young
people realize their potential is priceless.
Are we helping our young people be leaders? Are we teaching them
to step forward for Christ? They are our future. They will be our leaders.
I am once again on the diet train although this time I am calling it a
lifestyle change. For those of you, who have never had a weight issue, let
me tell you that dieters are the world's best at procrastinating and justifying.
I had a cookie for lunch. I've already blown it so I might as well have a
banana split for supper. Or, I have so much going on this week, I might as
well wait until Monday (or next month, next year, next life, etc.) to start this
diet. Or the funniest excuse, it is too cold to get out and walk now, so I will
wait until spring so I can diet and exercise together. Let me tell you right
now, the only thing we slightly rotund people can put off better than dieting
is exercise. I may bejust be speaking for myselt but I am pretty sure a few
of you might relate. I was reading another diet book recently, and it did
have one good tip. It suggested starting every meal as if it was Monday
morning-a fresh start every time you sit down at the table.
I have an even better idea. What if we could start each day as if it
was Sunday morning? Wouldn't it be wonderful if we could share our
morning offee with a group of Christian friends as we discuss our cares and
our praises? What would happen if we started the day with an in depth look
into God's word? Can you imagine how much more aware we would be of
each action and each word if we knew we would be sharing with others the
next morning? I can't meet for coffee with church friends. I can share my
coffee with God as I spend a little time in His word. I am not going to hear
a sermon before work to remind me to be on my best behavior. I just have
to remember that the words are in my mind and Christ is in my heart.
We found out late last Saturday night that our newest grandchild
would be a little girl. Alex and his wife, Lindsey, are expecting their first
child on May 20th Those of you, who were not around when Alex was
small, won't understand my wish for the New Year. Those of you who
remember my sweet, adorable second son will laugh and say a sincere
prayer for Lindsey. My wish is that Alex has a child just like himself - a
small, pink version. The only thing that would make it even better is if she
found a couple of perfect playmatesjust like Alex did.
Don't get me wrong, Alex never did anything criminal or at least
was never caught. It was just that if there was a line to cross, he was
carefully measuring just how close he could get. His mouth got him in far
more trouble than his actions. He is the only person I know stupid enough
to tell a drill sergeant joke to his drill sergeant. He and Eric invented
flaming golf, he chopped down our apple tree to build a wrestling ring, wore
shorts on a bet for two years including during Indiana winters, and once
broke up with a girl because she said she could beat him at Mario Cart.
Alex probably gave me more gray hair during his teens than the
other three combined. He also probably gave me the most laughs. Right
now, Alex is in that new-parent-to-be place somewhere between thrilled
and terrified. I have no doubt that he and Lindsey will be fabulous parents.
If anyone can handle a miniature Alex, it would be Lindsey. She seems to
do just fine with the grown-up version. And Grandma will just get to sit
back and laugh and laugh and laugh.
SHERRY'S CHRISTMAS TO DO LIST
l. Find Christmas tree
2. Set up Christmas tree
3. Decorate tree
4. Buy gifts
5. Wrap gifts
6. Deliver gifts to sister
7. Address Christmas cards.
I didn't know if any of you noticed, but none ot my items are checked off. I wouid love to
blame that on the fact that there is not a check mark on my computer keyboard. Unfortunately, I
can't. And, since I am typing this bulletin on Saturday, number 7 really should be mimber one. In
the Christmas organization spirit, I am definitely on the Scrooge side.
On the other hand, I have painted cardinals with 4th graders, painted trees with 6th
graders, and made snowmen with my fifth graders. I have decorated bulletin boards and made
smiling elves. Making Christmas cards, stockings, and ornaments with the kids is un my schedule
for next week.
My tree can wait. I will eventually get my gifts bought. And if your card happens to be
unsigned, you can figure out where it came from. Most of the kids I work with will have some sort
of Christmas. For many of them though the excitement of creating something with their own
hands is an opportunity they only get in the classroom. We all share the Christmas spirit in our
own way. My way just happens to involve lots of paint, glue, glitter, and mess.
It seems that the Christmas season is always a time of chaos.
Stores are packed, schedules are hectic, and gifts aren't quite right.
the pants and budget are getting tighter every day. Nerves are
frazzled, and tempers are short.
We think we have it rough this holiday season. Imagine
being nine months pregnant and traveling miles from your home only
to find that there is no place for you to rest. Imagine giving birth in a
dark, dirty stable sunounded by animals. Not exactly the way anyone
would want to bring their child into the world.
Then imagine thejoy as shepherds arrive to worship the
newborn King. Angels from Heaven have spread the news, and a
magnificent star lights the way. The stable is still dirty. The animals
are still there. But all of these minor things are overshadowed by the
miracle that has taken place. The Son of God has come to earth.
Heaven has reached down and blessed us.
This Christmas season as we battle lines and budgets help us
to remember that these are temporary inconveniences. The gift of
salvation that comes through Christ is everlasting. This time of year
should not be known as a time of chaos but a time of peace.
Remember that the most important gift you can give this year is
sharing the knowledge of who Christ really is.
I want to thank everyone who participated in the painting
class. Give me a room full of kids, and I am fine. Grownups scare
me. This particular group of grownups was great. I think they
amazed themselves with their artistic abilities. I might not be Bob
Ross, but we had several happy little trees. I think I might have even
made a few converts to the joy of painting.
Being an artist does not mean you will ever make a living at it.
It doesn't mean that you will ever break even. Being an artist means
creating your own version of beauty and enjoying the effort.
Think about the greatest artist of all time. His sunsets are
stunning, His mountain peaks are spectacular, and His ocean scenes
are absolutely gorgeous. Then He crafted us. We are a little more
flawed, and I know we often cause Him great sadness. I hope though
that there are times when God looks down at His human creations
and smiles to himself thinking,"I made that. "
I think that today, as we ordain two new deacons into His
service, might be one of those times. May the Lord bless Dale and
Pam. May He strengthen them as they begin a new journey of
service to Christ and to this church.
Friday during our Veterans Day program at school I
volunteered to sit with a small group of children whose religious
beliefs don't allow for military service. I'm okay with that. We did
homework, talked, and made a mess with paper, scissors, and
glue. These children and their parents have as much right to their
religious beliefs as we do to ours.
Today Kevin and Brett will be attending a Colts game where
some players will stand and honor our flag. Others will kneel in
protest. Brett is a veteran who served in Afghanistan, and Kevin
is a parent who watched the news, worried, and prayed the entire
time Brett was overseas. Neither will agree with the protest. In
fact, I'm pretty sure that both will be more than a little irritated,
but I think both will agree that it is the players' right.
There are some who will not attend church today-not
from illness or family commitments. They simply choose not to.
They don't understand the wondrous blessing they are missing.
While I am sad for their loss, I understand that this choice is also
their right,
We have the freedom to make our own choices regarding
religion, speech, and peaceful protest. The irony is that
sometimes our choices disrespect those who have fought for our
freedom, our veterans. And sometimes those choices deny the
existence of the giver of all blessings, Our Heavenly Father.
I have had craft shows the last couple of weekends.
have done okay with sales. But, the truth is, I do shows
because l have to paint. When l am in the mood to paint, it
comes first. The house might be a disaster area, but I am
painting. I have been known to cook with a paint brush in
one hand and a spatula in the other. I am very talented at
eating my lunch and painting at the same time-although I
have yet to figure out spaghetti and nachos. I give away
more than I sell, and I throw away more than I give away.
If I did not do something with my artwork, my house would
soon overflow.
I believe that my talent is a gift from God. I will
never be famous or make millions from my art. That's okay.
It makes me happy, and sometimes it makes others happy.
When we have a talent, no matter how small, God
wants us to use it and share it. What would church be
without the beautiful voices lifted in song? How many of us
look forward to the fabulous food we will enjoy next
weekend? Something that seems so small to you might
bring great joy to someone else. We all have gifts. Share
yours!
Kevin and I have set up at an outdoor antique show the last
couple of months, Yesterday was the last one of the season. The
sales are a necessary evil. Kevin has enough cast iron and brass that
if there ever is a shortage of those two materials, we will be instant
millionaires. On the other hand, if he didn't sell occasionally, we
would quickly be overran by little metal monster.
The problem with doing a show is the packing up at the end of
the day. No matter how much you sell, it seems like things have
multiplied on your tables. It is almost like every fellow vendor who
buys something from you sneaks two or three of their unwanted items
onto your table. Of course, it doesn't help that cast iron is not the
lightest thing in the world.
I sometimes feel like a sale table at the end ofthe day. I give
my burdens to God. I feel loved and lifted. Then, for some reason, I
decide I need to pick up a few more burdens-anger, hurt feelings,
frustration. God isn't taking away and leaving things behind. I am a
hoarder. I collect problems and emotions. I am not talking about the
major stuff, the things that we all need to deal with in our lives. I am
talking about petty things that are a senseless burden. I need to work
on giving those emotions to God and not restocking the table as I go.
Truly trusting God means letting go. Trusting God mean
allowing Him to take your burdens and not gathering them back up.
While Jeremy and Amy were at school working on some
computer grading for the upcoming school year, 2 year old Felicity
decided she would help Grandma clean out her school cabinets.
Unfortunately for Jeremy. My cabinets are stored in his classroom. It
did not take long for Felicity to discover my prize box. In no time
flat, her neck was draped in ten different necklaces, and Jeremy's
once tidy room was strewn with assorted teddy bears and fuzzy balls.
Obviously my junk was her treasures.
Sometimes we as Christians look at our childhood Bible
stories in the same way I looked at my "prize" box. It was something
to be put away On the shelf and forgotten about. We are adults. Who
needs those stories of animals and rain? Were those lions really that
important? The truth is yes. I was not raised in the church. I heard
those stories when I started attending here at Tea Creek and working
with the children. It did not matter that I was closer to 22 than 2.
Those stories were a foundation of knowledge that I needed to
develop a relationship with God.
Too often when we are talking to non Christians, we assume
they know the stories but just don't believe. Some do, many don't.
The thousands of years of faith and prophecy that led up to the birth
of Jesus are important in who we are today. Sometimes baby steps in
bringing others to Christ are as important as baby steps in the nursery.
We will be making a trip up to Alex and Lindsey's soon to
view some photos and videos of their trip. To Alaska. One of the
videos is of them zip lining off a hillside that Alex said was the
approximate height of the Empire State Building. Their idea of fun-
definitely not mine.
It is amazing what people do for entertainment. Eric has
always wanted to wrestle a bear, and Brett would like to dive with
sharks. One of the boys has already been sky diving, and the others
are anxious to try. Zip lining, sky diving, roller coasters, etc. Are all
activities that involve getting your feet off the ground. Large,
ferocious animals do not make my list of favorites either.
Maybe, when I get to Heaven, God will give me a set of wings
so that I can enjoy the experience of flight. Until then, these feet are
planted firmly on the ground. Maybe in Heaven the sharks are
toothless and grizzlies are cuddly. Until then, I will settle for my
teddy bear and occasional battles with the blue gill in the pond.
I would not call myself a coward. I just have a strong instinct
for survival. I want to meet God one day, just not anytime soon.
Fortunately for me, God loves the timid and the brave, the adventurers
and the couch sitters, the bear fighters and the teddy bear huggers.
Lori Kendrick will be teaching our next Creation Station Class. She
is a friend of mine who happens to be a fabulously talented artist. Her birds
look like they could fly off the canvas and sing to you. Her other wildlife
artwork is just as realistic.
We get together several times a year just to visit and paint. I have to
admit that whenever we paint together I am so jealous of her abilities. Her
talents lie in painting the animal world as it really is. Her cardinals seem
ready do land on the bird feeder. My ostrich seems ready to give you
attitude. Her deer slumber in the forest. My dragons roar at passing
maidens.
The funny thing is, Lori would like to have some of my talent.
have tried to teach her one-stroke painting. Let's just say it was less than
successful. She has tried to share her techniques with me. It was not pretty.
It is so easy to be envious ofthe talents of others. I want to be able
to sing. Instead, I croak. My athletic abilities are limited to avoiding
hospital stays by not playing sports. My mechanical and computer skills are
severely limited. But, that's okay. That's what friends are for.
Life would be so boring if we all shared the same talents. As much
as I love Lori's work, I don't think I want my world dragon free. Sharon's
quilts are beautiful while my sewing is a success if the needle doesn't go
through my finger. Although I love to hear Sally sing, I'm not willing to
trade my paintbrush for that voice, even if I could. God had given each of
us different talents and abilities. Our job is to find those gifts and use them
for His glory.
On Saturday we celebrated Father's Day with three of our
sons, our daughter-in-laws, and our two year old granddaughter,
Felicity. Felicity does not see her uncles or aunt very often, so she
has a little trouble with their names. The boys are Uncle Candy or
Uncle M & M-in no particular order. For some reason, Aunt Lindsey
is Uncle Lindsey. It doesn't matter what she calls us, it is very
obvious that this two year old is ruler of her small universe.
Felicity learned long ago that Papaw's watch was a great play
thing, and Mamaw was always willing to pin a brooch on her tiny
shirt. Saturday, she wanted to add Lindsey's bracelet to her
collection. Mommy Amy said,"No. You have enough. " Felicity
thought for a couple of minutes, walked over to Kevin and handed
him his watch. She then came to me to return my brooch. In her
mind, the problem was solved. She walked over to Lindsey and
reached for the bracelet."Uncle Lindsey"has no more will power
than the rest of us when it comes to this little dictator and promptly
handed over the bracelet. No. she is not spoiled. We will just call her
well loved.
As we celebrate this Father's Day, I am reminded of the
saying that grandchildren are the reward for not killing your own kids.
This side of Heaven, I can't imagine a greater blessing than hugs and
kisses from the sweet little things we all call· our grandchildren.
Father, grandfather, or beloved uncle-enjoy your day.
I have been doing a lot of painting the last few weeks. My
living room is filled with birds and flowers and dragons and fairies.
We won't even talk about the scattered paint bottles and dabs of color
all over my clothes. The main thing I have been doing is
experimenting with backgrounds. It is amazing what adding a little
black, a few drops of water, or a swirl of white can do to the
atmosphere of a picture. What is bright and vivid can become
somehow a little spooky. Garish colors can be toned down to a
tranquil setting. Small changes can make a big difrerence.
Sometimes we forget that not all Christians came to know God
in the same way. Not all of us have the same background. Many of
us were raised in the church and grew up knowing the love of family
and God. Others have fought battles with drugs and alcohol before
finding peace through Christ. Some of us came to Christ later in life
through the influence of family or friends.
Our backgrounds range from calm and serene to dark and
stormy. Our road to Christ may have been a stroll down a garden path
or an exhausting climb up a treacherous mountain. Whatever the
background, whatever route we took, the result is the same. Each of
us is a beautiful work of art because we were created in His image and
are filled with His love.
I love birds. And, unlike Troy, my affection is not limited to
birds that can be fried, baked or served with dumplings. There is
nothing more beautiful than a hummingbird flitting among the
flowers. The majesty of a hawk soaring through the air is breath
That being said, those stupid birds need a union. Union rule
number one should be that no tweeting, singing, or warbling will be
allowed before the sun is up. Rule number two-No birds will ever,
under any circumstances, be allowed to singjoyfully and loudly right
occur, Troy's next KFC style meal might have pieces slightly smaller
than the norm and be hand delivered by me.
Take a break birds. Relax, enjoy, sleep in. I know that the
early bird catches the worm, but it's a worm. What kind of incentive
is that? Let me sleep in and I promise you toast withjelly. Think
about it. If that is not incentive enough, just think about the Colonel.
God has given us a world filled with beauty. I wonder how
often we are too busy to enjoy all that this world has to offer. Maybe
next time my feathered friend wakes me up, I will just relax and enjoy
the music that God has orchestrated for my listening pleasure.
Earlier this week I came across a kindergartener staring
intently at the art work displayed on the bulletin board. I could tell he
was upset so I stopped to talk to him. He explained that he was
unhappy because everyone else had a bright, shiny, red, white, and
blue President's ribbon. His ribbon was a plain and boring blue.
tried to explain that he did not have a President's (Participants) ribbon
because he had done such a great job. He had a first place. I am not
sure my efforts worked. First place didn't seem to mean as much to
the little boy as the colorful ribbons the other kids had.
How often are we like that little boy? We look at the much
nicer house down the road with envy. But is there love in that home
and God in their hearts? We long for pain free days forgetting that the
pain has drawn us closer to God and brought fiends into our lives.
want the voice of an angel so I can sing praises in the choir. I
sometimes forget that my art can be a form of praise just in a different
way. We all want that bright, shiny ribbon. What we need to hold
onto is the blue ribbon that comes in time when we are children of
God. That is the first place prize above all others.
Spell check does not like Baptists. It especially hates
Baptist hymns. Every week the bulletin shows red and
green marks because the song titles and the computer do not
agree. I am supposed to change "He is risen... " to He
raised. I should not be capitalizing the word he in the
middle of a sentence. And spell check is really unhappy
about the word receiveth. It offers receives, received, and
receive. Sorry. It is just going to have to stay the way it is.
I make enough mistakes in the bulletin on my own.
Believe me; Kevin very considerately points them out to me
every week. The last thing I need is the computer trying to
fix thing that aren't broken.
What I really need is a spell check and auto correct
for my life. That would be real progress. Oh, wait. I have
that. It is called the Bible. And when the Bible points out a
mistake, you better believe that it is an error that needs
correcting
I think the painting class was a success. The kids had a blast,
and even the adults discovered some hidden artistic talents. The kids
did a greatjob on the acrylic painting, but seemed to have more fun
making the cards. The adults, on the other hand, seemed to like the
step by step ofthe acrylic. Between parents, kids, and helpers we had
almost 30 people here on a Saturday morning.
Starting this class has been a dream of mine for several years.
I realized on Saturday why it had taken years for the first class to
happen. I was too stubborn to ask for help. Lisa organized. Pam and
Jerurifer cooked. Sharon and Brenda donated cookies and chips.
Jimmy made an extra trip to the store. Bobby Jo, Cathy, Lisa,
Danielle, and Pastor Philip squirted paint, washed table, handed out
supplies, and did a little of everything else. It was definitely not a one
woman show. About the only thing I did was pace and paint.
This church is amazing in its ability to understand that sharing
God's love is not only a Sunday morning task. In February alone we
are using our church for a painting class, a benefit dinner, and a
women's retreat. We might be small, but that does not mean we are
not making a difference in this community. Thank you, church, for
letting God's love shine.
Love in the Afternoon
Twice a day 1 head down to the kindergarten room for some education and
entertainment. I am supposed to be helping the children learn and, in return, they
provide me with occasional articles for the back ofthe bulletin. It seems like a fair
trade off to me.
One day last week the entire class was in the middle of a snowstorm as
they painted happy snowmen in the middle of their blue construction paper. One
young man had tackled his project with a little more enthusiasm than talent. As a
result, his hands, face, pants, and table were liberally smeared with globs of white
paint.
His young admirer, who was seated quite close, made it her job to clean up
His messy work area. That was fine. Who was he to complain if she wanted to be
Little Suzy Homemaker? Then the love struck young lady wiped off his hands. The
budding Lothario made no complaint, but he did have a slightly puzzled look on his
face. Finally the young lady applied the wipe to her fellow's face. Well, that was
the final straw. The young man stomped his foot and loudly proclaimed, "You are
not my mother!" Oh, the pain of unrequited love.
Love, laughter, and a little bit of drama seems to be the norm in
kindergarten. Smiles are more frequent than tears. Friendship is more common
than fights. Love is shown by hugs and tiny hands finding their way into yours.
Worst enemies become best friends by the time the next recess rolls around.
Yes, sometimes kindergarten is a nice place to visit. It is a reminder of the
innocence that we all started with and of the good that we all have inside of us.
Enjoy your day. Laugh and love and hug like you were five again. I bet God will
be smiling down at you from up above.
KEEPING CHRISTMAS
Let the star shine in your window;
Let the Christ come through your door,
And the hopes and joys of Christma
Will be yours forevennore.
As it shone for seer and shepherd,
So the star still shines for you
In its bright and ancient splendor,
Keeping Christmas ever new.
To keep Christmas-here's the secret
Wnich 1 gladly shall impart-
Keep the starlight in your window
And the Christ Child in your heart.
Minnie Klemme
The morning air feels like winter, and the stores
already look like Christmas. That must mean it is
Thanksgiving. If I ruled, we would obey the following
rules:
1. No snow until the first of December.
2. No Christmas lights, trees, or sweaters until the day
after Thanksgiving.
3. Celebrate Thanksgiving with praises to God for all
He has given and with love for those family member:
we are blessed to have with us this holiday season.
4. And come Friday morning, remember that our
Christian values and kindness are not allowed to be
put on a shelf until after the Black Friday nightmare
is over.
Have a wonderful Thanksgiving.
If you need a couple of cards painted, give me a call. A spotless
house? Donna is your woman. By the way, that is why Donna should never
cross the threshold of my home. It would give her nightmares for weeks.
If you need research done, make sure Pam is on your committee.
She will be able to find the answer to your question before you even realized
you had the question.
Choir? Karen and Karell can answer that call. Beverly, Megan, and
I can handle special programs. Lida writes wonderful letters of
encouragement. We have fixers and singers and artists and preachers in our
congregations. We have our own sound system guru with his own very
talented assistant.
However, one church member has been hiding her light under a
basket. Joann came to pick up a few things at our yard sale Friday night.
She stayed to unload boxes and organize tables. Before it was over with, the
place looked like Kevin and I actually knew what we were doing. Maybe
she could start on my attic next?
We have those who work quietly in the background, and those
who don't mind standing up front. That is what makes this church so great.
We allow our talents to shine and blend. We know that what we can't do,
someone will step up and help out with. We are a family, a family of God,
and that means working together to balance our strengths and weaknesses.
Fifteen years ago two young boys, who called themselves brothers, sat in a
middle school classroom watching the horrors of 911 unfold. They vowed that day
that they would fight to protect this country from such attacks. Several years later
these two young men graduated high school wearing light sabers hidden under their
gowns. After the ceremony, the two "brothers" fought mock battles down the halls
of JCHS.
One went to college. One went to work. One joined the Army, the other
the Marines. The young soldier was present at the hospital as the young Marine
welcomed his first son into the world. Both wrote wills and said goodbyes as
deployments loomed. The Marine missed the birth of his daughter, missed holding
her for the first time, because he was holding a rifle somewhere in Iraq. He sent
pictures to the soldier who was cawying his own rifle somewhere in Afghanistan.
The Marine came home to his young son and finally got to hold his
beautiful daughter. The "not so young" Marine also came home to a wife who
wasn't sure she could take it anymore. The soldier, who had also aged many years
in a short 12 months, came home. In his own words, he came home with, "A bad
shoulder, a bad knee, a bad divorce, and a crazy doctor who says I have PTSD." Do
these two"brothers"have regrets? Of course. But that vow taken 15 years ago has
never been one of them.
On September 11, 2001, our world changed. We, as a nation, realized our
vulnerability, We also realized our strength. Our strength is in our people. Our
strength is in those who serve us on a daily basis as police officers, firemen, and
soldiers. Our strength is in our willingness to sacrifice to preserve our safety and
our freedom. Our strength is in those who are willing to fight and those who are
willing to pray. Be in prayer this day for all those who lost their lives in the towers,
on a field, and in the Pentagon. Pray for those who serve and protect us daily.
We can't really look on this weekend as a job interview. After
all, Pastor Elliot and his family already have a boss: And, if we are
doing things right, we at Tea Creek have the same boss. Our boss has
many titles-The Man Upstairs, Jehovah, Creator, The Almighty, and
Father. I would like to think of it more as a merger.
Pastor Elliot is bringing is bringing his skill set as well as his
weaknesses to the table. He has a partner and a two man team that are
joining him in this possible merger. Pastor Elliot must be able to trust
us to treat the entire team with respect and love. Are we at Tea Creek
the ones who can bolster his skills and help to minimize the
weaknesses? More importantly, can he see the spirit of his boss, our
Heavenly Father, at work in this congregation?
Tea Creek has walked down a rocky path the last couple of
years. Is Pastor Elliot the man who can help us tum those rocks into a
monument to God? We have been divided, and we have been united.
We all know that in unity we find strength. Is Pastor Elliot the man to
harness those strengths so that we might pull together in the work of
our Lord? Answer these questions with prayer and faith as we go into
the vote this morning.
Just remember, no matter what this day might bring, the Big
Boss is going no where. And the benefits of working for His
company are out of this world.
MY FACTS OF LIFE
1. I am young enough to sit on the floor to read or play with the kids.
2. I am way too old to get back up off the floor when I am finished.
3. I am young enough to see stairs as a healthy alternative to elevators.
4. My knees are old enough to complain every step of the way.
5. I am young enough to love hot and spicy food.
6. I am old enough to hear my stomach ask in the wee hours of
the morning,"Why did you do that, Dummy?"
7. I am young enough to enjoy collecting my treasures at flea
markets and antique stores.
8. I am old enough to laugh at my children as they remind me on
a regular basis that my treasures will be their giant yard
sale/bonfire.
9. I am young enough to look forward to many more years with
my husband watching my children and grandchildren grow.
10. I am old enough to realize that the end may come at any time
and to place my faith in God to guide me on that final journey
whenever it might be.
Alex and Lindsey just left for a 10 day trip to Europe.
They will be traveling to several different countries as well
as taking a cruise. I am thrilled for them. They are in a
much better financial situation than Kevin and I ever
dreamed of at that age. They are enjoying themselves for a
few years before (I hope) the grand babies come along.
On the other hand, it is Europe and their itinerary
includes France. Alex was very reassuring,"Relax. They
had a much better chance of killing me when I was in the
Middle East." Got to have a talk with that boy one day
about the meaning of "reassurance."
Actually, I already know the definition. Reassurance
is the knowledge that God was watching over my son on
that military base in Kirghizstan. It is knowing that He saw
each tear that Lindsey shed as she waited by the phone or
watched the news. Reassurance is knowing God. He is in
the Middle East, in Europe, at home, and in our hearts.
That is reassurance. That is faith. That is love.
Brett and I were looking through some costume jewelry that I
had perchased. In one of the boxes was an old metal bracelet worn in
honor or memory of those MIA, POW, or KIA. I wasn't sure what to
do with the bracelet, but Brett was. He quickly found the soldier's
name and status-KIA. He also posted pictures of the bracelet online
hoping to return it to someone in the soldier's family. Within
minutes, over a hundred soldiers had viewed his post. It didn't matter
that most of these soldiers, including Brett, were probably born long
after this man died. Wnat mattered was the respect owed to a fallen
comrade.
Memorial Day is not all about the party and the picnic as I
heard some clueless D.J. announce earlier this week. It is about
taking a moment to honor those who have paid the ultimate price for
this nation, for you, and for me. It is about remembering those who
fought in order that you have the freedom to party and picnic, the
freedom to pray and practice your faith, the freedom to pursue your
version of the American Dream.
I am all for the party and the picnic. More importantly, I am
all for honoring those who lie in graves adorned with flags.
Remember and respect the sacrifices that that have kept this nation
free-say a prayer, visit a grave, or try to return a bracelet.
I am a hoarder-at home, at school, in my office, and in my
car. Those few times I do manage to throw something away, I find
myself needing it a week later. Well, maybe not. I am pretty sure that
I will never use all of the dishware I have accumulated in my attic and
my brooch collection might be a little large and I am not sure how
many beads and sequins are needed and
Actually, I am not too concerned about my collections. We
can still walk through most rooms of the house-except for the day
after one of Kevin's auctions. I can still sleep in my bed-unless I
have been going through boxes. You get the idea.
The real problem is that sometimes the hoarding extends into
my Christian walk. Childhood trauma, real or imagined slights from
family and friends, worries, fears, and pain all seem to accumulate in
my life the way my yard sale finds accumulate in the spare room.
I know I could hire Donna to come clean out my
junk/treasures. I just don't think she can do much about the clutter in
my heart and mind. I will keep praying because part of being a
Christian is allowing Christ to clean house in your heart and soul.
I know He is up to the job. I just have to allow Him in to those dark
and messy places.
TRIBUTE TO A MOTHER
Faith that withstood the shocks of toil and time;
Hope that defied despair;
Patience that conquered care;
And loyalty, whose courage was sublime;
the great deep heart that was a home for all-
Just, eloquent, and strong
In protest against wrong;
Wide charity that knew no sin, no fall'
The Spartan spirit that made life so grand,
Mating poor daily needs
With high, heroic deeds,
That wrested happiness from Fate's hard hand.
Louisa May Alcott
Yesterday I went to two banks trying to get money. The internet
was down. Even though I knew my account number, had ID and the check
was written on the church's account, no money.
We went to an auction and the power went out. The auction
continued because the microphones were battery powered. On the other
hand, the cashiers were having a terrible time because the electric adding
machines were down. Kevin finally handed the lady his cell phone with the
calculator after the she had made a couple attempts with pen and paper with
a couple of different answers.
Which brings me to cell phones. We followed a lady to Columbus
yesterday. Actually we followed from a good distance back because she
was weaving all over the road. When we finally got into town and stopped
behind her at a light, the reason for the wandering became obvious. She had
her cell phone in her hand and was texting while driving.
Don't get me wrong, I love technology-when it works and in the
right places. Next year our kids will be going to a one on one technology.
Each child from kindergarten on up will have an ipad or computer. Great-
until the internet goes down, the device is dropped, or 1,000 tech issues all
arise at the same time.
We text, email, e-vite, or facebook. We sometimes forget that
people need voices, hugs, and human contact. Jesus could have zapped His
message into being even in the non-techno time. Instead, He went out and
spent time with people. He hugged children, touched the untouchables, and
walked with His disciples. Shouldn't we try and do the same?
Incongruous(syn.) mismatched, incompatible, out of place,
inconsistent, odd
The word incongruous often describes me. I dress like a man,
being more comfortable injeeals and a t-shirt than I am in pink and
frills, yet I adorn those t-shirts with bright, gaudy, obviously feminine
brooches. I have a black thumb and have even managed to kill a
cactus by forgetting to water it. On the other hand, I can paint
beautiful flowers that even I can't manage to kill. I love country
music, but loud rock and roll from the 70's is my comfort sound. I
teach handwriting to kindergartners while my own signature is totally
illegible.
Incongruous(syn.) mismatched, incompatible, out of place,
inconsistent, odd
Jesus Christ-the son of God, the son of man. Jesus Ctuist
who left the perfection of heaven for a lowly stable in a sin darkened
world. Jesus Christ friend to beggars, fisherman, and the unwanted.
Jesus Cluist who was worshipped and praised on Palm Sunday as
King and crucified a week later for that same reason. Jesus Christ,
sinless, who willing gave up his life for the sins of us all.
Jesus Christ is the reason that an unworthy sinner such as me
can be washed white as snow and welcomed into the Kingdom of
Heaven. Incongruous, maybe? Miraculous, definitely.
In our kindergarten classroom we have many kids who have already
chosen their future careers. We have a future super spy. I can tell by the
way he lurks behind trees, around comers, and behind chairs as he checks
out the"enemy." Another young man is a budding paleontologist who is
quick to criticize the inaccuracies of my dinosaur drawings. One young lady
has announced her decision to be an art teacher. At a very young age, she is
already showing talent both in art and taking charge. Another young lady is
certain that she will be a princess when she grows up while yet another little
girl is determined to be the first female Ninja Turtle.
Of my four boys, only Jeremy is in the career he originally chose.
My wild child, Alex, is counseling troubled kids. My anti social, shy son
Brett is networking with businesses to find jobs for vets. My"I can't wait to
get out of high school"son Eric is now working on his masters. I think the
old saying is,"Man plans and God laughs. "
God may put these kindergarteners straight onto the path they have
chosen, but it is more likely that they will have many detours and direction
changes along the way. That's okay. Sometimes we learn more by our
mistakes than we do by our successes. As long as we look to the Lord for
our compass, we will eventually end up where He wants us to be-no matter
how far that is from our planned destination.
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