Sassy Granny

Blogger Blahs

2012-01-30T17:44:00.002-07:00

I dare say, I've got the Blogger Blahs. Try as I might, I have absolutely nothing sage, or sound, or simple, or sassy to flesh out here. Mind you, I've thumbed through photos, considered a few devotionals, dug around the old memory bank, prayed, flipped through a book or two and checked the calendar. I've even attempted to glean something from current events.

Lackluster is the best description for what's ruminating (or not) in my thoughts. It means: lacking in sheen or brilliance, or vitality; dull, mediocre. Not exactly sassy.

Cactus Diaries

2012-01-26T06:37:00.000-07:00

Here I am, roosted among friends

& family in SUNNY Arizona.

This is a welcome alternative

to ice storms & power-less homes,

and great fun to boot.

Our church family here have hosted

some great gathering events.

As a result, by Saturday I'll be

moving into my next larger jean size.

We sisters have talked non-stop,

with no end of words in sight.

Today will be yet another

such gab-fest.

The downside to my sojourn is

that I've had limited or no access

to the internet. Downside?

Well, maybe just a minor

inconvenience.

I will return to WA State over

the weekend and begin catching up

(& checking up) on all of you.

Until then ... you are in my

thoughts & prayers.

Dog Sled Diaries

2012-01-21T06:25:00.003-07:00

What a week it's been in the Pacific Northwest! Many of you have seen news footage of the snow & ice that assaulted us - - a rather rare phenomenon for this part of the world.   On the one hand, a very welcome & magical wonderland. On the other, a wicked descent into all things cold & immovable & crunchy.

For several days we were without power or ... rather ... I was without power. Hubby left town before the storm's onset, having made his way to a conference in WARM Palm Springs a few days prior.  That meant the pioneer in me kicked into roughing it gear; and rough it I did!

Some 500,000+ people in the region have been without power for several days.  The storm's rarity-quotient means few, including utilities & road crews are prepared for such as this. The fact that it included an ice storm meant the assault was particularly virulent, packing a one/two punch!

On Thursday I managed to disable the automatic garage-door-opener to pull my Toyota Highlander out onto the banana peel streets in my neighborhood. It handles well in most conditions, and I was hopeful it would make it to my sister's so we could run a few much-needed errands. That's what pioneers do (cheesy grin). We actually had a good time since we had most roads to ourselves, but I was glad to return home before the temps plummeted again into the 20s.

All through each dark night it was eerie listening to the ice-encrusted Pine Trees giving up their snow & ice-laden limbs with loud cracks, followed by equally loud thuds as they fell to the ground.  I had visions of one-such thud coming through my roof, and that to disturb my sleeplessness.

Well, I survived the ordeal - - for surely it was all of that!. In fact, yesterday my son delivered my sister Dolores & me to the airport where we proceeded to board a plane for Phoenix to meet up with sisters Barbara & Carol. With a very convincing and certainly Christian neener-neener we bid farewell to the white world beneath us.

I survived AND I escaped to live another day ... this one in Phoenix.

P.S. Years ago I purchased a crank radio, and I can tell you I was very grateful to have it as a link to the outside world since I had no T.V., no internet, and even no phone when my battery went dead. If you don't have one, all I can say is "get one"! They're relatively inexpensive & a must have.

The Big Stumble

2012-01-15T10:30:00.004-07:00

We all stumble in many ways.

Anyone who is never at fault in what

they say is perfect, able to keep their

whole body in check.

James 3:2

The headline read: U.S. Marine Corp Soul Searching After Video.

Souls are a fairly significant place to initiate an investigation.

You have probably read or heard about this disturbing story yourself; this cadre of U.S. Marines that have come under scrutiny for their hideous desecration of deceased, Taliban enemy combatants. I doubt they have any inkling of the avalanche they'd create with this snowball.

The guilty parties consisted of a few - four in all - and today the Marine Corp has the herculean job of clearing it's once pristine name because of their actions. In addition to the soul searching, you can be certain there will be a fearless & thorough investigation about what went so terribly awry - and this to ensure the avoidance of so egregious an act in the future.

How sad that the behavior of so few have blighted the name of so many. In this instance, their actions have even imperiled ALL American military & citizens. Our enemies now have new fuel to fire their anger.

As I've considered the story and the requisite soul searching it's engendered, I cannot help but connect THAT dot to another...

It is equally sad & disturbing when reports roll in about a believer's fall from grace (I'm not keen about that term as grace is grace; we don't climb UP to it, so it's hardly possible we can fall DOWN from it; but for lack of another analogy I'll stick with it), especially when that fall involves a public figure like a pastor or priest, or someone with a significant ministry, media post, etc. Highly visible descents get huge public coverage.

More than a mere stumble, these nosedives are often so hideous as to receive much scrutiny & legal action - as well they should. Trouble is, that scrutiny and it's companion, disdain, are often directed at Christianity in general, and God in particular. Like those wayward Marines, a few Christians call down disrepute upon the many, and even upon the Lord Himself.

It's not my place or intent to render judgment against them. God knows I've had plenty a slide of my own! Besides, we onlookers rarely have the whole story. So this is as much a reminder to self as anything: none of us very far from a fall, and a serious one at that.

It's troublesome when guilt for the crimes-and-misdemeanors of a handful - be it Marines or Christians or any other entity - falls on the innocent. And Who is more innocent than He Who was judged, found innocent, killed anyway (for the fallen, be they Marines or Christians), so that grace itself would never, ever plummet?

It is the very reason we who believe do not condemn the falling or fallen (even if the fall-er be ourselves). It is why we protect our testimony & witness ... not to gloat or strut or to crown ourselves worthy ... but to esteem the Name above all names.

The soul is always a good place to begin any investigation.

Do not destroy the work of God

for the sake of food. All food is clean,

but it is wrong for a person to eat anything

that causes someone else to stumble.

Romans 14:20

Lord, the LORD Almighty,
may those who hope in you

not be disgraced because of me;
God of Israel,
may those who seek you

not be put to shame because of me.
For I endure scorn for your sake,
and shame covers my face.

Psalm 69:6-7

Revisiting Destiny

2012-01-12T16:35:00.005-07:00

Last November I shared a story about a chance encounter with a young man by the name of Andrew. As I walked away from him that day, little did I know that our paths would cross again.

It's been nearly two months, but that's exactly what happened this week; and again just outside the Ross Store where first this man-warrior made entry into my heart.

Often I have thought of that day ... and of Andrew. Whenever I drive near the store I always peak to see if he's there's; disappointed when he isn't. I watch young people as they walk along the sidewalks, wondering if I might spot him toting his guitar. When he comes to mind, I pray for him.

On Tuesday, I took stock of my white turtleneck and decided it had to be replaced. I'm a T.J. Maxx, Marshall's, Ross sort of girl, so I dashed into the closest of the three and there scored the needed turtleneck at a bargain price.

As I exited the store, a faint though familiar strum of a guitar beckoned my attention. I glanced quickly to the right, and there sat Andrew, right where I'd left him November 15. He was sitting on the sidewalk, his guitar case open in front of him, and singing a lovely tune I later learned he'd composed. He wasn't there when I'd entered the store, but there was no doubt he'd settled in during the time it had taken me to make my purchase.

I almost ran. "Hi Andrew. Do you remember me? I'm the lady that talked with & prayed for you last November."

The recognition was immediate as a huge grin formed on his acne spotted, handsome face. "Yes ... yes, I remember. I also remember how much you helped me that day."

For the next ten minutes I caught up on Andrew's life...

His friend's mother had sorta adopted him (his words) & was looking out for him. She had even bought him a Christmas gift - - a hoody he was proudly wearing, and which I assessed to be his ONLY Christmas present.
He'd enrolled himself in a class to help with the getting of his G.E.D. - - a class he proudly reported that he'd paid for all by himself.
In order to make good on his G.E.D.-getting, he has been rising early in order to walk an hour to get to his class.
His parents still aren't doing so well, though he didn't elaborate much.
He got a haircut.
He has no siblings or family members in the area (in response to a question I'd posed).

On we chatted as I asked more-and-more questions about his life, his music, his aspirations.

Time came to leave and once again I asked Andrew if I could pray for him. His "yes" came so quick it make me laugh out loud; and as I knelt next to him he leaned into my arms like my 19 month-old grandson sometimes does. My heart both soared & ached. I found it extremely difficult to pray aloud with so large a lump impeding my speech.

Lord, thank you for Andrew, and for again allowing our paths to cross. What a dear & talented young man he is, and I thank you for that. Thank you for protecting him, and for again making known to him Your love. I believe You have an incredible plan for his life, Lord, so please help Andrew as You direct his steps. Help him to walk in the way You would have him go.

With an "Amen." spoken, Andrew looked with his tear-filled eyes into my tear-filled eyes. He said: "Wow, that was so full of love & kindness it made me cry."

"I know, Andrew; I know. That's what God's love feels like, and He obviously wants you to know all about it. If you get your hands on a Bible, be sure to read Psalm 139. He wrote it for you."

As I readied to leave, I handed Andrew my phone number, telling him as I did: "If ever you need someone to talk to, please call me". I don't normally take such risks, but something compelled me to hand it over.

Just as I'd felt the last time, I had a hard time keeping it together as I drove home and throughout the remainder of the day.

Today I have concluded that there will be another chance encounter with my musician friend.

Chance. In God's economy that's as good as certainty, So it is with certainty that I plan to purchase Andrew's first Bible. I will keep it in my car for the next time our paths cross; and cross they will.

Photo Courtesy of Google

Bedrock

2012-01-10T07:20:00.004-07:00

No, this post is not about the mossy, dinosaur laden, rock-quarry burg inhabited by Fred & Wilma Flintstone - - although you must agree that Bedrock might well be a fine place of origin?

Origins. Now that's the real context of this post.

Bedrock is the bottom line; the very place from which things emanate, including origins. It's where I've intended to go this year, as if set upon a real trek towards a real destination - - as real as Fred & Wilma's hometown, or my own.

Today's bedrock: trust.

All over the blogosphere I have encountered many of you visiting that place. Some have claimed it as their word for the year. Others have connected it to an AHA! moment. Still others have felt compelled to remind us of it's value. And don't we need reminding? No matter the reason, many of us have come home to trust, a bedrock position if there be any.

What about trust makes it such a seminal element?

Here's what I have concluded: Without trust, none of the other bedrock locales are easily located, much less visited. Without trust, we do not have faith; we do not obey. We cannot see past our own devices. We mistakenly crown someone or something else (aka bank account, good looks, etc.) that cornerstone from which we derive security. So long as it or they stay put, we trust. They move, we're shattered. Not very bedrocky.

Thus trust is bedrock; the sure foundation for those needful things that simply must begin there. We may crown some other with it's prestigious title, but genuine trust takes a dim view of any & all counterfeits or usurpers.

Oh, that's not to say I don't trust people or things. I trust my car to start & perform according to the manufacturer's specifications provided I give it proper care & maintenance. I trust my Social Security check will arrive on time provided the government doesn't go bankrupt or deem me unworthy. I trust my bathroom scales to reveal the true nature of my late-night refrigerator raids.

But all those aforementioned trusts are conditional. Their bedrock is based on some other bedrock; something required to keep them foundational, and even functional. Not so true bedrock. Like gravity, it is sure & solid & steadfast no matter what; and whether or not I place my trust in it or not.

Bedrock never hinges on me.

How simple would life be were I to simply trust that which alone is trustworthy?

Now this I know:
The LORD gives victory to his anointed.
He answers him from his heavenly sanctuary
with the victorious power of his right hand.
Some trust in chariots and some in horses,
but we trust in the name of the LORD our God.
Psalm 20:6-7

Fear of man will prove to be a snare,
but whoever trusts in the LORD is kept safe.

Proverbs 29:25

A Thing of Beauty

2012-01-08T07:08:00.000-07:00

Reaching deep within the reservoir where my memories are stored, I discovered anew something quite old yet refreshingly youthful. I dare say it is as beautiful today as it was when first stored in the keeping-place.

In my youth, the grade school I attended allowed the "big" kids (7th & 8th graders) to attend the Seattle Symphony twice a year. The first time I had such an opportunity I was anything but enthused. Mostly I was excited about the bus excursion that would allow we prepubescent energy balls to giggle & wiggle to & fro. Then, when I realized I was to sit in a balcony, I knew I had been born for such a heady experience.

To my surprise & amazement, the bus trip & beckoning balcony were nothing as compared with being captivated by the symphony's performance. Never had I sat in the presence of so many musical notes, each & all colliding to create the most fantastic sounds. I was smitten.

Beauty comes at rare times and in rare forms. It's not always easy to see or to hear, or even to define. But we know it when we come upon it. It is then that we place it carefully into the reservoir that is quintessentially for beautiful things. Then, on days like today when we're rummaging around for a beautiful thought or remembrance, there it is.

I've heard it said: "Beauty is to love what Christ loves.", so that's become my subscription. I have concluded it to be the vital ingredient in all recipes calling for beauty. No doubt that's what Bach, Mendelssohn, Handel & other Christian composers had in mind when they orchestrated the great, stirring & beautiful instrumentations that seized me as a young girl.

Some say "Art imitates life". I'm not so sure.

Where beauty is concerned, I have concluded - rightly or wrongly - that life imitates art.

Thus it is that the year to live beautifully insists I discover new and anew all that Christ loves.

... whatever is true, whatever is noble,

whatever is right, whatever is pure,

whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—

if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—

think about such things.

Philippians 4:8

What Sisters Do

2012-01-06T07:24:00.003-07:00

It never occurred to my parents that their four daughters would one day find themselves spread out, far apart. Theirs was a community of proximity, where family lived & held tightly together. Mother worked hard at that tether. She watched for fraying & tatters, applying lavish doses of nurture & love (sometimes with a sharp tongue) to ensure her girls were a permanent thread in the fabric that comprised our collective lives. She took no easy road & made no lazy effort to gather & foster her brood.

Today we four sisters live miles - - states & countries - - apart. Yet proximity is not an issue. Funny how easy it is to remain connected when one purposes to do so.

Two weeks from today we four shall gather in Arizona where #2 sister, Barbara resides. #3 sister, Carol will make her way from Mexico, while #1 sister, Dolores & I (forever #4, the baby) fly the friendly skies from here in WA State to join them. For the better part of a week we will do what sisters do, at least these sisters - seize the opportunity to fortify bonds, checking for ourselves those frays or tatters that occupied our mother. We will laugh & chatter, pour over God's word together, shop, munch & make memories. It is to honor each other, but to honor mother & daddy too. They would be proud.

So am I.

Sisters are different flowers

from the same garden.

~Author Unknown

She is your mirror, shining back at you

with a world of possibilities.

She is your witness, who sees you at your worst

and best, and loves you anyway.

She is your partner in crime,

your midnight companion, someone who knows

when you are smiling, even in the dark.

She is your teacher, your defense attorney,

your personal press agent, even your shrink.

Some days, she's the reason you

wish you were an only child.

~Barbara Alpert

The Year to Live Beautifully

2012-01-01T08:46:00.001-07:00

Though we travel the world over

to find the beautiful, we must carry it with us

or we find it not.

~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

I made it! I jumped (in truth, I slept through) the divide between 2011 & 2012 and lived to post another day.

In my email inbox this morning is the usual conglomeration of needful and not-so-needful stuff. I wonder when all the deals & web-busters & year end super sales will subside, although now they've morphed into new year's super sale ads ad-nauseum.

Being the curious sort, I opened one such email - - an ad for vitamin supplements (and boy don't I need them these days?). I didn't get far before stumbling across the retailer's proclamation assigned to 2012: The Year to Live Beautifully.

Unbeknownst to my solicitor I knew I'd found my marching orders for the coming year as if the Lord Himself had handed them to me - and they had nothing whatsoever to do with vitamins.

For weeks - since long before Thanksgiving - I've been pondering ... and journaling ... and waiting ... and praying about what would be my 2012 focus. So it was no blah ah hah! with which I claimed this.

How does one center their intentions on living beautifully? It sounds easy, just like the ad promised. But, as Simone Weil tells us, that sort of beauty, "always promises, but never gives anything." And I'm no fool - - such things may work for a season, or in the world of strong arms & better digestive health, but the world's proclamations are the very antithesis of what is beautiful in God's economy.

Nothing in human life, least of all in religion,

is ever right until it is beautiful.

~ Harry Emerson Fosdick

So it is that I claim 2012 as The Year to Live Beautifully. Such beauty will require treatments beyond what is offered at the spa, the health food store, Victoria's Secret or the jewelry counter at Macy's.

To discover a flaw in our makeup is a chance to

get rid of it, and add a new line of

beauty to our life.

~ Billy Sunday

It's not that I haven't sought to live beautifully before. Surely true believers everywhere make this a daily aim. In reality, ours is a quest to live beautifully always. Period! But this particular summons has a different feel to it. While affirming all those other days & ways in which I've sought to honor the Lord, this year I will make it my focus to find my way to the bedrock of virtue. He alone knows the way.

Living Beautifully is (but not limited) to ...

be of good courage
let my light shine
wear the Law of Kindness upon my tongue
be content without condition
craft noble plans
consider & prepare for the Lord's return
speak truth-in-love whenever doing so will honor both hearer & the Lord
walk out my days, face-forward & with confidence
listen more; speak less
give everyone the benefit of the doubt
look for the blessing beneath both sunny & cloudy skies
never overlook an opportunity to offer hope & encouragement

Wishing you a Year to Live Beautifully.

The flower of youth never appears more beautiful

than when it bends toward the sun of righteousness.

~ Matthew Henry

He has shown you, O mortal, what is good.
And what does the LORD require of you?
To act justly and to love mercy
and to walk humbly with your God.

~ Micah 6:8

Ring In the True

2011-12-30T07:53:00.000-07:00

Ring out the old, ring in the new,
Ring, happy bells, across the snow:
The year is going, let him go;
Ring out the false, ring in the true.
~ Alfred, Lord Tennyson

Many of you shared some rather inspiring, if not altogether humorous grown-up Christmas lists this season. So it's quite likely you're crafting an equally grown-up New Year's list of ~~resolutions~~, ~~wishful thinking~~, intentions. I know I am.

I like that word: intentions. It speaks of responsibility & accountability; of purposefulness; of will. It's the antithesis of leaving things to chance, or of expecting that someone else will fulfill my intentions.

By being intentional, it means I have skin in the game. It means I'm willing to pay the price (ostensibly, because I've counted the cost) for those things I've selected, a willingness that means there can be no playing of the blame game.

For many weeks now I've been making notes in my journal, collecting ideas & scriptures, considering where I've been (the rearview mirror), and wondering where I'd like to go. No ... that's not quite true. I've actually been wondering what it is that the Lord has in mind for the next steps of my journey. Rightly or wrongly, I have concluded that 2012 is long stretch.

Crafting a grown up New Year's list is no easy task, but in order to ring in the true, it is well worth the exercise!

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

Proverbs 20:24

LORD, I know that people’s lives are not their own;
it is not for them to direct their steps.

Jeremiah 20:23

This is true: I'll have no more to say here for 2011. The pages on the year are now sealed, a calligraphy'd "The End" emblazoned on their backside. Therein lies all the adventures, joys, challenges, sorrows, frustrations, learning, memory-making, concerns, curiosities and losses of a year now packaged for history. From now on, to get at them I'll have to again use the rearview mirror - - not all bad if I'll be honest with myself. And quite good if I'll acknowledge just how much I owe to the Lord in their coming-and-going. Sometimes blessings actually hide amidst a loss or a frustration, which is often overlooked until the passage of time seasons such.

This is also true: I'll return in 2012 and, hopefully, have much to share within the pages of this entirely new book. Fresh starts are just that, fresh. I will also be around to collect those things that are born of your grown-up New Year's list.

Farewell 2011.

Above all else, guard your heart,

or everything you do flows from it.

Keep your mouth free of perversity;

keep corrupt talk far from your lips.

Let your eyes look straight ahead;

fix your gaze directly before you.

Give careful thought to the paths for your feet

and be steadfast in all your ways.

Do not turn to the right or the left;

keep your foot from evil.

Proverbs 4:23-27

For last year's words belong to last year's language

and next year's words await another voice.

And to make an end is to make a beginning.
~ T. S. Eliot

Life in the Rearview Mirror

2011-12-26T08:46:00.001-07:00

There comes a time when you have to choose between turning the page and closing the book.

~ Josh Jameson

Have you ever noticed the little words imprinted on your car's rearview mirrors: "Objects in the mirror are closer than they appear." ? Apparently it's a warning in order that understand the device's peculiarities in order to benefit from its usefulness. It's an aid for navigation; one that can also compensate for the vehicle's blind spot. And don't we all loathe that vacant void that isn't, in reality, so very void at all?!

Interesting wisdom.

I'm not a huge fan of hindsight. I've been told it's 20/20, whereas foresight is much less accurate. Not sure who coined that particular factoid, but it's highly suspect, if you ask me. I would much prefer to choose rightly going forward rather than have to assess what I'd done - rightly or wrongly - by looking back, especially by looking back via a rearview mirror. Not only do things look closer from than perspective, but the blind spots are much more troublesome.

Forwards or backwards, I still don't know what I don't know. I am forced (dare I say, blessed?) to be dependant upon maps & signage; upon a certain degree of trust in road maintenance crews & Highway Patrolmen. Then there are those items that are simply part of the journey and not to be fussed over too intensely.

2011 is swiftly melting away like Frosty on a too-warm day. Already my reflections cause its nearly 365 days to look closer than they are in reality. How do I know that? Because 2011's days are nearly ended when it seems they just began!  Then there's the fact that I'm always 32 years old in my rearview mirror. That may well be due to a blind spot, if not the mirror's "closer than they look" peculiarity.

Hindsight is rarely 20/20, no matter what they (whoever they are) tell us. Oh, I do believe I see things a bit more clearly ... perhaps. Then again, distortion is ever a hazard.   Rearview stuff always means I have to take my eyes off the road which is, in turn, rather dangerous all by itself.

Still, I take stock of all that lays behind so I can navigate more intelligently going forward.   Theoretically I'll then know best when & how to make a turn, or to pass, or hit the brakes. I'll not be inclined to run off the road or take a detour that may well lead me into hazardous realms.

I best remember all the benefits & drawbacks of the rearview mirror's positioning. It's a tool ... nothing more, nothing less. And how I use it will determine which category it falls into.

Interesting wisdom.

Just because it's not what you were expecting,

doesn't mean it's not everything you've been waiting for...

~ Unknown

For Unto Us

2011-12-25T06:46:00.000-07:00

“The people who walk in darkness will see a great light.

Those who live in a dark land,

the light will shine on them.”

(Isaiah 9:2)

The image of light is central,

not only to Christmas, but to Christianity.

Jesus said: “I am the Light of the world;

he who follows Me will not walk in the darkness,

but will have the Light of life.”

(John 8:12)

This is the sum and substance of Christmas.

The people who have walked in darkness have seen a great light.

Those who have lived in a dark land have now experienced

the shining of the Light of life.

~ Dr. R. Albert Mohler, Jr.

In the right light, at the right time,

everything is extraordinary.

~Aaron Rose

Bedford Falls or Pottersville?

2011-12-24T06:27:00.000-07:00

This guest blogger doesn't even know I've designated him so. However, what he crafts here is, as they say: "spot on"!

I don't know this guy, but I like him. Or I should say, I like what he has to say ...

My Take: When Bedford Falls Becomes Pottersville

By Larry Alex Taunton, Special to CNN

My favorite Christmas movie is, unquestionably, Frank Capra’s 1946 feel-good flick "It’s a Wonderful Life." Jimmy Stewart and Donna Reed play George and Mary Bailey, a happy couple living a life of genteel poverty in the small American town of Bedford Falls.

George is a kind and generous man. He is active in his community and in the war effort. Most importantly, George is all that stands between the town’s mean old man, Mr. Potter, and the demise of all that is good in Bedford Falls.

As financial pressures crowd in on poor George, he begins to question his value to the community. So much so, that he wishes he had never been born. To demonstrate to George the folly of his wish, an angel is sent to give him a glimpse of what Bedford Falls would look like if that wish were granted. In Dickensian fashion, the angel takes him from one scene in that small town to another. The difference is stark. Indeed, Bedford Falls isn’t even Bedford Falls anymore, but a place called Pottersville. The town’s main street is a red-light district, crime is rampant, and life there is coarsened.

When George, in desperation, turns to the angel, seeking an explanation for these drastic changes, the angel says, “Why, George, it’s because you were never born!”

According to a recent poll conducted by The Hill, 69% of voters think America is in decline, and 83% say they are worried about the country’s future. And that has generated a lot of finger-pointing: Republicans blame President Obama; Obama blames Republicans; environmentalists blame industrialization; the “Occupy” people blame everybody who isn’t occupying something - most of us agree that there is a problem, but efforts to identify the source of it are incomplete, misguided or downright evil.

The problems of human society are the problems of human nature, wrote "Lord of the Flies" author William Golding. Indeed. This was the discovery of the monastics. Seeking to escape the evil of the world, they found instead a doctrine central to Christianity: that evil is innate to us all. History tells us that a given philosophy, creed or religion will either restrain our darker impulses or exacerbate them, but escape them we cannot. Not in this life, anyway.

So what will save us from ourselves and preserve human dignity and life in the societies we create? Democracy? Socialism? Stitching up the ozone?

These days, there is a lot of talk about religion - Christianity in particular - and its role in public life. Whether it is protesting Nativities, the debate over “In God We Trust” as our country’s motto or the controversy surrounding the public faith of Tim Tebow, a national discussion is taking place on what the present and future role of Christianity in America should be. The consensus among the secular elites seems to be that it is a bit like smoking: It is harmful, but if you must do it, do it in the designated areas only. Richard Dawkins, the Oxford scientist and atheist provocateur, calls Christianity a “mental virus” that should be eradicated.

The professor should be more careful in what he wishes for. Like many others, he grossly underestimates the degree to which his own moral and intellectual sensibilities have been informed by the Judeo-Christian worldview.

"It’s a Wonderful Life" is a fitting metaphor for a nation absent Christian belief. Jesus Christ said that his followers were to be like “salt”; that is, a people whose presence is felt for the good that they do. As a man or woman’s evil nature is gentled and restrained by the grace of God, there is a corresponding outward transformation of society. The data bears this out. According to the research of The Barna Group, Christians are the most charitable segment of the population by a substantial margin. Hence, any society that is liberally sprinkled with them has a greater concern for the poor, sick, orphaned and widowed - “the least of these,” as Jesus called them. (This is precisely what Nietzsche, and Hitler after him, hated about Christianity.)

But Christian influence goes well beyond benevolence: Our laws, art, literature and institutions find meaning in a rich Christian heritage. In his new book "Civilization: The West and the Rest," Harvard historian Niall Ferguson argues that the decline of the West can, in part, be attributed to the decline of a robust Christian presence in Western culture. Ferguson’s point is largely an economic one, but the inference that Christianity has served to strengthen the fabric of life in the West as we have known it is unmistakable. T.S. Eliot made a similar observation: “If Christianity goes, the whole of our culture goes.”

That is just another way of saying that the difference between a nation with meaningful Christian influence and a nation without it is the difference between Bedford Falls and Pottersville.

The opinions expressed in this commentary are solely those of Larry Alex Taunton

SOURCE: CNN's Belief Blog

Merry Christmas

2011-12-17T07:38:00.002-07:00

From my house to yours comes this

heartfel expression of Christmas joy.

May it be a season of silent & holy nights;

of wonders & grace.

May you find riches & treasures

among your loved ones near & far.

May you & yours forge

new memories, new bonds.

May we all love the Lord more

than we did last year, or yesterday.

What a gift each of you has

become to me - - among the very best

of my delights this season.

Merry Christmas

Kathleen

Uncompromised Pruning Process

2011-12-11T06:53:00.003-07:00

Pruning your roses is easy, but it's like so many things in life, you need to do it regularly, every year in fact, to see results.

... some people just shear their roses about half way down and leave it at that. The problem with doing this is that you have not removed old dead wood, or suckers, or cleaned out built up debris, and in time, I think, you compromise the health of your plants and the quality of your flowers.

So skip the short cuts, and prune your roses properly and you'll be rewarded with really gorgeous flowers.

The above text came directly from a gardening website (link below), as did the exact details for carrying out the actual pruning process. I rather believe God Himself penned this piece because He NEVER compromises or takes short cuts - which is to say: "We can be assured of the unrivaled beauty of the blooms to come."

From a barren & seemingly dead sprig of wood grows a sublime flower and - with it - a fragrance equally so.

Source: The Weekend Gardener

The Season's Wisdom

2011-12-09T07:54:00.006-07:00

The most trustworthy statement that we will

ever know is that Christ Jesus came into the world

to save sinners.

That, above all other declarations,

deserves full acceptance.

This is far more than the reason for the season,

it is the only reason for our hope.

“The Word became flesh and dwelt among us,

and we have seen his glory,

glory as of the only Son from the Father,

full of grace and truth,” declared John (John 1:14).

“While we were still sinners, Christ dies for us” (Romans 5:8).

~ Albert Mohler

Christmas. I absolutely relish all things about it, from glitz to glitter; from Balsam to cinnamon. Twinkle lights still captivate me. The sounds of my favorite tunes sweep me away to precious memories new & old. With the season's progress, my mother & father are alive; my own children still small. Laughter decks the halls of my soul. Well worn traditions settle in like a blanket of new fallen snow. Savory delights torment my determination to be disciplined.

It is good to be children sometimes,

and never better than at Christmas when

its mighty Founder was a child Himself.

~ Charles Dickens

I welcome the season's onset, and I mourn when the tinsel is no longer tinseling.

Yet it is here in these quiet morning hours -- with soft light & a bedazzled tree to accompany me -- I am awed anew by the strange way in which God chose to save all who would believe, and me among them.

No hoops.
No religious ceremony or ritual.
No "ten steps to gaining God's attention & favor".
No good works or self-prescribed misery.

Just an invitation to come, just as I am.

“Come to Me, all you who are weary and burdened,

and I will give you rest.

Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me,

for I am gentle and humble in heart,

and you will find rest for your souls.

For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.”

Matthew 11:28-30

Jesus answered,

“I am the Way and the Truth and the Life.

No one comes to the Father except through Me."

John 14:6

Is it any wonder that wise men still seek Him?

At Christmas, all roads lead home.

~ Marjorie Holmes

I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old, familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet
The words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Resolving to Resolve

2011-12-07T07:11:00.000-07:00

It's a powerful little word, resolve. When I hear or read it I immediately think legalese; about how "I hereby & hereunder do, to wit, to resolve ...", as if selling a parcel of land, or turning over an estate to some worthy beneficiary, or issuing a penalty sentence.

In both of its verb states (transitive & intransitive), resolve has facets that vary, like the facets or surfaces of a diamond.  Those facets give it its powerful appointment; and what they have in common is this:  they determine or form a resolution; deliberate & conclude.

Resolve shows up in our English vernacular in the 14th century, where it derives from the Latin word resolvere. That is to say:  to unloose; dissolve.  Thus is has the potential for being powerfully positive, or powerfully negative.  Like any choice we make, what we resolve has far-reaching implications.

But Daniel resolved not to defile himself

with the royal food and wine,

and he asked the chief official for permission

not to defile himself this way.

Daniel 1:8 (NIV)

Other translations render the word "purposed" or "determined". But whatever translation you use, the word is decidedly decided!

If you (religious leaders) do not listen,

and if you do not

resolve to honor my name,”

says the LORD Almighty,

“I will send a curse on you,

and I will curse your blessings.

Yes, I have already cursed them,

because you have not resolved to honor me.

Malachi 2:2

Today I want to resolve to resolve some things. I'm not talking New Year's Resolutions here ... We all know how they typically go anyway (unresolved). I'm also not talking big things, but all the little ways in which I might be compromising. An accumulation of small stuff can become quite a mound.

I'll take Daniel's resolve over the leader's un-resolve any day. Trouble is, the latter is far easier than the former.

Who, then, are those who fear the LORD?
He will instruct them in the

ways they should choose.

They will spend their days in prosperity,
and their descendants will inherit the land.

The LORD confides in those who fear him;
he makes his covenant known to them.

Psalm 25:12-14

Granny Go-Go

2011-12-03T09:15:00.001-07:00

With all of December's customary doings, I've added Nanny-Granny (not "ninny") to mine. For the past week I've been hanging out (code for chauffeur, shopping advisor, chef, fan) with my 15 year old granddaughter while a certain set of parents vacation in Hawaii for ten days (poor dears).

I'll leave here this week to pick up the Nanny Train again with yet another set of grandchildren while certain other parents celebrate their anniversary with a four day, cross country skiing getaway.

In the midst of it all, I drop by home to gather my wits & enjoy a bit of time with hubby. He has opted out of my current adventure. Mostly he's delighted to have the channel tuner all to himself.

Grandchildren are God's way of

compensating us for growing old.

~Mary H. Waldrip

As I made my way to school on Thursday for the fourth trip in one day, the thought occurred to me that I used to do all this stuff all the time, times three - - AND work full time. Little wonder my unusually congenial & amazingly patient personna was anything BUT in those long-ago days. Like trying to master the Rubix Cube, I'm still wondering how I did it? It's pointless.

There are many best parts to all of this, and only a few worst ones. Being out of my routine, not getting my daily dose of 4 miles walking, eating on the fly & sitting for long periods has damaged the bath scale. The worst part? The darn thing is reading about 5 - 8 pounds too high. Ugh!

Anyway, given my residence in reality I'm doing precious little visiting via the virtual. Thus the Blogosphere suffers and, with it, my connection to friends here.

I'll return ... of THAT you can be certain! Hopefully the bath scales will be fixed by then.

Winter's Charm

2011-12-01T07:33:00.003-07:00

The color of springtime is in the flowers,

the color of winter is in the imagination.

~Terri Guillemets

It won't be long and many of you will be hosting pictures & tales of of winterscapes. Some of you are already dreaming of a white Christmas. Likely I won't be joining you. You see, Winter in the Pacific Northwest - at least along the coastal regions - is mostly wet. Our soupy naturescapes find it difficult to compete with Winter-Wonderlands.

Yet from where I perch I am ever reminded of Winter's glories. Forever reigning over the valleys Orting, Sumner, Puyallup & others is the stately, 14,000' Mt. Rainier. Winter has arrived up there. I know. I can see if from my perch.

I thought by now I'd surely be homesick for Arizona's sunny skies and warm climes. Afterall, wet is a condition that often accompanies gray & gloomy. No such thing exists in Arizona. So far, homesickness has not afflicted me; and many a day I find myself enraptured anew by God's unique touches on the water soaked sod beneath Mt. Rainier's gaze and my feet.

Oh well, it's never too foolish to dream of a white Christmas. They're rare here, but not impossible. My mind & heart are spattered with memories of them from my childhood, and from the childhoods of my own children.  Laughter accompanies such thoughts.

So I look to the hills, watch the temperatures, and dream a little dream or two.   Never mind checking signals with our weather prognosticators. They're customarily wrong anyway - -   false prophets of the worst sort.

Should I grow tired of dreaming, I can always don my snow boots and head to the hills, where I can be absolutely certain Winter is living out it's destiny.

Winter came down to our home one night
Quietly pirouetting in on silvery-toed slippers of snow,

And we, we were children once again.
~Bill Morgan, Jr.

In the depth of Winter, I finally learned

that within me lay an invincible Summer.

~ Albert Camus

Our Most Vulnerable

2011-11-29T06:26:00.012-07:00

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.

Why?

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.

For Your Viewing Pleasure?

2011-11-25T08:39:00.009-07:00

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

The Core of Thankfulness

2011-11-21T07:20:00.002-07:00

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

In All Things, Give Thanks

2011-11-20T07:25:00.000-07:00

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

An Appointment With Destiny: Andrew

2011-11-15T16:41:00.006-07:00

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.

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

Coming Through & Going On

2011-11-13T07:42:00.005-07:00

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

Roaring Lessons

2011-11-12T07:24:00.002-07:00

“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

Lest We Forget

2011-11-11T08:17:00.000-07:00

It never hurts to remember ...

THE TEN COMMANDMENTS

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.”

Fear Done Right

2011-11-08T07:24:00.001-07:00

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.

gotquestions.com

William's & Richard's Voyage

2011-11-05T08:37:00.004-07:00

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.

October's Wings

2011-11-01T10:44:00.002-07:00

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

Up Periscope

2011-10-28T07:25:00.004-07:00

Have you ever seen the movie, "Planes, Trains & Automobiles"? If not, it's a hilarious saga of mis-adventures as experienced via these modes of transportation. I'm just sorry they didn't include a submarine.

In a sense, and for many months I have been traveling beneath life's sometimes dark, sometimes azure, sometimes lavishly-laden, sometimes pleasantly warm & sometimes chilling frigid seas. Some have been quietly calm, while others have been tempestuous. A few of them - these seas - have been little more than rolling waves. But mostly the navigating has been with little buffeting. That doesn't mean I'm totally out of commission or unaware. Mostly I've just been navigating via submarine. The sea's conditions have had little effect on my soul. Thankfully, that's most likely due to the device known as a periscope.

As most of you know, it was just last year that I retired from employment. It's a misnomer, that term; because many of us who retire only shift gears - - some into a higher gear, some to a lessor. I can't quite decide which gear is mine yet, but I'm content with it for now. Keeping my periscope in working order seems to be the greater challenge. That, and remembering the safest place at sea is the depths. The closer you get to the surface in order to actually USE the periscope, the more vulnerable you become to whatever is going on there.

Not only is my periscope vitally needful for knowing where to go, but for what to avoid. Navigation devices a good that way: they allow you to arrive at an intended destination safely. You may not be able to see everything, but you can see enough. To name a few: the way forward, the perils on your course, the conditions on the surface, the approaching coastline.

Ultimately you zero in, then surface when ready to port.

Pretty slick, huh?

"Where God guides, He provides.

Where He leads, He feeds."

~ Old missionary saying

The path of the righteous is like the morning sun,
shining ever brighter till the full light of day.

Let your eyes look straight ahead;
   fix your gaze directly before you.
Give careful thought to the paths for your feet
   and be steadfast in all your ways.
Do not turn to the right or the left;
   keep your foot from evil.

Proverbs 4:18, 25-27

Mork's Musings

2011-10-24T16:04:00.003-07:00

I looked & looked & looked. To my complete dismay, I could find no Planet Ork.

But really, isn't the solar system an amazing tutorial? One needn't be a scientist to appreciate its design & symmetry & beauty; or the rather odd mechanisms that keep everything in working order. The mystery of it all is at the heart of a myriad musings from the dawn of time itself.

There's many a resource for gathering basic information about our universe. I found the content from this one quite interesting, and I think you'll see why (the emphasis is mine) ...

The speed at which a planet moves causes it to try to pull away from the sun and there are times during the orbit when the gravitational pull is not equal to the pull at other times. In addition, the other planets exert some gravitational pull on each other.

Astronomers and physicists have also found that the center of the Sun is not the true center of mass that exerts gravitational force. In fact, they theorize, the Sun also orbits slightly around this mass center. The Sun has more mass than the planets, thus it has the stronger pull of gravity. While the planets seem to try to move away from this pull at certain places in their orbits, the Sun always pulls them back. The planets have gravitational pull on the Sun as well, but that force is not strong enough to affect the Sun’s movement.

SOURCE: The Gemini Geek

It's more than a little compelling, if you ask me. The Sun has all the power & the planets, in varying sizes & shapes orbit AROUND IT - not the other way around. Could it be the universe has something relative to share?

To some extent, aren't we like those planets, we humans? Totally dependent on the Sun, we go round & round with little thought to the daily dose of light & warm (unless it's raining) lavished upon us. From time-to-time we try our darndest to pull away, only to be pulled back into orbit once again. Mistakenly, and most likely unintentionally, we behave as if the Sun - - and even the other planets - - orbit AROUND US - the center of our own solar system.

If God would concede me His omnipotence

for 24 hours, you would see how many changes

I would make in the world.

But if He gave me His wisdom too,

I would leave things as they are.

~ J.M.L. Monsabre

Science would appear to endorse the great good sense of planets remaining on their prescribed course, moving at a slow pace, & never forgetting the source of power & light exerted by the SON. Even the moon seems to understand its primary ministry is that of a reflector.

Now there's a thought: The Ministry of Reflection. Kinda catchy ...

I believe in Christianity as I believe

that the Sun has risen,

not only because I see it,

but because by it

I see everything else.

~ C.S. Lewis

Problematic Phlegmatic

2011-10-23T07:02:00.000-07:00

Ugh! I don't like that word, phlegmatic. I much prefer sanguine. The former sounds all too much like a bad throat condition; while the other sounds like a classical music buff. I like classical music.

But phlegmatic it is.

Who thinks this stuff up, anyway? I mean, really: four ... 4 ... quattro ... temperaments? Is that all there is? Well, not exactly.

Actually, it all began with Hippocrates before 370 B.C., this business of identifying personality traits. It was later seized upon by Galen in 150 A.D. (or so); but it really came into it's own with Avicenna sometime around 1,000 A.D. when it was expanded to include emotions, mental capacity, moral attitudes, self awareness, movements, and even interests (dreams, or passions). It's changed little over the centuries, and today continues to be an aid in identifying the strengths & weaknesses of a particular style, or temperament type. Businesses & churches (my church) uses the grid as one means, or tool in identifying a person's best job or ministry fit.

In the short version, these styles fall into one of four categories. Typically we all have one or two dominant types. And before we all stand up and cheer for the upside, there's a downside. For every strength, there's a weakness (or potential for it).

Who is it that said we must "celebrate diversity"? No doubt THEY were phlegmatic ...

Remember, most of us are blends, but one style is predominant. Do you see yourself anywhere here?

Phlegmatic (or Steadiness)

Phlegmatics tend to be self-content and kind. They can be very accepting and affectionate. They may be very receptive and shy and often prefer stability to uncertainty and change. They are very consistent, relaxed, calm, rational, curious, and observant, making them good administrators. They can also be very passive-aggressive.

Sanguine (or Influencing)

The Sanguine temperament personality is fairly extroverted. People of a sanguine temperament tend to enjoy social gatherings, making new friends and tend to be boisterous. They are usually quite creative and often daydream. However, some alone time is crucial for those of this temperament. Sanguine can also mean very sensitive, compassionate and thoughtful. Sanguine personalities generally struggle with following tasks all the way through, are chronically late, and tend to be forgetful and sometimes a little sarcastic. Often, when pursuing a new hobby, interest is lost quickly when it ceases to be engaging or fun. They are very much people persons. They are talkative and not shy. People of sanguine temperament can often be emotional.

Choleric (or Dominant)

A person who is choleric is a do-er. They have a lot of ambition, energy & passion, and try to instill it in others. They can dominate people of other temperaments, especially phlegmatic types. Many great charismatic military and political figures were choleric. They like to be leaders and in charge of everything.

Melancholic (or Conscientious)

A person who is a thoughtful ponderer has a melancholic disposition. Often very considerate and get rather worried when they could not be on time for events, melancholics can be highly creative in activities such as poetry & art - and can become preoccupied with the tragedy & cruelty in the world. They can be perfectionist, and are often self-reliant and independent. One one negative part of being a melancholic is sometimes they can get so involved in what they are doing they forget to think of others.

For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
I praise you because

I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.

Psalm 139:13-14

From the Shire

2011-10-16T06:40:00.006-07:00

With persistence & stealth I have swung from branch to branch on the family tree that is my own. Thanks to well-preserved records & historical documents down through the ages, I have been beneficiary of the equal persistence & stealth of others seeking to add foliage to our combined genealogies. My discoveries thus far have left me mesmerized, amazed, humbled, starry-eyed and even more curious than ever before.

Today I want to share some fairly amazing limbs and the greenery that adorns them.

Long ago & far away - in the year 1535 A.D., in the land of Nottinghamshire (yes, THAT Nottingham of Robin Hood/Sherwood Forest) England - William Brewster was born. His ancestry is well documented, dating even further back another seven generations to the year 1299 A.D, and to the birth of Sir John Brewster I - my own distant relative.

(Photo: Sherwood Forest)

I cannot imagine, and yet imagine I must, what that William Brewster was all about. Named after his father & grandfather, he met & married Mary Smythe, and together they bore at least eight (8) children: Millicent, Benjamin, James, John, William, Edward, Prudence & Amy. Separatists, their first & foremost love & loyalty rested upon the Lord and His word.

Millicent is my great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandmother. Down through those ten generations, her kin married the kin of the Eames, and they the kin of the Fords. Ultimately a Ford married a Grinnell, and seven generations hence my mother - Helen Evelyn Grinnell - would be born.

William (another in the long line of "Williams") is the brother of Millicent & my 10th-great uncle. He is none other than THE William Brewster of the Mayflower - - Chaplin aboard that vessel, and one of the signatories of the Mayflower Compact. Much is written by and about him, for his godly influence & impact have forever left their mark on this great nation, if not the establishment of the colonies & church in the days of our earliest settlement.

I realize we do not inherit faith, but today my curiosity has me wondering if anywhere along the way one of these prayed, as I do now, that they'd "leave a trail that honors my God and Lord; a trail I'd be proud to have anyone follow, but especially these beloved grandchildren."

This is my own heart's desire. Could it have been theirs?

A Stumbling Block or a Stepping Stone

Isn't it strange that Princes and Kings
And clowns who caper in stardust rings,
And common people like you and me
Are builders for eternity?

Each is given a set of tools,
A shapeless mass, and a book of rules,
And each must make, ere life has flown,
A stumbling block or a stepping stone.

~ Author Unknown

To Run or Not to Run?

2011-10-10T11:17:00.005-07:00

Somewhere in between toweling off from my shower & brushing my teeth, I heard a story on the radio that got me to thinking. It kept me thinking long afterwards.

The details of the story aren't particularly important other than to flesh out the principle involved. In this case, the principle is connected to a track competition.

As this particular track race progressed, someone from one team ran so close to someone from the other team that the cleats on their running shoes actually pierced the ankle of the other runner, who immediately dropped to the ground & began screaming in pain.   The perp (I wonder how many times I've been that perp myself?) ran on, quite likely too focused on the finish line to give much thought to the scene in her rear view mirror. Racers from both teams followed suit & ran past the injured runner, ignoring the moaning form in their way.

If there's a race to be run, surely winning it is far more important than anything else that might happen in the process. Surely?

Along comes Samaritan Runner, a lady from the competitive team who simply could not leave her opponent alone & suffering.  She stopped, helped the wounded runner to her feet, and then delivered her to the Medical Tent before returning to the race, and onto the finish line - - not to win, but to finish what was before her.

Isn't that the point: To run the race set before us; not to win, but to finish?

Success is getting what you want;

happiness is wanting what you get.

~Dale Carnegie

Try not to become a man of success,

but rather try to become a man of value.

~Albert Einstein

For Women Only (& Update)

2011-10-07T08:00:00.002-07:00

Sometimes I tear through the scriptures, appropriating nearly every verse for myself - - every verse, that is, except the ones that speak directly to women, to me. Sometimes I don't like them very much so I conveniently look the other way when they disrupt one of my appropriations.

Wives, in the same way submit yourselves

to your own husbands so that, if any of them

do not believe the word, they may be won over

without words by the behavior of their wives,

when they see the purity and reverence of your lives.

Your beauty should not come from outward adornment ...

Rather, it should be that of your inner self,

the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit,

which is of great worth in God’s sight

(the NKJV renders this: which is very precious

in the sight of God)

1 Peter 3:1-5

It's that gentle & quiet stuff that's hard to come by!

And who can ignore the Proverbs 31 (10-12) woman?

A wife of noble character who can find?
She is worth far more than rubies.
Her husband has full confidence in her (the NKJV

renders this "The heart of her husband safely trusts her")

and lacks nothing of value.
She brings him good, not harm,
all the days of her life.

This collection goes on to tell of her industry & productivity; her intentionality & resourcefulness; her kindness & generosity; her wisdom & well-guarded tongue. This woman is not born; she's made. And she's not self-made, but God-crafted. How do we know? Because she's humble, above all. She's not seeking recognition or reward; nor is she laboring under the "woe is me"s. She's not a victim, but a victor (or victoress).

There are many more such verses for we ladies, but this set will suffice for the challenge of my heart today. Much has been said of submission: what it is; what it's not. I could certainly get high-centered there, but that's not my heart's focus. Today it ponders the gentleness, quietness & trustworthiness to be found within it, and in what measure - if it's to be found at all.

Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters,

whenever you face trials of many kinds,

because you know that the testing of your faith

produces perseverance.

Let perseverance finish its work so that you

may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.

If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God,

who gives generously to all without finding fault,

and it will be given to you.

James 1:2-5

The weapons with which the ill dispositions of the world

are to be combated are moderation, gentleness,

a little indulgence of others,

and a great distrust of ourselves.

~ Edmund Burke

EPILOGUE: After penning & posting this, I went out for my early morning walk accompanied by my IPOD. Today it was in the rain, and by the time I returned I wasn't sure if it was rain's work or God's that left tears in my eyes. This is why ...

Fertile or Fallow?

2011-10-03T18:22:00.000-07:00

Both my mother & father grew up amidst agrarian communities. Their love of farming values & practices never waned, though both would abandon their roots in favor of a modern existence beyond the reach of plows & silos. They learned to use their cultivation skills in a whole new way.

As I considered the disciplines associated with cultivation, I paid a visit to Merriam to see what more I could learn. No surprise to learn that it means, in essence, to render something civilized, refined, couth; and 1: to prepare for the raising of crops; also: to loosen or break up the soil, or 2: to foster the growth of

What flabbergasted me was what I learned about the opposite of cultivating. It means: barbarianism, barbarism, philistinism REALLY!! Do you see that? Something that isn't cultivated is barbaric, or like the PHILISTINES! Where'd we hear that word before?

Here's what I know: There are a great many things that must be left up to God. But it's up to me to cultivate a good deal on my own, like routine times of quietude & prayer, Bible study, forgiveness, fellowship, and obeying the leading of His Spirit ~ to name a few.

To NOT cultivate is to leave the ground of my heart fallow; which is to say it is dormant, idle, inert. Whether I like it or not, to forfeit cultivation is to meander on over to the camp of the Philistines.

Who knew how agrarian is life in the spirit?!!

Sow righteousness for yourselves,
reap the fruit of unfailing love,
and break up your unplowed ground;
for it is time to seek the LORD,
until He comes
and showers His righteousness on you.

~ Hosea 10:12

The Benefit of the Doubt

2011-09-28T16:19:00.001-07:00

It's a phrase we don't hear much these days, but it's certainly a concession that packs a beautiful, powerful & humble whallop.

What does it mean to confer such a doubt-filled benefit upon someone? Upon one's self?

First of all, it's a noun - concrete & exact, like an apple or the ocean. More than a phrase, it's a state of mind or - rather - of heart. It's a judgement, and it's exact meaning goes something like this: a favorable opinion or judgment adopted despite uncertainty.

It has the power to dash gossip & unhinge juries. It makes way for mercy & fresh starts. It confounds the certain, and it certifies the counfounded.

When was the last time you felt free to grant someone, or yourself this reprieve; the benefit of the doubt?

I have always found that mercy

bears richer fruits than strict justice.

~Abraham Lincoln

The glory of Christianity is to

conquer by forgiveness.

~William Blake

A Pumpkin in a Pear Tree

2011-09-18T06:51:00.003-07:00

God writes the gospel not in the Bible alone,

but on trees and flowers and clouds and stars.

~Author unknown, commonly attributed

to Martin Luther

Yesterday's early morning walk allowed me to consider again how very unapologetic is nature when it comes to it's duty.

Never do I hear the Fir tree crumbling that it isn't a Rhododendron; nor do I witness the grass sparring with the rocks over which is more needful. Even the rain seems satisfied with it's lot - inspite of, or because of, or perhaps ignorant of man's indignity towards it. The sun never shrinks from the power granted it; and the winds follow their designated courses though no map is given them.

Forests welcome precipitation in all its forms.
Deserts giggle at drought.
Oceans swell & heave in powerful displays.
Mountains open wide their arms to receive ice & snow.
Rivers race to the sea to demonstrate their abundance.
Creatures exercise their instinctive rights without apology.
Starry skies make bold proclamations though no one hear.

In these, and so many other ways all of creation obeys their covenants - often in spite of that which would impede it from doing so. And, when some element seems oddly uncharacteristic, a further examination often reveals an anomaly. What is seen is not always what it appears to be. Obedience is, afterall, creation's watchword.

Indeed, His Gospel is forever on display.

For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities—

His eternal power and divine nature—

have been clearly seen, being understood

from what has been made,

so that people are without excuse.

Romans 1:20

A Pumpkin in a Pear Tree

I love to think of nature as an unlimited

broadcasting station, through which God

speaks to us every hour, if we will only tune in.

~George Washington Carver

Photo: A nearby garden vine climbed the tree, giving the now-green pumpkin the appearance of having sprouted from one the pear tree's branches. Copyright 2011 The Associated Press. All rights reserved.

An Audition to Remember

2011-09-15T13:28:00.003-07:00

I have attempted to economize posts; doing so once or twice a week. So I apologize straight-away about this new one coming so close to others. It wouldn't be delayed, and I think you'll see why. This is more than entertainment. More than mere news. It is a rare testimony given primarily in facial features.

Come sit with me awhile and consider the many dangers, toils and snares that this young man & his brother have experienced thus far. Today, anyway, I doubt you'll have a care in the world.

Have Kleenex at the ready, and don't be surprised if you find yourself on your knees ...

GOD BLESS EMMANUEL KELLY, HIS BROTHER, AND THE AMAZING WOMAN WHO CHOSE TO BE THEIR MOTHER!

Semper Fi

2011-09-14T20:50:00.001-07:00

In the days following September 11, our children spent a good deal of time on the phone with us. At the time we were living in Arizona, while two of them were here in Washington State and one in San Diego. Like most of us, they were bereaved & baffled, and seemed to take comfort in chatting with the folks. It was of comfort to us, too. There is nothing quite like the bonds of family during a time of crisis or chaos.

Our oldest son, Brad, was in the Marines on active duty at the time. He had been advised he'd be deployed, but he didn't know where, or even what it would entail. It was top secret. Even so, he had to pack and prepare, as did his wife and two children; he for his mysterious destination; they for a period without him.

Within weeks he was gone, and none of us had a clue where he was for some time. Iraq? Pakistan?

In time we learned he was stationed on the inglorious island of Guam - a speck on the map that is little more than a large rock in the Philippine Sea. There, he and his fellow Marines were commissioned to guard our Southern Pacific shores from who-knew-what; and there he remained for well over a year.

I'm not sure why I'm sharing this other than to say it has been among the many vivid recollections I've had in these days following the 10th anniversary of the horror played out on 9 / 11. Our son is no more noble than all the others that ramped up to heal this nation then, or now; but he certainly is representative, as is his wife & children. Sacrifice has new meaning in these contexts; so does duty.

Hardly a day passes that I don't consider the subject of service in general, and of duty in particular. Both are the unique privilege of servants. No wonder Jesus linked ministry with duty; living with giving:

“You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them,

and their high officials exercise authority over them.

Not so with you. Instead, whoever wants to become great

among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first

must be your slave— just as the Son of Man did not come

to be served, but to serve,

and to give his life as a ransom for many.”

Matthew 20:26-28

Semper Fi - Shortened by the Marines

(Latin for "Always Faithful")

I love you Brad & Megan!
Mom

Stitches & Hems

2011-09-12T07:29:00.002-07:00

…and begged Him that they might only touch
the hem of His garment.

And as many as touched it
were made perfectly well.

Matthew 14:36

These verses support the earlier theory concerning the Old Testament account of David and Saul, i.e. that the hem or edge of a garment stood for the wearer's authority. The woman believed that if she could only touch the hem of Jesus' garment, she would experience the power of His person and authority. Her act was not a matter of superstition, but a silent cry for Jesus to grant her His personal attention and healing power.

I don't know about you, but sewing machines are akin to spaceships to me - - fascinating to consider, but impossible to personally employ. My first real foray into their use was when my children were small, some 35-40 years ago.  I attempted to make this or that for them; stuff they couldn't possibly wear by the time I'd completed it. Alas, when I eventually cut two left sides to a dress for myself, I rid myself of the tedious tool in favor of all things store-bot.

Today I am ever-so-grateful that I need not sew for myself the sort of garments required of God's people in the early days. Yet I have often considered why, exactly, people would want to touch the hem of someone's garment as those in Jesus' day did. Why not reach for His hand, or throw yourself in front of His path? Why not reach for His pocket, or His cuff? Why the hem?

To get an answer to this query (and so many others), I dig back into His teachings & requirements as found in the Old Testament.

The tallit & it's fringes, the tzitzit, help me to better understand my own query.  These items were part & parcel of the authority of God and His people. They were to remind each Jewish man of his responsibility to fulfill God's commandments.

In fact, the tzitzit are tied into 613 knots to constantly remind them of the 613 laws of Moses, of which there are 365 prohibitions (The "thou shalt not" laws), and 248 affirmations (the "thou shall" laws). The knots also correspond with the ineffable name of God, the unspoken yod-hey-vav-hey, Yahweh.

In and of themselves the tzitzit held no power. Their importance didn't lie in the material, the design, the color, or even their placement on the garment, but in their representative power. Imagine the Logo emblazoned on a Letterman's Jacket, or we Christians wearing a Bible around our necks. The symbol is associative.

Digging further, we learn that nearly all cultures had their own tzitzit. But God employed what was common in that day to remind His people of His authority & commandments, and their responsibility (and privilege) to obey it.

It is why David cut off the comer of Saul's robe, symbolically demonstrating that the king's authority would be cut off. It is why we see some of the women of Jesus' day reaching for His hem, having recognized His authority & power.

I'm so grateful I don't have to make for myself a tallit with tzitzit (couldn't they have come up with better names?).   I dare say I'd still be at it, with no hope of ever getting it right.

Today I am free to go sewing-machineless, boldly & directly to the Power Source, to the very Throne Room of God.

Let us then approach God’s throne of grace
with confidence, so that we may receive mercy
and find grace to help us in our time of need.

Hebrews 4:16

SOURCES: Jews for Jesus; The Refiner's Fire

From Sea to Shining Sea

2011-09-09T07:24:00.002-07:00

This week, Cap'n Hubby and I spent several days navigating the waters between the Puget Sound and those of the Washington State's Uppermost San Juan Islands. Locals are well-acquainted with the legendary beauty of these seas, especially when fair weather makes for a Mariner's Delight. Such was our experience.

Just a few scenes & scenarios to share with you ...

Packed & ready to go!

The First (and Only) Mate

awaits Cap'n Hubby's dockside pick up.

The Marina drops the "Irish Wake" into the water.

Our first day's journey took us from Tacoma up through the waters
of the Puget Sound, passed Seattle & onwards to
Port Townsend across rough seas (aka white caps
& rollers that freaked me out).

Safely into port, Cap'n Hubby settles us in.

Nothing like a bit of Chinese Food for hungry mariners.

Before heading into the San Juan Islands,

we detoured via Whidbey Island

for a nostalgia trip. First stop: Admiral's Cove,

where hubby's now-deceased parents once resided.

Whidbey's second stop was hubby's parents first/primary home,

where our children grew up around their dining table, tide-pool

laden beach, stormy/windy breakfront & panoramic views of the

the shipping lanes & freighter traffic.

We roosted long & overnight here in Friday Harbor.

What a busy, touring-rich target it turned out to be!

Here we are pointed decidedly towards Sinclair Island (with

incredibly rough seas impeding us), and with Mt. Baker beckoning

us onward.

As a point of reference, Sinclair Island was - for many years - the summer home for Hope & Max, hubby's father & mother. It was also a vacation destination for we and our younguns, where many a summer was spent combing the beaches, picking wild blackberries & making berry cobblers, reading vast numbers of books, sleeping deeply & long in the cool/salt-scented air, and making so many memories none of us has yet been able to capture them all! Hope and Max are long-departed now, but not the footprints & seaprints they left us.

This is the Post Office on Sinclair Island;

an island inaccessible by any means other than private boat

or chartered bush plane (that landed on a cow pasture; and our

children's favorite way in). The Post Office dock was a favorite

destination of our daughter Molly's - perhaps

because it captured her imagination, or because it was

just so darned cute - or both.

Here we have the "cabin"; now missing the

tree swing out front, as well as the infamous windowed

outhouse. The new owners have also put new steps &

siding on it, but nothing can mar the fingerprints left

on the windows left by OUR children!

As we eventually made our way South, and home again,

we enjoyed our route via Deception Pass as we headed

down the backside of Whidbey Island.

In silence we navigated, enjoying the

brisk but sunny salt air, the occasional

visit of sea lions, seal & dolphins,

and the memories that flooded & nearly

swamped us - - a welcome, though

unexpected by-product of our sea journey.

We went out expecting a sea adventure, and

returned with a boatload of nostalgia.

Thong-Wielding Warrioress

2011-09-04T08:06:00.004-07:00

Lining both sides of the east/west boundaries of McKinley Park - the haven of delights across the street from my childhood home - were Cedar trees. Lush & pungent, by the time I met them they were gnarled & sinewy & stunted - - no doubt the result of the clamoring of children. Long before I nestled myself in their boughs, others had done so. They were surely the castles & kingdoms of many a childhood fantasy; and surely they were mine.

(The pool at McKinley Park, with my childhood

home as a backdrop)

I learned a good many things in that park. It was there in the 3 foot depths of the pool I learned to swim, and to play (most of the time, well) with others. I built many a mountain & moat in the sandbox. I grew agile & fearless at the heights of the Monkey Bars. I learned to steer clear of clover with bare feet lest risking a bee sting. It is where I encountered, and dispatched my first bullies.

Bobby & Tommy Yerbery were neighbors. Their father was a policeman; and their house boasted a collection of scrapping boys. My father was an industrious house-painter; and my house boasted a collection of frilly girls. They delighted in tormenting me ... though now, with the benefit of 20/20 hindsight, their torments were largely of the pigtail-pulling type.

But one day all that changed.

Having had enough of their intimidation, I removed my thong (hopefully you remember when THAT meant a rubber sandal, or a flip/flop?), and took out after the bigger of the two, Tommy. I figured if I bested him, the other would think twice. Once my lanky legs caught up with him, I beat him within an inch of his scrappy life with that thong advising him that he'd best cease & desist or risk another such lashing.

They became two of my best friends, not to mention allies.

It's good to know how to wield a Thong, though I've found better means of resolving conflict now (I think).

Disclaimers, Footnotes & Apologetics

2011-09-02T07:52:00.007-07:00

Hardly a morning passes that I don't spend time quietly reading scriptures and listening for God's whispers. That's not a boast, but a confession. You see, when I don't start my day that way, I often find myself shipwrecked by 9am (if not sooner).

A by-product of my morning musings is the frequent brainstorm (the source of my blog posts). Of such a thing, Merriam informs us about it's meaning:

a violent transient fit of insanity, or

a: a sudden bright idea b: a harebrained idea

That said, I guess I'll have to let you decide which of my posts fall into which category.

But let me further confess a couple of additional items.

I'd like to think everything I post falls into the suddenly-bright-idea type - - inspired, inspiring and encouraging. That wish might well fall into the transient fit bucket, but I can hope ...

I would also purpose to not to be verbose, or come off with great swelling words. Surely that would & should be categorized as harebrained. Besides, if I want you to visit and to read what new brainstorm I've crafted, I know I have to keep it something short of Dr. Zhivago-est in length or risk a "sorry, I've gotta dash" outcome. But that's not to say there won't be a bit of sass interwoven. Afterall, a Sassy Granny MUST employ a wee bit of such :)

In all ways, my desire is to carve (sometimes bushwhack) a trail here; a trail I'd be proud to have my children & grandchildren follow (the very mission I declare in my Profile). I dare say, that trail may have thickets & thorns at times, but they are never meant to impale or impugn or impede ... not me, not them, and definitely not you.

Jackassology

2011-08-31T07:55:00.002-07:00

Isn't it amazing what we can learn from the world of animals; or nature in general, for that matter?

As I meandered through the Book of Jude recently, I was struck by these three things:

The Error of Balaam
The Way of Cain
The Rebellion of Korah

They are representative of much of what ails the church today - - your church and mine ... regardless of denominational underpinnings.   We been told to expect them, as they go hand-in-hand with the insidious stuff (aka apostasy) that worms it's way into the Body.   Given a recognizable identity, they'd be goats, or weeds, or even lions that snarl & snap & rip apart. Mostly they look like true believers right up UNTIL the matter of God's word - His whole counsel - is concerned.

Mind you, these are not atheists and agnostics we're advised to be alert to. They're not your neighbor who's never graced a church, or your Uncle Mortimer who's got legitimate questions about the claims of Christianity. These are those numbered among us - - true believers (or supposed true believers).

Not only does Jude (verses 3-16) caution us about these, but so does Peter, and even John in the Book of Revelation. We are told how to spot them; and to beware of the harm (can anyone say chaos & confusion?) they cause.  It would seem prudent, then, to have a better understanding of their character, or lack thereof.

So I've been on a mission, and I must say, it's been a rather enlightening one!

I wonder ... do we recognize any/all of them?

Balaam's error boils down to obedience to God, but... It’s saying, “Yes Lord, I’ll obey You, but ______(fill in the blank)".  A true prophet, Balaam was overcome with worldliness. Thus he got his assignment so very wrong and, in essence, said what God told him to say, but didn't do what God told him to do.  What a shining example of doing our best to satisfy God while simultaneously profiting personally and/or pleasing men.

Even Balaam's jackass knew better than his master!

As for the way of Cain, he consciously chose a way different than the one God had shown him. Although he knew what was right, he hadn’t done it.  He shows us exactly how to justify just about anything, and why one's own interpretation can trump the word of God.

The jackass probably would have layed down beneath Cain too!

When it comes to Korah's rebellion, I get hiccups. I mean, who in their right mind would delight in being swallowed up by the earth?!  Here we see witness pride & ambition colliding with God's authority. It is in stark contrast to the humble heart that would seek to know & obey God's word & ways about man's. We have no difficulty seeing how these might craft all sorts of aberrant or unsound doctrines in opposition to that which is sound.

Balaam ... Cain ... Korah ... These all ASSumed they knew best.  The jackass appears to be the only thing unscathed, except - that is - for the beating he took for resisting Balaam's perverse diversion from God's expressed plan.

Evacuation Wisdom

2011-08-26T07:46:00.002-07:00

For a brief span of roughly 18 months, hubby and I lived in Southern California near Mt. Baldy. I'd heard of Santa Ana winds prior to moving there, but until we actually lived in their path I hadn't a clue about their tremendous power - - power multiplied when accompanied by fire. Such was our experience that first Fall.

All around & above us the wind & fires raged for several weeks before they were finally quenched. But while they were consuming everything in their path, we lived on that path of peril - - ever vigilant & watchful, and ever at-the-ready to evacuate. Ash-laden, smoke-scented air was a ready reminder not to get too complacent.

As I watch news of Hurricane Irene's merciless intentions, and listen to the many who are cautioning, warning, and even advising people to flee, I think back to those days in California. I think of the days just prior to Mt. St. Helen's eruption, too. There were, and are plenty of notices about what to do to be safe when a natural disaster is expected and/or to prepare for an evacuation when advance warnings are available. Often they provide evacuation routing to further ensure the safety of the evacuees. Even so ... and still ... people refuse to heed. Like old Harry Truman at Spirit Lake, they shake their first & roll the dice in the face of extreme danger.

I know you know where I'm going with this... It's an object-lesson from nature about the amazing, grace-laden evacuation plan & route God has provided to all mankind. He uses the loudest of bull horns to get our attention - the Gospel: the power of God for saving men (Romans 1:16-17) - whereby He offers the only sure means of escape. Many seize the warning and find their way to safety. Others insist they're just fine & have no need to act. Some, like Harry Truman, see great humor in the silliness of such a warning & plan.

While I pray for my many & dear friends on the U.S. Eastern seaboard, I also pray for those who insist upon making their home upon the path of peril. It's not about hellfire & damnation, nor is it about wringing worried hands. It's about intentionally making one's way to safety, knowing with certainty that we are forever out of harm's way.

Thomas said to him,

“Lord, we don’t know where you are going,

so how can we know the way?”

Jesus answered, “I am the Way and the Truth and the Life.

No one comes to the Father except through me.

John 14:5-6

Love does no harm to a neighbor.

Therefore love is the fulfillment of the Law.

And do this, understanding the present time:

The hour has already come for you to wake up

from your slumber, because our salvation is

nearer now than when we first believed.

The night is nearly over; the day is almost here.

So let us put aside the deeds of darkness and

put on the armor of light.

Romans 13:10-12

As God’s co-workers we urge you not to receive
God’s grace in vain. For He says,

“In the time of my favor I heard you,
and in the day of salvation I helped you."

I tell you, now is the time of God’s favor,
now is the day of salvation.

2 Corinthians 6:1-2, Isaiah 49:8

Moss Covered Musing

2011-08-21T05:29:00.001-07:00

Through many dangers, toils and snares
I have already come;
'Tis Grace that brought me safe thus far
and Grace will lead me home.

I do declare, these virtual meanderings are ever so exciting! In recent weeks I've traveled thousands of miles over a backward span of nearly 2,000 years. My eyes are bleary, but my feet are happy to continue the journey.

As I mentioned in my post some weeks ago, I've been AWOL as I pursue material (biographical, historical and ancestral). I have high hopes that it will provide the sinew for a book that's been long in the writing.

My journey has taken me along many & varied branches of my family tree. On my mother's side we are predominantly French and Irish (through the clans Grenelle & O'Neal). Her kin takes me farthest back thus far; and that to 800s Norway (how cool is that, Debbie & Sonja?).

Robert I Rollo - Viking Rolf Ragnvaldsson (850 - 925)

On my father's side the Scots-Irish feature heavily through the Wells/Kelly and McFadden lineage. It is my grandmother Sarah Kelly that provides the richest fare. I've managed to trace her (and my) heritage back through Scotland & Ireland, linking our branches to several kings and knights (and castles that stand still, or in ruins); and to the renowned Robert the Bruce.

On various Mayflower records I've discovered no few relations. Several were signatory on the actual Mayflower Compact!

I must tell you that I'm amazed and grateful for the resources made available to me by way of Ancestry.com. Their database includes census, vital statistics, immigration and other records from every imaginable war or affiliation, and so much more! Thanks in large part to the convergence of LDS records (the Mormons are big on ancestry), the pool of information available to time-travelers like me is immense.

For now I'll keep at it, which means the blogosphere will remain of secondary focus. For now.

I think of you often, and pray especially for those of you I know are living in life-chapters new (Terri, Peggy), or difficult (Rosel, Tammy), or challenging - - or all of the above (Elaine). Sometimes a grin forms when another of you drop into my thoughts: Judy, Beth, Lisa, Sonja, Debbie, Janette, Noreen, Susan, Sharon, Luther, Karen, Loren, Ron, Mary ... Well, I could just go on and on!

One stanza from the song Amazing Grace has run through my thoughts so often on this journey. It's the preface to this post, and the postscript. When I consider all that was wrought by God's hand to deliver me (and you) to this very day, it's simply mind-boggling. Down through the ages He had (has) a plan for me, and He saw to it I arrived on time, and for a time such as this. Today I'm part of it - His plan. And so are you. Let us run together this amazing race - for our joy and His glory!

Through many dangers, toils and snares
I have already come;
'Tis Grace that brought me safe thus far
and Grace will lead me home.

Upon the Moors

2011-08-06T09:29:00.014-07:00

I'm planning on going AWOL. And here's why ...

Chilham Castle

Begun in 1174 for Henry II, it

was completed in 1616 for my

ancestor, Sir Dudley Diggs,

son of

Sir (Knight) Thomas Kempis

The Ruins of Castle Cary

Built sometime in early 1100 by

my ancestors, the Percevals

For several years I've been building my family tree.

As I trace my lineage through the web of branches on both sides (Wells on my dad's side; Grinnell on my mother's), I am absolutely thunderstruck to have made my way back as far as the 800s. Stunning! And I'm not done threading yet ...

My discoveries have taken me to the Moors of England & Ireland & Scotland, as well as to the fertile & verdant valleys of France's Argonne region where, most likely, Jewish ancestry was handed down as well (having been exiled with the Sephardic Jews of Spain). Some small consortium of my DNA derives from the forests & farmlands of Germany.

All-in-all, I'm predominantly a Celt, but no commoner. The ancestors I've met along these various branches (and on both sides of my parentage) include lords & ladies, sirs/knights. As expected, this includes a fair number of castles (two of many shown above) & kingdoms.

Which brings me back to where I began. My AWOLism is born of my heartfelt yearning to visit those ancient lands & peoples that are, even today, near & dear. With the advent of the internet, as well as sites like Ancestry.com, what was once thought lost is found. I long to know these people & their times; to look long at their family crests and the coats of arms they bore proudly. I will attempt to look on their faces in search of the resemblance that is mine both physically & spiritually. Much of what I see is now readily available. The rest I'll have to imagine.

So, if you wonder about my whereabouts, just picture me walking the misted moors with Lady Amy Anne or Sir/Knight Thomas Moyle. We've much to speak of ...

Now faith is confidence in what we hope for

and assurance about what we do not see.

This is what the ancients were commended for...

Therefore, since we are surrounded by

such a great cloud of witnesses,

let us throw off everything that hinders

and the sin that so easily entangles.

And let us run with perseverance the race

marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus,

the pioneer and perfecter of faith.

~ Hebrews 11:1, 12:1-2

P.S. I'm not actually going to Ireland & Scotland. That's something I'd planned to do this Fall, but have postponed until next year. But, I am going to spend a considerable amount of time in research, and less on social networks. I'll be back. In the meantime, you can always reach me at my direct email address. I'm hoping to drop by to see what you're up to when I return from my heathered wanderings of the heart ...

Gripping Grace

2011-08-02T07:34:00.001-07:00

Such a vivid image is conjured up with the term grip, or gripping. It's a word we readily identify as we read through a suspenseful book, or we bite our lips over a particularly dramatic movie (can anyone say "Raiders of the Lost Ark"?), or as we yank our jacket - or worse, our hand - from the now-shut car door. It's far more cunning if we're attempting to give up smoking (how well I remember!), or any other bad habit.

The scripture weaves a powerful thread throughout it's many pages about grip's power. Depending on context, it's either a good thing, or a not-so-good thing.

In the opening salvo of Luke's Gospel, we are gripped right along with the man-Priest Zechariah: Then an angel of the Lord appeared to him (Zechariah), standing at the right side of the altar of incense. When Zechariah saw him, he was startled and was gripped with fear. (vs 11-12). I mean, who wouldn't be should Mr. Angel creature show up for a tete a tete?

Yep. Gripping is most often married to startling, and it quite often entails shock & awe.

Most of the time we wriggle free of that which grips us. The book ends; the movie too. We pull ourselves free of the car door. But, according to the scriptures, there are two grips against which we have no pulling power. Their hold is firm - unrelenting, unending, and un-releasing.

The one is sin.

The other is God's saving grace.

Before the coming of this faith,

we were held in custody under the law,

locked up until the faith

that was to come would be revealed.

So the law was our guardian until

Christ came that we might be justified by faith.

Now that this faith has come,

we are no longer under a guardian.

~ Galatians 3:23-26

I've not read it, but Max Lucado has even penned a book about the tenacity of grace's grip. I love it's tagline:

Your Father Always Caught You. He Still Does.

Some things seek to grip me still (thank goodness, NOT smoking). But nothing can equal this oft-misunderstood & maligned commodity called grace.

From the Law's grip to the Lord's. Now that's gripping!

For sin shall no longer be your master,

because you are not under the law,

but under grace.

~ Romans 6:14

Jesus prayed ... "Father, the hour has come.

Glorify your Son, that your Son may glorify you.

For you granted him authority over all people

that he might give eternal life

to all those you have given him.

Now this is eternal life: that they know you,

the only true God, and Jesus Christ,

whom you have sent.

~ John 17:1-3

Hair-Drenching Memories Made at Mineral

2011-07-29T06:39:00.010-07:00

Anyone that knows we Flanagans, knows we love all things outdoors. Our sons & daughter have inherited this bent, and most weeks you can find one or all of us connecting to some sort of outdoor adventure. It's one of the primary reasons we returned to WA State. And, as of yesterday, Terry and I set an all-time record for adventure quotients!

Known as the "Gem of the Northwest", Mineral Lake is about as beautiful a place as can be found. It is also known for incredible trout fishing, so it's become a favorite destination of Terry and the boys. Here's what their Homepage has to say about the place:

Hidden away in a little known and seldom explored corner of the Cascade Mountain Range is the historic hamlet of Mineral, Washington. Here the wildlife is bountiful and the landscape breathtaking.

I can certainly testify to the truth of that!

Yesterday, being a particularly beautiful, lazy day, Terry asked me to join him for a quick trip to collect Trout at Mineral. As much as I treasure the outdoors here, I'm not terribly fond of row-boating beyond an hour. Knowing it could well be a three hour event, I hemmed and hawed a bit before agreeing to go along.

As expected, the views from the lake were captivating. I sat in mesmerized awe as Terry paddled us to his favorite spot and then dropped anchor; two actually - one at the bow, and one at the stern. Within seconds he had his first hit and pulled up a beautiful, but too small fish. His (or her) life was spared. Then began the long, unfruitful dangling of line in a seemingly troutless void.

Growing bored & weary, Terry decided to move the boat to a better position. While I trained my eye on a soaring Osprey, he cautiously pulled up the front anchor, then made his way to pull up the back anchor, which was not far from where I was sitting. He stepped around me, and just as he gripped the anchor line, in a flash, the back end of the boat pitched, tipped and dipped itself into the water, dumping Terry and me into lake. There had been no time to assess & correct; only time to acknowledge the power of pitch, and of gravity! Quickly the boat began to take on more-and-more water as we coughed & sputtered.

The first words from my mouth? I don't think you'll catch any fish this way either.

To say we were stunned is to put it in much too simple terms. We looked at each other with incredulity before swimming back to the now-sinking boat. As Terry grabbed the flotation devices, I scrambled to salvage what I could from my purse (which normally I wouldn't bring along, but wanted somewhere to tuck my phone & camera). Even in this troubled condition, I didn't want to lose my wallet and have to replace it's contents. Ever so practical ...

Soon we heard young children from the shore hollering to see if we needed help. "Paleeeeeeze" came my immediate response. They took off running, and soon showed up with their mother. She and one of the teen boys jumped into the lake and swam out to us. Thank God for her level head, because she instructed me to make my way to her dock while she instructed Terry in the art of flipping a boat so it wouldn't actually sink. This they did while I labored to make my way ... fully clothed & shoe'd, clutching my purse, kicking for all I'm worth and using but one arm to steer.

Eventually a boat with four older people - Fishermen from Norway, they said (you just gotta love those Norwegians and their humor, huh Sonja & Debbie?) - show up in their motorized raft to help tow the awkward boat to the dock. With teamwork and level heads, the boat was finally set upright once again. Our rescuing angel managed to salvage one oar. Lost at sea was Terry's favorite fishing pole & hat, some tackle, and my cell phone and camera. And somewhere was floating one missing oar.

Once we determined that we were all safe and able-though wet-bodied, we bid our rescuers farewell, got into the boat and began making our way back to the boathouse; then onto home. We were delighted to see our Norwegian friends grab the missing, floating oar and deliver it to us. It sure made the return much easier.

On the ride home we laughed a little, but mostly we traveled in quiet - wet, cold, relieved. I confessed I'd been scared. Terry too. We talked about how different the outcome might have been were we farther out onto the lake, or at it's unpopulated far end. We calculated the numerable known Providences, like his having accidentally left his cell phone at home, or our positioning to that quick-thinking, strong swimming young mother, or to having tossed the two flotation devices into the boat at the last minute.

We heard from our children last evening. Certainly they expressed their care & concern, but mostly had a tremendously raucous laugh over the entire matter. We joined them. The only thing this family seems to love more than adventure is humor; and there's plenty of it to go around!

As I ponder our adventure this morning, I am mindful that the story is only half-told. There are life-lessons here ... but THOSE for another day.

Today I'm off to replace my cell phone, and will request the new number: 1-800-ribitt

We Older Types

2011-07-25T07:04:00.006-07:00

There's Sarah & Hannah & Naomi & even Rahab, not to mention the Marys, and Dorcus or . They pop up on our Popularity Charts as being women of noble character (most of the time). Then there's the quintessential cynic, Mrs. Job; and we simply must not forget the powerful Jezebel, or manipulating Sapphira ... a few ladies from the other extreme; the one lacking in character.

When I collect all the scriptures pertaining to women, I'm intrigued. It's stuff many of us learned from youth, though probably not in the sense God had in mind. Many a ~~bully,~~ ~~control freak~~ well-intentioned soul would have we ladies relegated to some quiet corner. Not that quiet corners are bad unless - of course - they are meant to deaden one's impact.

Here I am, one full year into retirement following a lifetime of energized living, brain strain and teamwork. What I'm experiencing is nothing at all like those things. As you might guess, it's far less energized and strained. That's good ... on some level. Certainly I have time for other pursuits; pursuits long abandoned given my oft-rugged work schedules of yesteryear.

All that said to tell you I am inspired anew by the scriptures pertaining to we older types. Not the heretofore mentioned interpretation, but the real, rich, robust and regal estate that's synonymous with them. I'm not done musing upon them, so I'm not yet ready to elaborate.

I just know that nothing compares to gray hair quite like the living of life. I'd hate to think I came by these strands as a result of worry, or mean-spiritedness, or as some faux evidence of piety.

No, today I'm wondering how I can employ all that gray hair so neatly coiffed beneath a mantle of blonde highlights. I don't mean in the money-earning sense, though that would certainly be OK with me. Rather, I am wondering if at long last there aren't a plethora of new dreams to be dreamed; new lessons to be learned; new heights to be scaled; new students to teach; new avenues to travel?

I'm further wondering if I haven't somehow qualified as the Older Woman in Titus 2 and elsewhere? Afterall, those credentials don't come via academia or brief life-spans. One has to have been on a fairly lengthy walk-about to gather such credentials.

This I know: What I thought was important and worthy in my youth makes me ~~cry~~ ~~or pull my hair out~~ chuckle today. With 20/20 hindsight as my vantage point, I am astounded at how long it took the Lord to get me here. What else don't I know?

The years teach much which the days never knew.

~Ralph Waldo Emerson

The great thing about getting older is that you

don't lose all the other ages you've been.

~Madeleine L'Engle

The Proliferation of DNA

2011-07-22T06:23:00.002-07:00

DNA

Deoxyribonucleic Acid

A few short years ago it was an unknown domain. But in 1953, scientific advances by Rosalind Franklin and Maurice Wilkins of Britain brought DNA into the world of Biotechnology. Little did they - or we - know then how vital that finding would be some 45-50 years hence.

Known as the "secret to life", everything & everyone has DNA. It differs from one person to another like a fingerprint, setting each of us apart in the truly unique sense of our being. The intricate strands that comprise DNA's structure are like a woven tapestry, and equally beautiful to behold under the microscope.

It has now become the stuff of detectives, the key to riddles, and the means by which criminals are either convicted or set free. No intelligent crime show can sustain itself without it's use.

Moreover, wherever you and I go, we leave a little, or a lot of ourselves - our own, personal DNA - there. Skin cells and hair shafts are continually sloughing; and even body fluids remain long after we've exited. That glass of ice tea we just sipped contains our personal signature. Thus we leave a trail that is, or could be easily tracked.

Fascinating stuff here. Star Trek stuff.

All by itself, DNA and it's implications are amazing. But when you marry it to the spiritual context it becomes more amazing still. Not only do our physical bodies have this incredible capacity for cell-signatures, but so do our spiritual selves. Whether we are to be born, or born-again, there's a knitting & weaving that takes place. It's a design crafted long before 1953 when Franklin & Wilkins figured it out.

For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb...

My frame was not hidden from you
when I was made in the secret place ...

Psalm 139:13, 15

Think of it, this leaving behind of DNA in the spiritual sense. What might it say about us? What would those strands communicate about our parentage and health; about where we've journeyed in life?

But thanks be to God, who always ...

uses us to spread the aroma

of the knowledge of Him everywhere.

For we are to God

the pleasing aroma of Christ

among those who are being saved

and those who are perishing.

2 Corinthians 2:14-15

Even our words factor into the equation. They are part & parcel of our spiritual DNA, with everlasting implications.

A good man brings good things out

of the good stored up in him,

and an evil man brings evil things out of

the evil stored up in him.

But I tell you that everyone will have

to give account on the day of judgment

for every empty word they have spoken.

For by your words you will be acquitted,

and by your words you will be condemned.”

Matthew 12:35-37

The mysteries of the universe are beyond measure. Men continue to discover what God has made plainly known long ago, unraveling this secret and that. Yet somehow, evidence of His DNA is the one discovery that is often missed by the scientific eye. It is found new & fresh by just plain folks - one person at a time.

Hey, how about a new show: Creation Scene Investigation?

Dirty Ole' Shoe

2011-07-20T11:40:00.001-07:00

This was sent to me by a friend. It's simply too rich to NOT pass along ...

I showered and shaved; I adjusted my tie.

I got there and sat in a pew just in time.

Bowing my head in prayer, as I closed my eyes.

I saw the shoe of the man next to me,
touching my own. I sighed.

With plenty of room on either side, I thought,
'Why must our soles touch?'

It bothered me, his shoe touching mine...
But it didn't bother him much.

A prayer began: 'Our Father' I thought, '
This man with the shoes, has no pride.

They're dusty, worn, and scratched. Even worse,
there are holes on the side!'

'Thank You for blessings,' the prayer went on.

The shoe man said a quiet 'Amen.'

I tried to focus on the prayer, but my
thoughts were on his shoes again.

Aren't we supposed to look our best.
When walking through that door?

'Well, this certainly isn't it,' I thought,
glancing toward the floor.

Then the prayer was ended,
and the songs of praise began.

The shoe man was certainly loud,
sounding proud as he sang.

His voice lifted the rafters, his hands were raised high.

The Lord could surely hear the
shoe man's voice from the sky.

It was time for the offering;
and what I threw in was steep.

I watched as the shoe man reached
into his pockets so deep.

I saw what was pulled out; what the shoe man put in.

Then I heard a soft 'clink' ... as when silver hits tin.

The sermon really bored me to tears, and that's no lie.

It was the same for the shoe man,
for tears fell from his eyes.

At the end of the service, as is the custom here...

We must greet new visitors,
And show them all good cheer.

But I felt moved somehow,
and wanted to meet the shoe man.

So after the closing prayer,
I reached over and shook his hand.

He was old and his skin was dark,
and his hair was truly a mess.

But I thanked him for coming, for being our guest..

He said, 'My names' Charlie,
I'm glad to meet you, my friend.'

There were tears in his eyes, but he had a large, wide grin.

'Let me explain,' he said, wiping tears from his eyes.

'I've been coming here for months,
and you're the first to say 'Hi.''

'I know that my appearance is not like all the rest.

'But I really do try to always look my best.'

'I always clean and polish my
shoes before my very long walk.

'But by the time I get here,
they're dirty and dusty, like chalk.'

My heart filled with pain,
and I swallowed to hide my tears.

As he continued to apologize, for daring to sit so near

He said, 'When I get here, I know I must look a sight.

'But I thought if I could touch you,
'Then maybe our souls might unite.'

I was silent for a moment, knowing whatever was said

Would pale in comparison;
I spoke from my heart, not my head.

'Oh, you've touched me,' I said, 'And taught me, in part;

'That the best of any man
'Is what is found in his heart.'

The rest, I thought, This shoe-man will never know -

Like just how thankful I really am,
that his dirty old shoe touched my soul.