Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Our Most Vulnerable

This post isn't exactly going to appear on the marshmallow side of blogging.  Even so, hardly a day passes that we don't hear about yet ANOTHER missing or murdered child in this country.  With each passing report my heart aches as the headlines abound.  A few of the most recent ...

  • Authorities arrest suspect in toddler's death
  • Body of infant found near family home
  • Two year old thrown from bridge
  • Baby abducted while mother sleeps following a night of drinking
  • Infant abducted while mother goes for gas
  • Parents allege an intruder took their toddler
  • Skeletal remains of missing child discovered

There's a lot to be said about these & other heinous crimes perpetrated upon the most vulnerable among us; yet rarely do any of our own news agencies take on anything indepth or meaningful, much less morally-direct by way of an explanation.  That would not be politically correct, or atheistically kind.  It's as though we know these things occur; we're appalled by them, but digging for answers is much-too indicting.  

So I was heartened to see that someone, even someone located far from U.S. turf on European soil probing the subject-matter further ... never mind the fact that they overlooked an opportunity to connect some major, huge dots.   They write:
Every five hours a child dies from abuse or neglect in the US.
The latest government figures show an estimated 1,770 children
were killed as a result of maltreatment in 2009.
A recent congressional report concludes the
real number could be nearer 2,500.  

In fact, America has the worst child abuse
record in the industrialised world.

Good question. 

Another of the their findings?  Nearly half the child fatalities in 2009 were children under the age of one.   Bear in mind, these statistics were taken from 2009. By today's standards, such estimates could well look anemic.  It is not some slippery slope we've found ourselves upon.  No, we're caught dead-center in the gaping maw of a black hole!

You can read the BBC's report on their website (the link is provided below).  They offer a larger picture of this epidemic and quite a few - albeit complex - answers to their own "why?".  I saw nothing about godlessness or virtue -- or the lack thereof. 

How does one describe virtue by today's standards anyway? 

I wonder if ever we will connect these crime-dots to our schizophrenia about public displays of faith, or the seeking of Divine blessing or favor - much less moral laws or Divine accountability?  I wonder if the fact that we have systematically devalued life will ever be cited?  I wonder if these perilous times are indicative of the hope we - and the little ones - have for justice?  

Woe to those who call evil good
and good evil,
who put darkness for light
and light for darkness,
who put bitter for sweet
and sweet for bitter.
Isaiah 5:20

Jesus said,
“Let the little children come to me,
and do not hinder them,
for the kingdom of heaven
belongs to such as these.”
Matthew 19:14

NOTE:  I've turned off comments, asking instead that you take a few moments to pray - not only for the children, but for our country.  To have achieved such notoreity as "worst child abuse record in the industrialised world" is nothing to be proud of ... and this doesn't include even an iota of data pertaining to the hideous predatory sexual component linked to it.  That's subject-matter for even more prayer.

Also, I realize this is the 2nd post in a row with a rant flavor to it.  I'm not so sure the two aren't connected.   

News Source: BBC, U.K.

Friday, November 25, 2011

For Your Viewing Pleasure?

Her name was Mrs. Lauderback, and she lived directly behind & across the alley from us.  That's when they still had allies.  She was a widow - and an old lady (no doubt AT LEAST 50 then).  I didn't know her at all until that fateful day when she invited we neighborhood children over to watch her new television set.

T.V. was new & novel then; very few people even had one.  So, with our parent's permission some 8 of us curled up on the floor in front of the magical device.  To our great delight, Disneyland was about to air - no doubt it's Maiden Voyage.  Mrs. Lauderback was prepared for us, having slathered fresh bread with Peter Pan Peanut Butter for her wide-eyed guests.  16 eyeballs were riveted and we were, at once, hooked on all things televisiony (a new word).

Today that memory takes me to the long ago; a long ago which epicenter circa 1954.  It - and Disneyland - has become the hallmark of & synonymous to simpler times.

Last evening, following a grand day of giving thanks, I roamed my viewing options by way of some 50 channels.  I was disheartened to find nary a Variety program; and oh how I missed Perry Como.  I was perplexed that not one - nada - Shirley Temple movie was offered.  For the life of me I couldn't even find Snoopy & Charlie Brown. 

It occurred to me then (and many times previous) that you can tell a good deal about a culture by it's viewing preferences.    

From Father's Knows Best & Blondie, to Mr. Peepers & You Bet Your Life; from Our Miss Brooks and the Cisco Kid to Hawkeye & the Mohicans during the pinnacle of good, clean viewing until today (a span of some 60 years), evidence of our decline in taste is baffling.   Or can we consider it taste at all?

Light has come into the world,
but people loved darkness instead of light ... 
John 3:19

Right here I could launch into a rant that would, most likely, culminate some 50 pages hence.  I'll spare myself & you.  Suffice it to say, the line-up for programming offers pretty slim pickins' for one who longs for an invitation from Mrs. Lauderback. 

When one bases his life on principle,
99 percent of his decisions are already made. 
~ Author Unknown

Monday, November 21, 2011

The Core of Thankfulness

May all who seek You
rejoice and be glad in You;
may those who love Your salvation
always say,
“God be exalted!”
Psalm 70:4

Such a heartfelt prayer David offers.  Here we witness the essence of the believer's thankful heart - the headwaters, if you will:  a tenderness towards those that are still searching for the Lord, and a profound understanding & exclamation about His bountiful saving grace upon those already saved.

So eloquent.  So simple.  So powerful.  So humble. 

David's prayer, then, shall be my own Thanksgiving blessing for those still searching and for those that have been found, followed by his humble request to not shame or confuse either of them. 

Let God be exalted!  

Let not those who wait for You,
O Lord GOD of hosts,
be ashamed because of me;
Let not those who seek You
be confounded because of me,
O God of Israel.
Psalm 69:6

Sunday, November 20, 2011

In All Things, Give Thanks

In these days leading up to Thanksgiving I have been mindful of just, exactly, how many are my blessings. Some of you have been counting your own, one-by-one on your blogs, so I know you're taking inventory too. It's as though a mighty chorus is enjoined to give thanks.

For the record, I seek to capture here just a few of my own.  The list is by no means exhaustive, as you can be sure we'd all be exhausted if I produced such a list.

1) Yesterday, the love of my life & I celebrated our 45th wedding anniversary. It was a quiet celebration: pancakes & bacon in the nook while we watched the first of 2011's snow fall. A trip to Lowe's (hubby's favorite vacation destination). We then began to drag out seasonal decorations while listening to Christmas music. Simple delights all.

2) At 63, I am so grateful that both Terry & I are in good health. We have annoying maladies, like arthritis, but nothing that prevents living life to the fullest. 

3)  What is any list of gratitudes without the inclusion of family & friends?  I dare not begin listing names or we'd be at this for days on end.  Yet there are a few I must include, for my heart is full beyond expectation because of them:  Brad, Megan, Erik & Allie; Molly, Tom, Rylie, Megan & Ava; Kelly, Katrina, Katheryne, Kelly, Kaden & Kole.  My children, their spouses & grandchildren.

(Photo:  Terry, Kathleen, Brad, Megan, Kaden, Allie, Kole, Kelly, Katrina, Katheryne, Rylie, Molly, Tom, Kelly, Erik.  Missing:  Megan & Ava).

4)  My parents, Helen Evelyn Grinnell-Wells & James Uvo Wells.  They're both in Heaven's Land, but I can assure you their impact is felt still.  Their love of faith & family & fun (and all things yummy, clean & orderly) is a precious legacy.  Dad's birthday, his 109th, was just this past Thursday.  I celebrated it with my own quiet remembrance & joy.  Mother, who turned 102 in August, left an imprint on my heart to remind me of how dear are her "girls", even for eternity.  How they loved us.

5)  My sisters have always had a special place in my life.  I'm the youngest of four, with Dolores being 15 years older; Barb 13; and Carol 7.  In some ways both Carol & I were raised as "onlies", but in all ways we are devoted to each other.  How I love them.

(Photo:  Carol, Dolores, Kathleen & Barbara)

6) I have not left the best for last.  It's not last at all but, rather, the crown.  How could any collection of blessings be complete without acknowledging the Giver of all Good Things?  From my birth - both physically & spiritually - He has blessed, guided, gifted, protected, placed, challenged, forgiven, lead, saved (and kept on saving) me.  Whatever & whoever I have in my life are His doing; His blessing.  Today I can even include some things I heretofore had not considered blessings but, with the passage of time, have also become so.

For each new morning with its light,
For rest and shelter of the night,
For health and food, for love and friends,
For everything Thy goodness sends.
~Ralph Waldo Emerson

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

An Appointment With Destiny: Andrew

As I made my way from the parking lot into the Ross store this afternoon, I heard singing & guitar strumming - - one solitary voice that belonged to someone who was, at that time, obscured by the posts in front of the store.  As he came into view, I confess I readied & steadied myself for what would surely be begging.  I needn't have bothered.  He never looked up; and just kept strumming & singing.  I went about my business.

For the better part of 30 minutes I made my way through the store.  I hadn't intended on stopping at Ross at all this afternoon, but I made a last minute decision to drop in to see if I could find burgundy tree ornaments.  They didn't have any.  Drats.  But I did find new turkey prongs, so the stop wasn't a total waste of my time.  I made my way through the check out, then out of the store.

The young guitarist was still sitting on the cold ground with his guitar; quiet now.  Out of the corner of my eye (since I was trying my level best NOT to make eye contact with him, lest he beg) it looked like he was trying to warm himself.  I continued to my car, giving little thought to the guitarist.

Then I felt something ... A twinge?  A touch? A query?  I knew at once the Lord was nudging me and, though He rarely speaks to me in sentences, He does leave distinct impressions.  I interpreted Him to impress upon me:  Would it hurt you to ask the young man about his music? 

Odd question, but I wasted no time in turning around and making my way to the boy.

Hi there ... I couldn't help but hear your beautiful voice as I arrived a bit ago.  Tell me about your music.  I smiled at him then, and was greeted in return by his own large, warm smile.  I noticed at once how handsome he was in spite of being poorly clothed and under-dressed for today's cold weather.  His wavy light brown hair hung in wisps across his forehead.  He made me think of my oldest grandson.

With obvious pride he said:  I write all my own music.  What would you like to know?  Did you hear a song you liked?

Actually, I thought I heard you singing something with a Christian lyric.  Whatever it was, it was lovely.

He looked disappointed - - not for himself, but for me.  He said    I don't really know any Christian songs.

Something about this handsome young man tugged at my heart.  I couldn't begin to explain to you now why I stood there having this exchange with him. 

As I formed my next question I could see how cold were his hands.  He kept pulling them into his jacket sleeves - - a jacket far too small & lightweight to keep the damp from penetrating his bones.  He wasn't wearing socks, and his shoes were well worn tennis shoes.

I offered:  I imagine your parents are very proud of you; of how accomplished is your voice & guitar playing?

With little hesitation my new friend replied:  I don't mean to be disrespectful or crude, m'am, but my parents are pretty krappy (he used a more descriptive term).  They don't much care what I do or where I am.

Oh, I see.  So are you in school?

No ... but I am working on my G.E.D.  I'm working really hard at it too.

So how old are you?

16.  I'm just 16.

I then noticed that people had dropped change, or a dollar or two into his guitar case.  I put some money there myself as I asked him his name.


Andrew, before I leave, may I pray for you?  It seemed such a meager gesture, but I felt prompted to proceed.

I'd like that, came his immediate response.

I stooped to the ground where he was sitting and wrapped my right arm around him.  I bowed my head and began ...

Father, thank you for Andrew.  Thank you for gifting him with such an amazing voice, and such a heart for song.  We know You are all about music, and that the entire universe sings of your glory, so I ask that you reveal to Andrew how great a gift You've given him because of Your love for him, and because of the purpose you have for his life.  I ask that You protect & guide him, delivering him with Your salvation.  Fill him with great joy & a sense of belonging that You alone give.  Call him to Yourself that he would understand how valuable and loved he is.  Make a way for him where there seems to be no way. 

I ask, too, Father that you touch Andrew's mother & father.  Draw them to Yourself and save them.  Give them a sense of their value, and their son's.  Heal the broken places in this family.

Thank you for Your goodness & love.  Keep Andrew in your sights & care.

In Jesus name I ask this.  Amen

Throughout the prayer people came & went dropping change into Andrew's guitar case.  One woman came & remained, standing in silent prayer herself.

As I stood to leave, my new young friend looked up at me and said:  Thank you.  That means more to me than you can know.

I could no longer speak for the lump in my throat.  I simply nodded, waved and walked away; but ... oh, how I wanted to take that boy home!

An unintended stop.  A nudge.  An appointment with destiny.  I'm having trouble keeping it together.

Andrew.  It derives from Greek and means "man, warrior".  Somehow I knew that.

Photo:  Google Stock

Sunday, November 13, 2011

Coming Through & Going On

 I instruct you in the way of wisdom
   and lead you along straight paths.
When you walk, your steps will not be hampered;
   when you run, you will not stumble.
Hold on to instruction, do not let it go;
   guard it well, for it is your life. 
Proverbs 4:11-13

A good portion of my life has been spent in the offices of various business disciplines - - largely manufacturing.  Everywhere my briefcase traveled it landed in the realm of Marketing or Customer Service.  In these I came to understand servanthood in a much broader sense than I'd known it previously.

Long ago & far away I entered the work world by way of Pacific NW Bell.  There, in much the same fashion as Laugh-in's Ernestine (Lilly Tomlin), I would utter my most profound "Is this the party to whom I am speaking?" (snort-snort).  Laughter aside ... I learned to handle crisis calls as well as local long distance.  Problem solving was the day's by-word.  It was the Viet Nam era, so I patched through many a soldier to a loved one state-side.  Split shifts & long weekends, which made for many a newlywed challenge, eventually sent me packing.    

I took a few interim steps - several in a more personal manufacturing manner:  motherhood.  But once the children went to school I found myself working for the world's largest grower & shipper of fresh cut Christmas trees & floral foliage: The Kirk Company.  Behind the administrative scenes I allied my efforts with those of Marketing and, after a few years found myself captaining the Customer Service ship.  A financial blight hit hard, rendering this once mighty giant of all things Christmas to a shadow of it's former self.  After eight years I moved on.

After a few years of bouncing between employment walls (or lack thereof), I made my way to the company I'd call home for ten years:  The Lucks Company.   Within the halls of all things Bakery, Lucks provided a wide array of commercial baking equipment, bakery supplies and decorative items to wholesale bakeries, grocery chains, schools & other institutions.  My segue to this industry began, again, in Customer Service though it eventually lead to my heading up numerous departments:  Customer Service, Inside Sales, Warehouse, Purchasing and Shipping.  What might have been work or stress to another, became my hobby - a pass time I relished for ten years until the day we decided to move to Arizona.

In Arizona I wrestled with the employment market, uncertain if I wanted to work at all, but certain I didn't want to retire at the ripe old age of 52.  Semi-retirement sounded like a good compromise.  So it was that I heeded a friend's call to work for Remuda Ranch, a large Christian medical facility devoted to the treatment of eating disorders in women.  There, hidden away in the smallest office at the farthest corner of the Administration Facility, I worked alongside the Executive Director.  Need I say this was a swooping descent from my former life?  It was, and it took me quite some time to adjust to this relatively insignificant role.  I grew to love it, and was saddened to bid farewell when hubby's employment took us from Arizona to California for one very brief season.

Upon our return to Arizona a good friend and State Farm executive hollered for help.  Responsible for numerous agencies via their Regional Corporate offices, he was left without an administrator and asked that I come aboard.  I'd no sooner gotten my land legs in this new & strange industry, when my pastor asked me to join our church's staff.  Seems even churches have need of infrastructure, and I was delighted beyond words to climb aboard.  So it is that I packed my satchel of skills and made the move.  I remained there for four years until we returned to Washington State just last year.

So why have I blogged about this today?  It's certainly more reflection than boast because I've had so little to do with how the path was laid out, or even in the going upon it.  I didn't study long for, or seek hard after it.  It's to remind myself that every place & every season - now as then - has been & will be ordered by the Lord.  There have been so very few days in the realm of work that I could call unpleasant.  Most have been full & rewarding & challenging.  I have been so blessed to work with & alongside some of the most dedicated teams you could ask for - - just one among the many.  How could I have orchestrated all that?

So why do I need a reminder?  Because I continue to wait upon Him for direction as it concerns the what now?/what next? questions I have.  I may have retired in the world's eyes, but all the aforementioned has been and will continue to be used for His glory - of that I'm certain!  Even now, in this quieter side of living, much is being readied. 

Above my kitchen window is this little signage:  If God has brought you to it, He will bring you through it.   Another, like it, is a great companion:  God rarely does a work THROUGH you until He's done a work IN you.

He did.  He does.  He will.  I like that.

The LORD makes firm the steps of 
the one who delights in him
Psalm 37:23

A person’s steps are directed by the LORD. 
How then can anyone understand their own way?
Proverbs 20:24

Saturday, November 12, 2011

Roaring Lessons

“I am sad and lonely.
Lay your hands on my mane
so that I can feel you are there
and let us walk like that.”
Aslan, from The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe

It wasn't until my advanced years that I became a fan & semi-resident of Narnia.  I don't know what, exactly, it was about that place that compelled me, but I do know that I recognized Aslan right away.   At first the sight & sound of him scared me like nothing in this world had ever scared me before.  Then, once he beckoned me to lay my hand upon his mane, all dread diminished.   

I come-and-go from Narnia at will now, though I've found a way in and out that doesn't require a wardrobe.   I wish I could say I live there but, alas, that's not possible yet.  Aslan's kingdom, the whole of it, is yet to come.  Thus I enter & exit in great anticipation of that day. 

May I also say that the lion's roar has new meaning these days.   Long a National Geographic fan, I have seen enough Serengeti tales to know that lion's connote danger, complete with visions of sharp fangs & stalking predators.  Not so in my mind's eye.  To me, their roar serves to remind me of Aslan's power - power that will one day vanquish every true marauder; power that protects me in ways I cannot possibly fathom this side of Narnia.

The LORD shall go forth as a mighty man,
He shall stir up jealousy like a man of war:
He shall cry, yea, roar; He shall prevail against his enemies.
Isaiah 42:13

The LORD shall roar from on high,
and utter his voice from his holy habitation
Jeremiah 25:30

The LORD also shall roar out of Zion,
 and utter his voice from Jerusalem;
and the heavens and the earth shall shake:
but the LORD will be the hope of his people,
and the strength of the children of Israel.
Joel 3:16

What joy it is to count Narnia as my Homeland, and Aslan my King Who roars.

Once a king or queen of Narnia,
always a king or queen.
May your wisdom grace us until the stars
rain down from the heavens.
Aslan, from The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe

Friday, November 11, 2011

Lest We Forget

It never hurts to remember ...

1.       You shall have no other gods before me.
2.      You shall not make for yourself any carved image, or any likeness of anything that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth; you shall not bow down to them nor serve them. For I, the Lord your God, am a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers on the children to the third and fourth generations of those who hate me, but showing mercy to thousands, to those who love Me and keep My commandments.
3.      You shall not take the name of the Lord your God in vain, for the Lord will not hold him guiltless who takes His name in vain. 
4.      Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy. Six days you shall labor and do all your work, but the seventh day is the Sabbath of the Lord your God. In it you shall do no work: you, nor your son, nor your daughter, nor your manservant, nor your maidservant, nor your cattle, nor your stranger who is within your gates. For in six days the Lord made the heavens and the earth, the sea, and all that is in them, and rested the seventh day. Therefore the Lord blessed the Sabbath day and hallowed it.
5.      Honor your father and your mother, that your days may be long upon the land which the Lord your God is giving you.
6.      You shall not murder.
7.      You shall not commit adultery. 
8.     You shall not steal.
9.      You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor.
10.  You shall not covet your neighbor’s house; you shall not covet your neighbor’s wife, nor his manservant, nor his maidservant, nor his ox, nor his donkey, nor anything that is your neighbor’s.”

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

Fear Done Right

For the past year I have been wading into & through the scriptures by way of various inductive (precepts) studies.  If you're unfamiliar with the system, it's basically a method of wringing out every possible drop of understanding from the text & all others associated with it.  It makes a Berean of each student, allowing the scripture to interpret itself. In the end, no matter what book or text you approach, you have a better understanding of the who, what, where, when & why of it. 

Our most recent study was produced by Precepts Ministries, Kay Arthur; and our selected text was the Book of Jonah.  A key element of the study was on fearing God - something Jonah claimed but didn't demonstrate.  Had he considered these ten questions put to us at the study, his storyline would have read very different from the collection we have today. 

1.  Do you fear God enough to obey Him when you don't want to?
2.  Is your fear of God weak enough to think you can disobey & get away with it?
3.  Is your fear of God weak enough to allow you to sleep through calamity?
4.  Is your faith so weak that others would question how you could profess to know God & live the way you do?
5.  Is your faith in God so weak the world puts you to shame because their fear of/respect for God is greater?
6.  Do you fear God enough to pray in the midst of your distress, or is it your last resort?
7.  Do you fear God enough to know there is no calamity apart from God?
8.  Do you fear God enough to understand & appropriate His grace?
9.  Do you fear God enough to curb your empty vanities & its appetites so you're not lured by the world and its vanities?
10. Do you fear God enough to realize that salvation is from the Lord?

If ever there's a Book of Kathleen added to the Canon (I know, that's impossible), I would hope the collection would be unlike Jonah's - - or this world's, for that matter. 

Fearing God means having such a reverence for Him 
that it has a great impact on the way we live our lives. 
The fear of God is respecting Him, obeying Him, 
submitting to His discipline, and worshipping Him in awe.

Saturday, November 5, 2011

William's & Richard's Voyage

It took me completely by surprise.  There I was, out along the lofty & lengthy limb of mother's  ancestral Grinnell bough when I made my discovery.  It occurred at the intersection of Jonathan Grinnell & Abigail Ford in the late 1600s/early 1700s.  This was the segue that lead me through the labyrinth of generations that had, but a few years passed, landed at Plymouth by way of the Mayflower.  I could almost smell the salt air.

I wrote of my discovery briefly in another post From the Shire, but here I want to focus on those pilgrims in a more personal way.  Not only do I count William Brewster, the Mayflower's Chaplain, among my kin, but Richard Warren as well.  Both men were signatory to the Mayflower Compact, and both men sent descendants onto the lofty Grinnell limbs of my lineage.

Pilgrim.  Puritan.  They are distinct words that often engender some sense of uber-religious, if not altogether a narrow-mindedness.  I've been doing my level best to sort this out, as nothing I've read or discovered about these voyaging ancestors leads me to believe they were either.  And, believe me, MUCH has been written of them!

That's not to say there weren't abuses or extremes by some.  Who can ever forget the Salem Witch Trials?  Yet the folks that landed at Plymouth were not cut of that cloth.  Though Separatists, they loved their pagan Indian neighbors & unbelieving friends, relying on them greatly in order to survive.  In most instances they were loved equally in return, though later they found themselves betrayed & in much danger by these strangers (the pilgrim word for the un-pilgrim).

Given their Separatist leanings, my earlier fathers embarked on a mission that was, in the main, religious.   From nearly every angle, the history of their journey has been documented.  But even these 250+ years hence, I can almost see them sitting before today's television or internet, talking together about the grave conditions on the ground in their homeland where matters of faith are concerned.  They were ardent in their love of God's word; abhorred by the mounting oppression on it, and on them - from both the political & Church realms.  These were, then, the seeds of their defection; seeds already well-planted & fertilized in the soil of the Reformation. 

I have developed a deep interest in these people & their times - - for obvious & not-so-obvious reasons.  As I make my way along my ancestral boughs & through much material & history I am intrigued, challenged, blessed, concerned, proud.   Had I been there - in their times, amidst great & perilous turmoil - I'd like to think I've have stood tall in the face of opposition & oppression too  - - then packed my trunk (Bible first), donned my fortitude & set sail.  Afterall, a noble man makes noble plans, and by noble deeds he stands!  (Isaiah 32:8)

Do not be yoked together with unbelievers. 
For what do righteousness 
and wickedness have in common? 
Or what fellowship can light have with darkness? 
What harmony is there between Christ and Belial
Or what does a believer have in common with an unbeliever?  
What agreement is there between the temple of God and idols? 
For we are the temple of the living God. As God has said:
   “I will live with them and walk among them,
and I will be their God, and they will be my people.”
Therefore, “Come out from them 
   and be separate, says the Lord.
(2 Corinthians 6:14-17 / Isaiah 52:11)


Footnote:  as isolationist-sounding as was the Separatist creed, it was hardly that in the end.  They personified - or attempted to - how one could be in the world, but not of it.  I would do well to consider that from their perspective, for I could learn much from their experience.

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

October's Wings

For man, autumn is a time of harvest, 
of gathering together.  
For nature, it is a time of sowing, 
of scattering abroad.  
~ Edwin Way Teale

And so it goes ... October comes to a festive close, and the holiday season begins in earnest.  But I dare not let October pass with paying due respect to the sassy joys & grandeur it has afforded.   

You're welcome to gather awhile and catch a glimpse of life here ...

 What sister visit is complete without a shopping trip?
Carol & Dolores 


Then there's lunch ...

 Kathleen, Dolores, Carol
Getting ready for the Open House 
(for family & friends to come by & 
say "howdy" to Carol & Hal)

As I headed home one day, I noticed the Sunrise Pond near us was framed & bedazzled in all God's finest array.  I stopped and looked long, thinking of Judy when I did (she has a knack for finding & filming nature's beauty). 

This is what I see from my kitchen window.  
Fir trees, Maples (nearly naked now), 
Dogwood, Alder and a plethora of shrubbery.

The first knock for Halloween came from this little guy:  Baby Blue-Cycloped-Eyed Beast (Kole).  It's hard to believe he's already 16 months old.

Does it get any better?

Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, 
and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth 
seeking the successive autumns.
~ George Eliot