The Silly Goose Society

Snowballs!

2012-01-05T11:31:00.006-05:00

January, the first month in any new year, stretches long in front of us ~ a harbinger of hopes, a dangler of dreams, a blank book of accomplishments. It is the landscape of new fallen snow, pock-free, pristine, pure. I am tempted to keep my hands off so as not to mar the illusion of fresh starts and sinless beginnings it offers. I am tempted to hang January on the wall and gaze on its beauty from afar rather than dive in and mess up the scenery. But...(yes, there is always a but)...

We are not called to merely sit in the bleachers of life to watch others play, watch others tackle, watch others score, watch others make snow angels. We are called to pull on our boots, grab our gloves, and dash headlong into the white stuff, to work up a sweat underneath our woolens, and to make our marks.

January, the first month in any new year, stretches long in front of us. Time to make some snowballs!

Kitchen Sink

2011-11-30T09:36:00.007-05:00

Never underestimate
the power of the
kitchen sink.

It's where
the Lord hears
all the dirty secrets
hidden in my heart,
the stuff
too shameful to share
anyplace else,
too painful to bear
alone.

The Lord
hears them all,
heals them all,
immerses me
in the fountain
of forgiveness.

At the kitchen sink
I scrub dishes,
He scrubs me.

I am stained
by unrighteousness,
I am soiled
by unholiness ~
What can wash away my sin?
Nothing but the blood of Jesus.

Turn on the tap
and let it flow.

Homemade Applesauce

2011-11-10T16:39:00.009-05:00

I am not an applesauce lover. I do enjoy an occasional crispy, juicy apple or a serving of hot apple crisp, but I've never evolved into an applesauce lover. Unless it's homemade. And a tad warm. And a tad tart. Then I morph into a most ardent fan! Herewith is the recipe my mother handed down, and boy howdy, it's both simple and delicious.

Ingredients:

15 or so medium-sized Granny Smith apples
1 cup of granulated white sugar
4 teaspoons of lemon juice

Directions:

*Wash and quarter all the apples and place in a large pot with 1.5 cups of water.
*Bring water to a boil.
*Cover the pot and reduce to simmer for 45 minutes or so (until all apples are soft).
*Remove from heat and stir in the sugar and lemon juice.
*Put mixture through a strainer to deal with skins and seeds.

Yield:

Approximately 15 to 16 cups of creamy, sweet-tart heaven!

Fiddler's Green

2011-10-26T12:12:00.003-04:00

Yesterday I finished reading a book that moved me to tears by the time I turned the last page. That rarely happens to me, so when it does, I feel the need to tell the world.

Fiddler's Green, by A. S. Peterson, is the sequel to his first magnificent novel, The Fiddler's Gun. It is the continuing saga of a young woman named Phinea Button who abandons her small-town existence in colonial Georgia for the travels and tumults of the open sea. She sheds the clothing of an orphan and dons the sailor's garb out of necessity, not out of desire. Leaving behind her life and her loves to pursue freedom, not just for herself, but for her friends and her country, Fin (her nickname) is plunged into a variety of escapades and battles that eventually bring her full circle.

If The Fiddler's Gun introduced us to Fin and her compatriots and laid the groundwork for this enchanting tale, then Fiddler's Green immerses us in the story in spades. Peterson wields words and weaves images as skillfully as Michaelangelo painted the Sistine Chapel. His beautiful ability to develop characters who inspire love or hate as they deal with matters of life and death left this reader yearning for a continuation. I was not ready to bid farewell to all those I had come to cherish and who had captured my heart.

Well done, Mr. Peterson. You are a gifted writer and a soulful tale-teller, and I am pleased to have made your acquaintance.

The Truth

2011-10-22T19:13:00.007-04:00

Doubter (the skeptic) says, "Convince me, so I can believe the truth."

Digger (the seeker) says, "Show me, so I can discover the truth."

Disciple (the student) says, "Instruct me, so I can practice the truth."

Dreamer (the prophet) says, "Visit me, so I can preach the truth."

Dancer (the worshiper) says, "Inspire me, so I can celebrate the truth."

Jesus Christ (the Messiah) says, "I am the truth."

The Wonders of His Love

2011-09-28T22:26:00.007-04:00

If I only catch a sunrise
awash in yellow pink,
If I only wash the dishes
in a white ceramic sink,
If I only smell the coffee
steaming, frothy, in a mug,
I'll sing an Alleluia!
to the wonders of His love.

If I only hear the mewing
of a newborn baby's cry,
If I only bathe the kitten
and towel-fluff it dry,
If I only mop the kitchen
and sweep the braided rug,
I'll sing an Alleluia!
to the wonders of His love.

If I only spot a redbird
beneath the evergreen,
If I only scrub the bathroom
to a sparkly, shiny clean,
If I only fold the laundry
in a faded plastic tub,
I'll sing an Alleluia!
to the wonders of His love.

If I can find the holy
in my ordinary day,
If I can drink some heaven
from this earthen pot of clay,
If I can sacrifice my praise
to the One who dwells above,
I'll sing an Alleluia!
to the wonders of His love.

Mary Jane

2011-09-03T20:21:00.004-04:00

Sorrow wraps around us
like a fleece blanket
on a summer day ~
not wanted,
not needed,
out of season,

heavy.

It covers the promise
we know to be true,
that we haven't really lost

you.

We cast it off,
this heaviness,
choosing instead
to lay bare
the lightness,
the sweetness,
the gladness
of our memories

of you.

Only a moment
separates us,
a whisper of time.
Sorrow will give way,
yielding its temporary sway
to the joy of eternity
and reunion

with you.

Psalm 73: 25,26 ~ Whom have I in heaven but Thee? And besides Thee, I desire nothing on earth. My flesh and my heart may fail; but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.

Never Give Up

2011-08-21T12:22:00.004-04:00

"Let us not become weary..."

I am no longer a young mother. I am empty of the energy and enthusiasm I possessed when I was in my 30s. I flag these days. A lot. Parenting a depressed, defiant teenager can be a spiritual, mental, emotional, and physical drain on even the most-equipped, most-willing mother. Frequently I want to throw my hands up in the air and yell, "I'm done! Either she goes, or I go!" I grow weary of the ceaseless drama and the endless intrusion of physicians, counselors, psychiatrists, and therapists in our lives. I grow weary of the struggle of trying to raise a child who doesn't even want a mother. Every cell in my body and every hope in my heart is spent...depleted...weary.

"in doing good..."

Each morning I get out of bed with a positive mindset, but by day's close, I am beaten down and discouraged. What good do I do, and what difference does it make? I am not 'allowed' to develop and nurture a relationship with our daughter (her decision), the way I did with our first daughter. So I go through the motions of doing good -- cooking, cleaning, chauffering -- with the hope that some day she will look back and acknowledge and appreciate that I did what I was supposed to do, even if it wasn't all that I wanted to do. I want to do good in intangible ways as well -- making her laugh, worshipping the Lord together, discussing life, enjoying a movie. But for now, I am restricted in how I can do good, and it's just the bare bones.

"for at the proper time..."

How I wish that *today* would show evidence of healing and restoration, that *today* I would find a crumb of growth and change. I grow impatient waiting for 'the day' which, honestly, I fear might never arrive or might arrive only after I've passed on. She might be 18 or 25 or 40 before it's the 'proper time.' But I cling to God's promise that He will restore the years that the locusts have eaten. I have to, or I won't endure.

"we will reap a harvest..."

I can't wait to put on my dancing shoes and clap my hands when the harvest is ready! To witness the seeds of love, forgiveness, and trust taking root in our daughter's broken and bitter heart will be such a season of rejoicing. For now, those seeds lie under a blanket of fear, doubt, and disbelief, but the harvest *will* come in. God does not make empty promises.

"if we do not give up."

I long to give up. I long to pass the cup. I long to surrender to my failed attempts at being the mother I dreamed of being to this little scrappy bird who resists and rejects me at every turn. But we both live in the nest, and it's my instinct and responsibility to teach her how to fly. When every raw nerve and every suffering brain cell is screaming "Quit!", I will hold on and yell back, "Never!" And with God's help, I will be a woman of my word.

(ref. Galatians 6:9)

There

2011-08-10T16:58:00.013-04:00

I don't like you
as my mother.
I don't want you
as my mother.
I don't need you
as my mother.

The words -
hung like clothes
on a line -
dripped with
defiance
certainty
bitterness
pain.

The words -
delivered
from the womb of
abandonment
abuse
rejection
grief -
sliced
the hearing heart
into filets
of sorrow
and left it
riven
and
bloodied
on
the cutting board.

What
would a mother say
What
should a mother do
Where
could a mother go
from

there?

I don't like you.
I don't want you.
I don't need you.

The words
careened
around the room
like a teenaged driver
late for curfew,
like an arrow
seeking an apple,
like a bowling ball
bearing down
on tenpins.

Screech.

Swoosh.

Strike.

There.

sanctuary

2011-07-25T19:02:00.004-04:00

sometimes
morning comes too soon
evening comes too late
and
between
the dawn
and
the dusk
hearts hurt
minds blow
spirits shake

i seek escape
i seek refuge
i seek

sanctuary

but
sanctuary
is elusive
hiding in the shadows
of noise
of stress
of strife
of life

a flutter of wings
a flash of feathers
surprises me
surrounds me
shelters me

sanctuary

Psalm 91:4 ~ He will cover you with His pinions, and under His feathers you will find refuge.

America the Beautiful

2011-07-04T16:34:00.002-04:00

I make no bones about it. I have always believed that this song should be our national anthem. It's much easier to sing, and the lyrics are beautiful, just like our country.

"America the Beautiful"

O beautiful for spacious skies, for amber waves of grain,
for purple mountain majesties above the fruited plain!
America! America! God shed His grace on thee
and crown thy good with brotherhood from sea to shining sea.

O beautiful for pilgrim feet, whose stern impassioned stress
a thoroughfare for freedom beat across the wilderness!
America! America! God mend thine ev'ry flaw,
confirm thy soul in self-control, thy liberty in law.

O beautiful for heroes proved in liberating strife,
who more than self their country loved and mercy more than life!
America! America! may God thy gold refine
'til all success be nobleness, and ev'ry gain divine.

O beautiful for patriot dream that sees beyond the years
Thine alabaster cities gleam -- undimmed by human tears!
America! America! God shed His grace on thee
and crown thy good with brotherhood from sea to shining sea.

Happy Birthday, America!

With love and prayers,
A Grateful Citizen

Hollow Heart

2011-06-29T14:59:00.003-04:00

Make room for me
in your hollow heart;
if you let me in,
I'll do my part;
if you shut the door
and send me away,
I'll just knock again
another day.

Lost and Found

2011-06-13T09:19:00.012-04:00

You've met them before, whether in real life or reel life. The nasty little men whom no one likes (except hopefully their wives and children, if they have them). Something about their arrogant, smarmy manner stirs up a feeling akin to a distasteful hairball in your heart. You would like nothing better than to have nothing to do with them. They are that despicable.

And then you remember. You groan as you remember, but you remember.

They, too, are made in God's image and are precious in His sight.

Yeah, I know. It would be much easier to continue disdaining them than to pray for them, to continue disliking them than to love them, to continue ignoring them than to engage them.

Zaccheus was a member of this club. A despised tax gatherer. Rich. Short. He brings to mind Louie in the television sitcom 'Taxi' and Russell in the reality show 'Survivor' and Gollum in 'The Lord of the Rings.' People we love to hate. It's not hard to imagine why not many, if any, in the town of Jericho ranked him high on their list of friends.

And yet.

This nasty little man had a heart hungry for Jesus. Zaccheus had heard He was passing through, and he would do whatever it took just to catch a glimpse of this marvelous man. Climb up a tree? No sweat. If he had to humiliate himself in front of the milling crowd by scrambling awkwardly and clumsily up the branches, huffing and puffing in the process, so be it. He didn't hesitate. Zaccheus probably figured this might be his only opportunity to see the man his whole world was buzzing about.

Would we be willing to ditch our pride like Zaccheus just to encounter Jesus?

When Jesus neared the sycamore, He looked up and called this nasty little man by name, bidding him to hurry and come down, for He would be staying at his house that day. Oh, yeah, that was a big hit with the righteous rabble. They had the audacity to grumble about Jesus hanging out with a sinner. Their hardened hearts, deafened ears, and blinded eyes prevented them from understanding that that was what this Jesus did. He hung out with sinners. He ate with sinners. He loved sinners. Disgusting. Scandalous.

But the story doesn't end there. One thing remained. Jesus called, but Zaccheus needed to respond. Accept or decline? He scrambled down that tree with gusto and received Jesus gladly. Setting aside whatever plans he had for the day and ignoring the taunts and jeers, Zaccheus readily accepted the Lord's invitation.

One life was changed forever that day in Jericho. A nasty little man who was lost became a son of Abraham who was found.

Jesus is calling our names today. Will we seek His face? Will we do whatever it takes to catch a glimpse and to commune with Him? He is standing at the foot of the sycamore, bidding us to come down and dine with Him. Not just for a day or two, but for eternity. Will we accept His invitation?

For the Son of Man has come to seek and to save that which was lost. ~ Luke 19:10

Heart Like a Rock

2011-05-29T21:17:00.003-04:00

Sometimes
I hear it beating,
that steady rhythm
of coursing blood,
sung like a holy hymn.

Sometimes
I feel it retreating,
shrinking on the throne,
drinking from the well
that turns flesh to stone.

Only one cure
for a heart like a rock ~
smite it with Your rod
and let the water flow,
My Healer and My God.

Mother's Day Haiku

2011-05-05T16:32:00.002-04:00

what is motherhood
fiery furnace, well of joy
never a dull day

*

sunshine and laughter
scraped knees and college degrees
reading books in bed

*

gift from God to some
others suffer empty wombs
blessing and sorrow

*
what is motherhood
tiny toes and grandpa's nose
mix of thorn and rose

I Knew Not the Man

2011-04-22T12:20:00.008-04:00

I knew not the man
crowned with jagged thorn,
wrapped in bloodied linen,
whose battered body
I lifted up.

I knew not the man
whose flesh tore
upon meeting the nail,
whose bones shuddered
with each hammer's blow,
whose brow glistened
with the sweat
of a labored soul.

His name was not told to me,
nor his age,
his place of birth,
his line of work.
But it was evident
he was a criminal.
Only criminals
are crucified.

What could I care
about the man
stretched limp across the wood
his head heavy
with the weight of the crown?
I had a job to do,
a command to carry out,
six mouths to feed at home.

I knew not the man
whose eye shed no tear,
whose lips screamed no pain,
whose sagging shoulders
seemed to bear
the sins of the world.

I knew not the man.

Do I not cry out in wonder then
to discover
that the man knew me?

Wake Up!

2011-04-15T10:24:00.006-04:00

Like a buried crocus
casting off winter's heavy cloak,
she pushes through frozen layers
of slumber and darkness,
offering hope
to a world held hostage
by winter.

"I give you a gift!"
she cries,
not knowing
if it will be noticed,
not knowing
if it will be received.
"Wake up!"
"Wake up!"

Life,
that fragile flower,
emerges from death's embrace
and offers to dance for a season
with all who will take her hand,
to dance for eternity
with all who will receive her gift.

(Inspired by I Corinthians 15:55 ~ O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?)

Because

2011-04-02T12:14:00.009-04:00

God tells us in His Word that when we encounter trials of many kinds, we are to consider it pure joy because we know that the testing of our faith develops endurance. And endurance's perfect result is that we become perfect and complete, lacking in nothing. (James 1: 2-4)

A closer look might be worthwhile because...well, you'll see...

When ~ Rest assured, He did not mean 'if.' It is only a matter of time, but we will encounter trials of many kinds in the course of our lives on earth.

Encounter ~ There is no way to avoid or escape said trials. They will meet us face-to-face, and we will have to deal with them.

Many Kinds ~ Trials come in all shapes and sizes, from health matters to financial problems to relationship issues to natural disasters. Every aspect of daily life - spiritual, mental, emotional, and physical - is fair game.

Consider ~ Think about these trials carefully, especially with regard to taking some action, according to one dictionary entry. Refrain from knee-jerk reactions in the heat of the moment; rather, deliberately contemplate how to respond in a way that is befitting a child of God.

Joy ~ So not a word that the world would employ to describe such trials, but it is exactly how God in His wisdom thinks and works. Instead of wailing and thrashing our way through the storms, let us choose to respond radically, not as the world responds, but with the spirit of joy He lavishly provides.

Because ~ This is too important to glide over, for it is here we are encouraged by the reason for the trials. That age-old question 'Why?' we are fond of asking is about to be answered. This little conjunction is the linch-pin that connects the pain to the purpose.

Testing ~ Heh. You thought you were finished with tests once you graduated from high school or college. Sorry. Tests are a fact of life finally and forever done with only when death arrives at our doorsteps. And yes, it's pass or fail.

Faith ~ Not a blind leap but a bold expression of belief in the One Who is able to stand in the furnace with us, to ride in the rocking boat with us, to dwell in the belly of the whale with us - and to deliver us.

Develops ~ Think photo lab for a minute. God - if we let Him - will take the negatives in our lives and transform them into positives, but it's a process that can only successfully take place in a dark room.

Endurance ~ More than just a good character quality, endurance is a timeless treasure. Once it is unburied and brought to light in our lives, we will be able to soar on wings like eagles, to run and not grow weary, to walk and not be faint. When troubles come and we are tempted to throw in the towel, to leave on a jet plane, to board the last train to Clarksville, our feet will be firmly planted. We will hang in there. We will endure.

Perfection and Completion ~ Okay, here's the reason, here's the answer that 'because' connects us to. This is the prize for staying the course. No more blemishes, no more brokenness. We will lack for nothing. We will not fall short. Glory to be to God for this beautiful gift.

So. Consider it all pure joy then. Because.

Once Bitten, Forever Smitten

2011-03-15T12:59:00.005-04:00

I miss homeschooling.

March was the month I would finalize my plan for the coming year and get ready to order from the catalogs I had scoured in January and February. "Christmas" arrived in April and May when the UPS truck delivered boxes of goodies to the house (yay, brown!). June meant a day at the curriculum fair to pick up odds and ends and to glean advice from the speakers. The research, the choosing, the ordering, the delivery, the fair -- aside from being able to learn alongside my children and to 'do life' with them, this was my favorite part of the adventure.

I miss those 14 years.

I believe it will take a long time for homeschooling to leave my system. Once bitten, forever smitten.

To those of you still on the journey, God bless you and your families, and set another place at the kitchen table for me ~ I just might show up for a science experiment, a history project, or an art lesson. An extra pair of hands never hurts.

Available or Annoyed?

2011-03-09T17:43:00.003-05:00

Every day we are given multiple opportunities to do the work of the Lord, but whether or not we actually do the work depends on whether we are available or annoyed. What we perceive as irritations, disruptions, or interruptions really are divine doors through which we can enter gladly and expectantly or kicking and screaming. It's all about mindset.

Today was a busy day of errand running for me. In the house. Out of the house. In the car. Out of the car. Just a really chopped up day in which I didn't get much of anything done on the homefront, and I definitely didn't have much time to hit the pause button and relax a little.

So when I arrived home after getting supper at the McDonald's drive-through, I was not happy to see that the cashier had forgotten to subtract the $2.00 coupon off the total bill. Some may figure it wouldn't be worth the money to drive back and see a manager about the $2.00, but I'm a principled gal, and it was the principle of the thing.

I was mildly irritated at the thought of the interruption in my already hectic day, but I proceeded anyway. Hey, two bucks is two bucks. On the short drive back to the restaurant, I made a conscious decision to let go of my irritation and to be as kind as I could be, as kind as a Christian should be, as kind as Jesus would be.

While speaking with the manager about the goof-up, I noticed the customer she had just helped and who was waiting for her order. "Don't we know each other?" I asked. Turns out she was the bakery clerk at a long-gone grocery store I used to shop at with my then toddler daughter. As we chit-chatted, memories came flooding back to both of us of our encounters at the store before it closed and she was forced to find employment elsewhere.

When her order was ready to go, she realized she had more bags and boxes than arms, so I offered to help her carry the items out to her car. She gratefully accepted. I know it was not a coincidence that I was right where I needed to be to lend someone a loving hand.

I had made the choice to let go of irritation, and God replaced it with joy. It was as if He had tapped me on the shoulder and inquired, "I have something I want you to do, but I will need to interrupt your day to do it. Will you be available? Or will you be annoyed?"

Every day we are given multiple opportunities to do the work of the Lord, but whether or not we actually do the work depends on our answer to His question.

The Great Gifts

2011-02-28T12:53:00.011-05:00

All she ever wanted to be was a mother. At one time, she also wanted to be a teacher, but that never officially came about. However, she was content because... all she ever wanted to be was a mother. Mothers love. Mothers kiss. Mothers hug. Mothers protect. And mothers teach. Usually the loving, kissing, hugging, protecting, and teaching are received, and why wouldn't they be? They are great gifts. Once in a while, along comes a child who does not receive. She pushes away. She runs. She hides. She rejects. She rebels. The great gifts are refused. What is to be done? The mother, pregnant with desire and emotion, flounders, not knowing what to do with the store of great gifts meant for her child. They must be given, or she will explode. Year after year, the great gifts are offered. Year after year the receiving does not take place. Laden and weary and frustrated, the mother herself begins to slowly push away, to run, to hide, to reject, to rebel. This is not the way it was supposed to be. This is not what she expected. She groans under the weight and grieves over the loss. Nevertheless, she latches onto the fragile wings of hope and waits. And waits. And waits. Some day, she will not have a reluctant child. Some day, she will not be a reluctant mother. Some day, when the great gifts are offered, they will finally be received. Some day, God will restore the years that the locusts have eaten.

Love Is

2011-02-14T09:13:00.002-05:00

waking up to sunshine tiny baby toes FOR GOD SO LOVED purple mountain majesty crashing surf first crocus of spring THE WORLD old woman in a rocking chair children laughing THAT HE GAVE feeding the poor robins singing free medical care HIS ONLY SON reading for the blind THAT WHOEVER housing the homeless sun moon stars BELIEVES IN HIM thunderstorms shoveling your neighbor's snow visiting the sick SHALL NOT PERISH calling your mother calling your father BUT HAVE singing in the choir offering childcare to a single parent hugging kissing EVERLASTING LIFE

Winter in My Soul

2011-01-23T20:15:00.005-05:00

It is winter
in my soul.

Hope is frozen
like an icicle,
clinging to the eave
of my heart;
it longs to leave
the cold prison
of winter
and cleave
to the warm embrace
of spring.

It is winter
in my soul.

But a thaw is coming.

What Is Man?

2011-01-02T15:27:00.004-05:00

Your mind
conceived the shapes and shadows
of all that exists.

Your fingers
colored the empty spaces
between the lines.

Your eyes
switched the lights on
in the darkened void.

Your breath
pumped being
into lifeless forms.

Your heart
poured love
into the naked human soul.

When I consider
Your mind
Your fingers
Your eyes
Your breath
Your heart,
I am humbled
by the fact
that I am but man.

(based on Psalm 8:3,4 ~ When I consider Your heavens, the work of Your fingers, the moon and the stars, which You have set in place, what is man that You are mindful of him...)

If By A Star

2010-12-07T10:55:00.002-05:00

If by a star I am led to thee,
to the ancient barn of birth,
bearing my bag of treasures
and a heart and soul of mirth...

If by a star I am led to thee,
to kneel upon hay and stone,
to worship thee, the cradled Christ,
at rest in your earthly throne...

If I untie my treasure trove,
reach in to grasp a gift,
shall my hand embrace a bar of gold?
What shall my hand uplift?
Should I bring forth fine frankincense
whose fragrance pleases thee,
or maybe myrrh, a mingled blend, aromatic -
or all three?

What is thy desire, little one,
what fills your heart with joy?
Could it be these costly gifts
or a rough and tumbly toy?
The only other thing I own,
sincere though it may be,
is the timid, tarnished, trembling heart
that beats inside of me.

So if by a star I am led to thee,
to the ancient barn of birth,
to kneel beside thy humble bed
to offer thee something of worth,
I shall open wide my treasure trove,
reach into its pocket deep,
surrender up my heart and soul
for the cradled Christ to keep.

Special

2010-12-06T10:53:00.001-05:00

I don't want to be special.

I want to be a boring homemaker with a boring husband and boring children. I want us to be so boring that no one would look twice, that we would be neither rich nor poor, happy nor sad, here nor there. I just want to be.

Some say I must be special since God has chosen to give me troubled people and thorny paths, that He knew I would be able to endure, that He knew I wouldn't refuse the cup.

I say I don't want to be special. I say I never asked to be special. I say I'm tired of being special.

I yearn for the quiet walk in the woods when life gives me roller coaster rides. I long to listen to the gentle lapping of the ocean waves when life throws screaming fits in my ears. I crave the softness of a comfy couch by a crackling fire when life grabs me in the gut and wrenches my heart in two.

I don't want to be special, but it is the cup God has given me, and so I must drink, for to choose not to drink is to abandon hope altogether.

The One

2010-10-31T09:39:00.007-04:00

I am the one.

Not a face in the crowd,
Not a fish in the sea,
I am the one.

The woman
who endured years of pain,
who depleted her wages,
who sought wisdom from physicians.

The woman
who heard of a Man,
who marveled at His power,
who longed for a miracle.

I am the one.

The woman
who dared to believe,
who clung to faith,
who crawled toward hope.

The woman
who quietly pressed forward,
who timidly fingered the cloak,
who humbly prayed for healing.

His loving lips inquired,
"Who is the one..."
His compassionate eyes searched,
"Who is the one..."
His generous heart offered,
"Who is the one..."

I am the one.
I am the one.
I am the one.

Not a face in the crowd,
Not a fish in the sea,
I am the one in need of
The Teacher's touch,
The Messiah's mercy.

El Roi ~ The God Who Sees,
Jehovah Rapha ~ The God Who Heals,
You are The One!

(based on the afflicted woman in the crowd ~ Mark 5:25-34)

Nothing But A Dog Would Do

2010-10-11T19:41:00.007-04:00

My father, who turns 84 this month, asked me to write him a poem for a birthday present. It was inevitable that I should write a piece about his precious dogs, for, until just recently, he has always had one at his side. This poem is lovingly dedicated to the furry friends who brought my father great joy through the years and to my father who loved them back, no holds barred. Mickey, Taffy, Bullet, Fritzie, Beau, Chips, Newfie, Kate, and Pippi ~ thank you for blessing my father all the days of his life.

Nothing but nothing
stirred his soul
like the wag of a tail,
like a playful bark,
like a cold wet nose,
like a walk in the park...

Nothing but a dog would do.

From earliest days
there was always a pup
to fetch a ball,
to chew a stick,
to bury a bone,
to offer a lick...

Nothing but a dog would do.

He cared not for money
but he was richer by far
with his loyal companions
than emperors and kings
with endless dominions
and fine diamond rings...

Nothing but a dog would do.

There was something about
a four-legged pal
with a shiny black snout,
with a tilted head,
with a padded paw,
with a flop on the bed...

There was something that only
my father knew...

Nothing but a dog would do.

Invitation

2010-09-21T11:01:00.003-04:00

death and darkness
shroud the land,
scaling mountains,
shifting sands;
creating chaos,
trampling hope,
denying people
the power to cope;
dragging downward
laden souls,
leaving shipwrecks
on the shoals.

yet life and light
in battle roam,
redeeming hearts,
restoring homes,
lifting heads
once sagging drear,
offering love
where once was fear.

'tis He who reigns
in victory,
'tis He whose form
upon the tree,
though scourged
and stretched
and stained by sin,
invites the world
to enter in.

~

I John 5:12 ~ He who has the Son has life; he who does not have the Son of God does not have life.

Boundaries

2010-09-11T13:41:00.005-04:00

the edges of earth
hemmed by Your hands
stitched by Your spirit
strain toward eternity,
yet know only
the inflexible limits
of time

day and night
stream steadily by,
from alpha
to omega
between
unbending bookends
of sun
and moon

summer and winter
rise and fall
according to Your plan,
framed by the seasons
You had reason
to create

only for a moment
will the edges hold
will the garment
keep shape
will generations
unfold

a new heaven
a new earth
will form on the wheel,
boundaries
will be broken
time just a token
of what used to be

(Psalm 74:16,17 ~ The day is Yours, and Yours also the night; You established the sun and moon. It was You who set all the boundaries of the earth; You made both summer and winter.)

Understanding My Poetry

2010-08-26T22:00:00.004-04:00

Just want to clarify that some of the poems I write are not necessarily because I am personally experiencing the subject matter at present but because I am inspired and compelled by scripture to immerse myself into the subject matter. At some time in my past I may have gone through the thoughts and emotions expressed, but not always. And at some time in my future I may go through them, but that remains to be seen. However, in all that I write, I honestly pour out my heart and soul in the hope that God will be glorified, other Christians will be ministered to, and those not yet in His family of believers will be irresistibly drawn to His love and truth.

"...for with the Lord is unfailing love and with Him is full redemption." (Psalm 130:7

The Turning

2010-08-26T15:43:00.005-04:00

The darkness
presses down,
paralyzing me,
preventing me,
playing with my mind

The darkness
feeds me the lie,
tells me that God
is gone,
tells me that I
am alone

The oil in my lamp
runs low,
hope flickers
goodbye,
doubt wonders
why

Where are you,
God?
Why can't I
find You?
My cries echo
in the emptiness

Are You here?
Are You hiding
in the shadows
of my despair?

I sense You,
though my sight
is failing;
do You hear
my wailing?

The darkness
presses down

Fill my lamp,
Lord,
keep it burning;
let there be
a turning
of my darkness
into light

(Psalm 18:28 ~ You, O Lord, keep my lamp burning; my God turns my darkness into light.)

Dance With Me

2010-08-11T23:17:00.007-04:00

You still melt me
with fudgy brown eyes
once flashing with mischief,
now flooding with memories.

You still melt me
with tawny rugged hands
once caressing my spine,
now fumbling with shoelaces.

When snow falls
and bitter cold
grips my bones,
you light a fire in me
that melts even
the deepest drift.

When did we grow
this old?
What happened
to spring
and summer
and how did we not see
autumn
on the horizon?

Gaze at me again
With mischief,
touch me again
with longing.
Gather me in your arms
and dance with me,
sweep me off my feet
and twirl me
like a bride.
Whisper in my ear
that our love,
unlike age,
has no limit.

Winter
is on its way.

(A gift to My Handyman on the occasion of our 34th wedding anniversary. I loved you then, I love you still.)

Drawing Near

2010-08-07T12:35:00.004-04:00

Heart pounding,
Feet hesitating,
I come ever closer.

He is so holy;
And I am a sinner.

Mind racing,
Hands clenching,
I draw ever nearer.

He is without blemish;
And I am spotted.

Nearer to the King's throne,
Nearer to the One who loves,
Nearer to the One who saves,
Nearer to the One who forgives.

Why am I so fearful?
Whom have I but the King, the One?
Is not His heart as sincere as mine?

I carry it to Him,
My feeble offering;
I lay it on the mercy seat,
And wait for His response.

Heart pounding,
Feet hesitating,
Mind racing,
Hands clenching...

I am accepted;
I am lifted up;
I am held;
I am His.

(Inspired by Hebrews 10:22 ~ Let us draw near to God with a sincere heart...)

Doorkeeper

2010-07-16T08:29:00.005-04:00

Housekeeper
Bookkeeper
Zookeeper
Doorkeeper

Yes, that's the one,
The job I want.

Doorkeeper

Watching Him cross the threshold
Waiting for His return

Eyeing the splash of red
On the lintel
Knowing it protects
Knowing it saves

This is the door
Where I watch and wait
For the thunder of His voice
For the thump of His feet
For the turn of His head

"Well done, my good and faithful servant..."

Doorkeeper

Yes, that's the job I want.

~

"I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than dwell in the tents of the wicked." (Psalm 84:10)

Blessed Are Those

2010-06-21T09:45:00.004-04:00

Hunger
Rolls relentlessly,
Roaming the heart,
Seeking the sustenance
That satisfies.

Thirst
Scorches the spirit
Torments the tongue,
Seeking the waters
That quench.

There is no food, no drink
In this fallen world
That quiets the rumbling,
That fills the cup.

O may I ne'er cease
To hunger
To thirst
To spend my days seeking
The righteousness
Of God.

Matthew 5:6

Breathe

2010-06-03T15:59:00.010-04:00

Breathe in, breathe out.
Breathe in, breathe out.

I wonder if today's the day.
It could have been yesterday.
It might be tomorrow.

Breathe in, breathe out.

My breaths are numbered
Like months in the womb,
Like pages in books,
Like days in the tomb.

Resurrection comes after
The last breath escapes
Its earthly cage,
Evaporating into eternity.

Breathe in, breathe out.

The longing to be with the One I love
Increases with age,
Intensifies with pain.
No more losses,
Only gain.

Breathe.

Bilbo Baggins ~ My Great-great-great-great Grandfather?

2010-06-02T10:04:00.002-04:00

I have read "The Hobbit" only once, and that was over 30 years ago (I know because my maiden name, not my married name, is written inside). I rarely read books twice, not because I don't love them, but because, as the saying goes, there are "so many books, so little time." Yet I pulled this one off the bookshelf last year and started reading it again.

I love the opening paragraph...

"In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat; it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort."

Who could resist that invitation to continue on?

So, of course, I continued on and had a thoroughly heart-warming visit with my old friends. I noticed something peculiar this time around, as pertains to a certain Bilbo Baggins. It would appear to all who know me well that the two of us could be related. Consider the evidence...

"There is little or no magic about them..." ~ That's me. I'm an ordinary, Plain Jane kind of gal.

"They are inclined to be fat in the stomach..." ~ An unfortunate similarity of late, though it wasn't always so.

"We are plain quiet folk and have no use for adventures. Nasty, disturbing uncomfortable things! Make you late for dinner!" ~ What can I say? I am the Queen of the Homebodies and would be perfectly content to leave the house only once a week, if that were possible.

"Sorry! I don't want any adventures, thank you. Not today..." ~ It may look like a boring little rut to you, but it's my life, and I like living in it.

"He did not remember things very well, unless he put them down on his Engagement Tablet..." ~ In addition to being the Queen of the Homebodies, I am also the Queen of the Memory-Challenged, which by default makes me the Queen of the Pencil & Paper Club. I have a Teflon brain, and nothing sticks to it anymore. If I don't write it down, it's history.

"He liked visitors, but he liked to know them before they arrived, and he preferred to ask them himself..." ~ Yep and yep and yep.

"Excitable little fellow. Gets funny queer fits, but he is one of the best, one of the best -- as fierce as a dragon in a pinch..." ~ I can get flummoxed easily, but when push comes to shove, you'll want me fighting on your side. I'm as loyal as they come.

So, there you have it. Bilbo and I are obviously cut from the same cloth, and I am convinced that my family tree has roots that reach all the way back to the Baggins clan (with perhaps a tad bit of Took wanderlust tossed in). Won't you join me for a spot of tea in my neither too-wet nor too-dry comfortable little hobbit hole? Oh, the stories I could tell...

Normal Teenager ~ An Oxymoron?

2010-05-18T12:20:00.003-04:00

Do you think it's possible for a teenager to be normal? I don't think I've met one yet. But then -- being incredibly, dramatically moody, sensitive, and hormonal *is* normal for this age, so maybe when my daughter tells me she's normal, there is a shred of truth to that.

To celebrate her normality, I wrote and sang this song for her:

I'm normal,
I'm normal,
At least I think I am;
I like to eat spaghetti
With lots and lots of jam;
I take my showers upside down,
I type with all my toes;
I do my breathing through my ears
And listen with my nose!

And what is normal, anyway? If it's the opposite of boring, then yep -- my teenager is as normal as they come.

Are You Listening?

2010-04-22T10:46:00.003-04:00

As the global community embraces the planet and makes promises to care for its well-being, let us not forget to turn our attention toward the One who created Earth and all it contains and give Him all the honor and glory...

This is my Father's world, and to my list'ning ears,
All nature sings, and 'round me rings the music of the spheres.
This is my Father's world, I rest me in the thought
Of rocks and trees, of skies and seas; His hand the wonders wrought.

This is my Father's world, the birds their carols raise;
The morning light, the lily white declare their Maker's praise.
This is my Father's world, He shines in all that's fair;
In the rustling grass I hear Him pass, He speaks to me ev'rywhere.

This is my Father's world, O let me ne'er forget
That though the wrong seems oft so strong, God is the Ruler yet.
This is my Father's world, the battle is not done;
Jesus who died shall be satisfied, and earth and heaven be one!

("This Is My Father's World" ~ lyrics by Babcock; music by Sheppard)

Up the Down Staircase

2010-04-19T22:18:00.002-04:00

Remembering this random conversation between then-13-year-old daughter and me still makes me laugh...

Daughter (upon coming downstairs in the morning): Ah, it's nice to see everyone is finally up.

Mother (grinning): Says the last one up.

Daughter: Oh, I've been up for a while, but I stayed in bed to read.

Mother: Well, that doesn't count then, because you're the last one down.

Daughter: Oh, I was down earlier to use the bathroon, so I was up before you and Dad.

Mother: But you went back up, so that still doesn't count.

Daughter: Yes, it does ~ I was up, then down, then up, then down.

Mother: But since you're the last one down now, you're still the last one up!

This kind of verbal volleyball is a regular occurrence in our family. I guess it keeps up mentally sharp (or possibly confused). Do you think we'd make good trial lawyers? :-)

Western Culture's Top 50 Must-Read Books

2010-04-07T16:42:00.000-04:00

This is from an article in 'World' magazine several years ago.

"Read at least one classic for every three new books. Doing that enables readers to avoid the narrowness of thinking that today's ideas are the only possible truths. We need 'to keep the clean sea breeze of the centuries blowing through our minds, and this can be done only by reading old books.'" (advice from C. S. Lewis)

"First comes the top five must-read classics of all time. Then, 45 more, sorted by their time period."

1 - The Bible
2 - Paradise Lost (Milton)
3 - King Lear (Shakespeare)
4 - The Pilgrim's Progress (Bunyan)
5 - The Temple (Herbert)

Ancient Books:

6 - The Iliad (Homer)
7 - Gorgias (Plato)
8 - Antigone (Sophocles)
9 - The Aeneid (Virgil)
10 - Sayings of the Fathers (trans. Hertz)
11 - Confessions (Augustine of Hippo)

Medieval:

12 - The Divine Comedy (Alighieri)
13 - The Canterbury Tales (Chaucer)
14 - Le Morte D'Arthur (Mallory)
15 - Summa Theologica (Aquinas)

Renaissance & Reformation:

16 - Dr. Faustus (Marlowe)
17 - The Faerie Queene (Spenser)
18 - Don Quixote (Cervantes)
19 - Institutes of the Christian Religion (Calvin)
20 - Book of Martyrs (Foxe)
21 - Devotions upon Emergent Occasions (Donne)
22 - Pensees (Pascal)
23 - The Two Treatises of Government (Locke)

18th Century:

24 - Gulliver's Travels (Swift)
25 - Robinson Crusoe (DeFoe)
26 - Tristram Shandy (Sterne)
27 - The Wealth of Nations (Smith)
28 - The Federalist Papers (Madison/Hamilton/Jay)
29 - Reflections on the Revolution in France (Burke)

19th Century:

30 - Sense and Sensibility (Austen)
31 - Lyrical Ballads (Wordsworth/Coleridge)
32 - Democracy in America (Tocqueville)
33 - Economic Harmonies (Bastiat)
34 - David Copperfield (Dickens)
35 - Moby Dick (Melville)
36 - Leaves of Grass (Whitman)
37 - Innocents Abroad (Twain)
38 - Crime and Punishment (Dostoevsky)
39 - Master and Man (Tolstoy)

20th Century:

40 - Ash Wednesday (Eliot)
41 - The Bear (Faulkner)
42 - The Violent Bear It Away (O'Connor)
43 - The Lord of the Rings (Tolkien)
44 - The Power and the Glory (Greene)
45 - The Chronicles of Narnia (Lewis)
46 - Survival in Auschwitz (Levi)
47 - Witness (Chambers )
48 - The Cypresses Believe in God (Gironella)
49 - The Civil War (Foote)
50 - The Second Coming (Percy)

I have read only six on this list. However, I do hope to read at least seven more. The rest I doubt I'll ever read, due to time and inclination.

Gathering Good Words

2010-04-05T11:50:00.003-04:00

I've been accumulating little sayings for a while now that touch either my heart or my funny bone and thought it would be fun to share them wih you. So, grab a mug of coffee, put your feet up, and enjoy...

*Good friends are like good bras ~ hard to find, comfortable, supportive, and always close to the heart.

*These things do 'appen! (Carlotta, The Phantom of the Opera)

*Advice from a snowman: Be a jolly, happy soul; spend time outdoors; stay cool; it's okay to be a little bottom-heavy; avoid melt-downs; be well-dressed; live well ~ life is short.

*Instant human ~ just add coffee!

*Stays up late on school nights.

*We are always the same age inside.

*Life is just so daily.

*Wake the coffee and smell up! (yours truly)

*I wish I was a bear. Everyone would expect me to have hairy legs, excess body fat, and to wake up growling.

*The nagging will continue until results improve.

*Drink coffee. Do stupid things faster and with more energy!

*Let's put the fun back in dysfunctional.

*Worry does not empty tomorrow of its troubles; it empties today of its strength.

*Life is simple. Eat. Sleep. Read.

*To die will be an awfully big adventure! (Peter Pan)

*Love me...that's all I ask of you! (Raoul & Christine, The Phantom of the Opera)

*A house without books is like a room without windows.

*Whatever you are, be a good one. (Abraham Lincoln)

*I'd rather be in my pajamas.

*Keep calm and carry on.

*His house was perfect, whether you liked food, or sleep, or work, or story-telling, or singing, or just sitting and thinking, best, or a pleasant mixture of them all. (C. S. Lewis, The Hobbit)

*It's been lovely, but I have to scream now!

*I am still learning. (Michelangelo, age 80)

*Embarrassing my children ~ just one more service I offer.

*I don't suffer from insanity. I enjoy every minute of it!

*Do not resent growing old. Many are denied the privilege. (Irish proverb)

And possibly my favorite...

*When the Queen is happy, there is peace in the kingdom.

Sweet Cornbread

2010-03-17T12:57:00.002-04:00

My family loves this recipe and gives it a 10 every time I make it. I only wish I knew where I had gotten it, so I could thank the chef.

Ingredients:

1 cup butter or margarine
3 cups Bisquick
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 cup yellow cornmeal
3/4 cup white sugar
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 cups milk
3 large eggs, beaten

Directions:

Combine all the dry ingredients in a large bowl.
Melt the butter and stir into the dry ingredients.
Stir in the milk and the eggs.
Pour the batter into a lightly greased 13x9x2 pan.
Bake at 350 degrees F for 30 minutes.

I hope you enjoy it as much as we all do!

Have You Pring-ed Today?

2010-03-10T12:33:00.004-05:00

I love words, and I especially love when I create a new word, usually by accident.

One time, I was reviewing scripture memory verses with our younger daughter and discussing how it applies to our lives today:

"When you go into battle in your own land against an enemy who is oppressing you, sound a blast on the trumpets. Then you will be remembered by the Lord your God and rescued from your enemies." (Numbers 10:9)

I asked her to think how we could "sound a blast on the trumpets" when needed, since we don't even own or know how to play a trumpet. I planned to suggest that we could always pray aloud or sing, but what came out of my mouth was 'pring.'

She liked the funny new word, so now we occasionally ask each other, "Have you pring-ed today?" as a fun reminder to "sound a blast on the trumpets" whenever we are dealing with the enemy in our Christian walk and need rescuing.

So let me ask you ~ Have you pring-ed today?

Carry Me Close

2010-02-24T10:11:00.002-05:00

"Carry Me Close"

I've wandered away
From Your comforting arms,
And the beat of Your heart
Has grown faint;
Search for me, God,
And carry me close,
Close to Your heart again.

I've left the green pastures
You led me to,
And the sound of Your voice
Has grown faint;
Speak to me, God,
And carry me close,
Close to Your heart again.

My soul needs restoring
My cup's running low,
And the shape of Your face
Has grown faint;
Shelter me, God,
And carry me close,
close to Your heart again.

(Inspired by Isaiah 40:11 ~ He tends His flock like a shepherd; He gathers the lambs in His arms and carries them close to His heart.)

The Eight Parts of Speech

2010-01-29T12:03:00.005-05:00

I came across this little ditty in a 1938 edition of "A New Self-Teaching Course in Practical English and Effective Speech" published by The Better-Speech Institute of America. Perhaps it will of some assistance to anyone who is grammatically challenged.

**********

All names of persons, places, and things
Are NOUNS, as Caesar, Rome, and kings.

PRONOUNS are used in place of nouns:
I think; she sings; they work; he frowns.

When the kind you wish to state,
Use an ADJECTIVE, as great.

But if of manner you would tell,
Use ADVERBS, such as slowly, well.
To find an adverb, this test try:
Ask, "How?" or "When?" or "Where?" or "Why?"

PREPOSITIONS show relation,
As with respect, or in our nation.

CONJUNCTIONS, as their name implies,
Are joining words; they are the ties
That bind together day and night,
Calm but cold, dull or bright.

Next we have VERBS, which tell
Of action, being, and state, as well.
To work, succeed, achieve, and curb --
Each one of these is called a verb.

The INTERJECTIONS show surprise,
As Oh! Alas! Ah me! How wise!
Thus briefly does this jingle state
The PARTS OF SPEECH, which total eight.

**********

The book goes on to state that "some authorities give a ninth part of speech, the article. A and an are called the indefinite articles, and the is known as the definite article. The words are, in reality, adjectives, and they will be so considered in this course."

When I Am Old

2010-01-24T15:21:00.002-05:00

When I am old, I will not wear a crinkly plastic bonnet to protect my bluepink hair from the ravages of wind and rain. Rather, I will set my respectable grey curls free to whip around my wrinkled face in utter abandonment and joy!

When I am old, I will not wear stockings rolled halfway up my calf and sensible brown shoes. Rather, I will set my toes free to romp through summer grass and wriggle in sun-kissed sand in utter abandonment and joy!

When I am old, I will not carry a handbag the size of Grand Central Station filled with half-used hankies, a magnifying mirror, and banishing cream. Rather, I will tuck my driver's license, a $20 bill, and Sassy Lassy lip balm in the back pocket of my jeans and leave my hands free to pick flowers and to clap in utter abandonment and joy!

When I am old, I will not keep the window blinds closed so that just a lonely sliver of light slips through to pierce the dusty darkness. Rather, I will hang sheer lacy curtains and pretty rainbow prisms so I can revel in the warmth and colors of the sun in utter abandonment and joy!

When I am old, I will not wear noisy bracelets that clink and clank, nor oversized brooches on steroids, nor embroidered belts with big buckles. Rather, I will adorn myself with the garland of grace and the simple beauty of a quiet and gentle spirit that reflects the glory of God in utter abandonment and joy!

When I am old, I will not look back wistfully on the days and years gone by nor will I regret that my time as a mortal is coming to an end. Rather, I will excitedly and eagerly look forward to the moment when I can finally set foot on that other, eternal shore, for it is then and it is there that I will break free from the bonds which have tied me, I will cast off the burdens that have weighed me down, and I will sing and dance in the house of the Lord forever ~ in utter abandonment and joy!

To Be Educated (by Carolyn Caines)

2010-01-18T11:56:00.002-05:00

If I learn my ABCs, can read 600 words per minute, and can write with perfect penmanship, but have not been shown how to communicate with the Designer of all language, I have not been educated.

If I can deliver an eloquent speech and persuade you with my stunning logic, but have not been instructed in God's wisdom, I have not been educated.

If I have read Shakespeare and John Locke and can discuss their writings with keen insight, but have not read the greatest of all books -- the Bible -- and have no knowledge of its personal importance, I have not been educated.

If I have memorized addition facts, multiplication tables, and chemical formulas, but have never been discliplined to hide God's word in my heart, I have not been educated.

If I can explain the law of gravity and Einstein's theory of relativity, but have never been instructed in the unchangeable laws of the One who orders our universe, I have not been educated.

If I can classify animals by their family, genus, and species, and can write a lengthy scientific paper that wins an award, but have not been introduced to the Maker's purpose for all creation, I have not been educated.

If I can recite the Gettysburg Address and the Preamble to the Constitution, but have not been informed of the hand of God in the history of our country, I have not been educated.

If I can play the piano, the violin, six other instruments, and can write music that moves men to tears, but have not been taught to listen to the Director of the universe and worship Him, I have not been educated.

If I can run cross-country races, star in basketball, and do 100 sit-ups without stopping, but have never been shown how to bend my spirit to do God's will, I have not been educated.

If I graduate with a perfect 4.0 and am accepted at the best university with a full scholarship, but have not been guided into a career of God's choosing for me, I have not been educated.

If I become a good citizen, voting at each election and fighting for what is moral and right, but have not been told of the sinfulness of man and his hopelessness without Christ, I have not been educated.

However, if one day I see the world as God sees it, and come to know Him, whom to know is life eternal, and glorify God by fulfilling His purpose for me, then I have been educated.

Spiritual Gunk and Junk

2010-01-10T15:31:00.002-05:00

I am constantly amazed at how the Holy Spirit enlightens us through the most ordinary experiences.

I took up residence in the dental chair one day, gripping my hands, squeezing my eyes, and enduring needle after needle of numbing solution, praying that God would get me through what was supposed to be a 45-minute, two-needle procedure that had turned into a 90-minute, six-needle ordeal.

Later, I began to ponder about how the cavities we humans need cleaned out and filled are not just physical ones. There are cavities that exist in our spirits that need the same kind of attention from the Holy Spirit as the dentist gives to the ones in our mouths.

The gunk and junk that finds its way into the healthy tooth, causing deterioration, decay, and death, is like the gunk and junk called sin that finds its way into our spirits with the same disastrous result if it is left to fester and not get cleaned out.

Like the dentist who cares for and cleans our teeth, the Holy Spirit cares for and cleans our spirits. Like the dentist who locates and drills out any decay he finds in our teeth, the Holy Spirit locates and draws out the decay He discovers in our spirits. And like the dentist who fills in the empty, waiting spaces with fresh cement, so also the Holy Spirit fills in the empty, waiting spaces with newness of life.

Both procedures happen only when we allow them to happen, and both procedures often cause pain. But the end result ~ the routing out of unhealthy matter, and its replacement with healthy matter ~ is well worth the price we have to pay.

It has been said that the health of the mouth affects the health of the entire body, and the same can be said of the health of the spirit ~ that it, also, affects the health of whole person.

So, don't forget to see the dentist regularly, and don't hinder the work of the Holy Spirit.

To Live and Die in Blue Jeans

2010-01-09T18:15:00.000-05:00

As I mailed out another sympathy card the other day, I got to thinking about my own future funeral, and the one thing that rolled around my brain was what I would want to be buried in (clothing-wise). Now, I know that in the long run, it matters nothing, but the question had its teeth in me and wouldn't let me go.

I've been to quite a few funerals with open caskets, and everyone was dressed in their Sunday finest. Truly, they looked beautiful and serene, and I suppose that living relatives desire their loved ones to look their best. Well, I'm going to inform my family now that when my day comes, they are to dress me in blue jeans.

Blue jeans are my favorite article of clothing. I have a few fancier dresses for all those proper occasions, but 75% of my wardrobe is made of denim. I have blue jean dresses, pants, capris, shorts, and even pocketbooks. I'm still on the lookout for a blue jean sofa, and I'd probably drive a blue jean Volkswagen Bug if it existed. Blue jeans are a way of life for me. They describe my personality in a way that stockings and high heels could never do.

So when I die, and the Lord welcomes me home, I will gladly and gratefully don the robe of His righteousness ~ but underneath, I just might be dancing in denim.