Notes from home

A Job for More Than One Person . . .

2011-11-14T07:16:00.000-08:00

What could be better than a good helper?

Raking leaves is a lot of work; it's a job for more than one person, if you can get someone else to help. There's the actual raking, and then moving the leaves to the curb or the compost pile, and of course, the jumping-in-and-reraking.

It's a good job for a grandpa and a grandson to share, with cookies and milk afterward, of course.

A Lovely Stay . . .

2011-11-05T09:41:00.000-07:00

     We had a delightful stay at The Mission Oak Inn, near Henry, Illinois this past week.The Inn is set in the middle of farm country, but nestled into an area where field and timber meet.
     The property includes a lake, complete with boats and fishing, as well as hiking trails, quiet docks and secluded places to sit and watch the day go by. A variety of birds visit -- everything from hawks to hummingbirds, and you can watch from The Bird Lovers Suite, or the dining room, or from a number of pretty places outside.
     Speaking of the dining room -- you won't go hungry! The breakfasts are inventive and delicious; dinners are available for a small extra fee, and well worth it.The Inn itself shows off the handiwork of owners Denny and Jan Reed; Denny is a craftsman who built much of the cabinetry and furniture himself, and it's lovely.
     Guests' comfort and wishes are anticipated -- everything from comfortable robes and blankets to fireplaces and whirlpool tubs in each guest room to cookies in the afternoon to go along with the cocoa, tea, and coffee thoughtfully provided. There are DVDs available, as well as a CD player and Dish TV. And if that isn't enough, there are antique shops, museums, and other attractions within a 30-minute drive.

If you're looking for a nearby get-away, this is one we'd recommend!

Under Construction

2011-11-02T05:41:00.000-07:00

You can't get here from there, right now.

The bridge by our house is gone, and in its place is rubble, rebar, and debris.

We're getting a crash course in construction, and aside from the house shaking occasionally, it's been kind of fun to watch.

Grace and Hope

2011-05-26T12:56:00.000-07:00

Tulips are done blooming here, now; and so are the forsythia and lilacs. In their place, Bells of Canterbury bloom, and sweet woodruff. Walking in the backyard is a fragrant adventure.

The tulips are done, but we took pictures. We wanted a record of where tulips were blooming, and where daffodils migrated to, so that next fall we might re-plant bulbs and fill in the spaces that have gone empty.

It’s an optimistic venture, one that assumes by the time we’ve enjoyed a summer full of picnics and lawn-mowing and gardening, we will still be in the mood to plant bulbs for next year, bulbs that will disappear into the dirt, under the snow, into the cold of January, with the hope that they will push up through the mud in March or April with color and cheer.

Sometimes by the time autumn arrives, we are so busy or tired or indifferent that we skip planting bulbs. We always regret it. Optimism seems fool-hardy, sometimes, but in the biting cold and deep snows of January, the optimism of bulb-planting is nothing less than grace and hope.

We have pictures.

What's Your Passion?

2011-05-03T09:09:00.000-07:00

What is your passion?

I’ve been thinking about that question for a long time, but Mary DeMuth’s guest post on Michael Hyatt’s blog this morning makes me think I need to come up with some answers.

Mary’s observations about why people hesitate to identify their passion resonate with me. At one time or another, one or all of them seem to have been true in my life. Fear and insecurity are powerful de-motivators, and they aren’t a good way to live.

So I’m setting them aside, and gathering up courage. If Mary’s prescription to Find Your Passion in Three Steps works, I’ll have my answer soon.

Will you help me? One of Mary’s suggestions is to ask your friends “What is my one thing?” Her idea is that our friends are “entirely insightful” about the things we are passionate about. What do you think my “one thing” is?

Another of Mary’s questions is about your three favorite movies, and the common thread among them. So here’s my question for you: what are your three favorite movies, and what’s the common thread among them?

What’s your passion?

After Easter . . .

2011-04-26T08:22:00.000-07:00

Easter Sunday is over, but the joy of it lightens up these drippy spring days.

It’s easy to look out the window, sigh, and wish for sunshine. It’s not so easy to remember that change takes time, and this year, spring is certainly taking its time getting here.

Yet, every morning, there is some new sign that spring is on the way. This morning, we had a bit of sunshine and blue sky – fleeting, to be sure, but bright and lovely, for just a few moments – enough to brighten the whole day, a promise of what is to come.

Good Friday, 2011

2011-04-22T08:24:00.001-07:00

O sacred Head, now wounded, with grief and shame weighed down,
Now scornfully surrounded with thorns, Thine only crown;
O sacred Head, what glory, what bliss till now was Thine!
Yet, though despised and gory, I joy to call Thee mine.

What Thou, my Lord, hast suffered, was all for sinners’ gain;
Mine, mine was the transgression, but Thine the deadly pain.
Lo, here I fall, my Savior! ’Tis I deserve Thy place;
Look on me with Thy favor, vouchsafe to me Thy grace.

Men mock and taunt and jeer Thee, Thou noble countenance,
Though mighty worlds shall fear Thee and flee before Thy glance.
How art thou pale with anguish, with sore abuse and scorn!
How doth Thy visage languish that once was bright as morn!

Now from Thy cheeks has vanished their color once so fair;
From Thy red lips is banished the splendor that was there.
Grim death, with cruel rigor, hath robbed Thee of Thy life;
Thus Thou hast lost Thy vigor, Thy strength in this sad strife.

My burden in Thy Passion, Lord, Thou hast borne for me,
For it was my transgression which brought this woe on Thee.
I cast me down before Thee, wrath were my rightful lot;
Have mercy, I implore Thee; Redeemer, spurn me not!

What language shall I borrow to thank Thee, dearest friend,
For this Thy dying sorrow, Thy pity without end?
O make me Thine forever, and should I fainting be,
Lord, let me never, never outlive my love to Thee.

 Bernard of Clairvaux

Lenten Reflection, April 21, 2011

2011-04-21T07:09:00.001-07:00

Forgive us, renew us, and lead us, so that we may delight in your will and walk in your ways, to the glory of your holy name.

Once we’ve been forgiven and renewed, we have choices to make. The question becomes “Where now, Lord?”

Asking God to lead us is an implicit acknowledgment of His Lordship over us. We are asking Him to show us His way, to lead us into the green pastures the Psalmist spoke of. We are also signing on to follow into the less pleasant places through which He might lead us.

By asking Him to lead us, we are signaling our willingness to follow Him, even if we don’t understand where we’re going, even if it’s taking a long time, even if we don’t particularly enjoy the journey.

We will follow wherever He leads us.

The end result of this is that we learn to delight in His will; we learn to walk in His ways, and He is glorified. That kind of delight is not dependent on our circumstances; it is dependent on our relationship with the One who leads us.

God forgives us; we can trust Him.

God renews us; we can rely on Him.

God leads us, and we can delight in Him.

Thanks be to God!

Lenten Reflection, April 20, 2011

2011-04-20T08:25:00.001-07:00

Forgive us, renew us, and lead us, so that we may delight in your will and walk in your ways, to the glory of your holy name.

The idea of renewal always seems to be popular in the church, perhaps because we recognize that we are always in need of it.

In this prayer of confession, asking God to renew us may mean something a little different from our popular ideas of renewal. This request for renewal is connected to our recognition of our own sin and failure. Does anything feel as uncomfortable as knowing we’ve failed?

Understanding the reality of our own sin and failure can leave us feeling completely undone. Most of us have good intentions, at least to begin with. We want to do what is right; we want to do what is good. Somehow, though, we don’t quite manage to do right consistently; our “goodness” is always lacking.

How utterly disheartening!

And when we are disheartened by our own sin and failures, the idea that God might renew us – might lift our spirits, encourage us, give us a fresh start – what a blessing that seems!

God’s renewal is a blessing, one of second chances and do-overs. Renewal is His pronouncement that He is still working in us. His forgiveness cleanses us, and His renewal gives us room to try again.

Renewal is yet another sign of His immeasurable grace and kindness toward us.

Lenten Reflection, April 19, 2011

2011-04-19T05:01:00.000-07:00

Forgive us, renew us, and lead us, so that we may delight in your will and walk in your ways, to the glory of your holy name.

Forgiveness is mercy.

When we ask God to forgive us, we’re asking Him to re-set our relationship. We’re seeking restoration; we’re looking for a way back to intimacy with Him. His forgiveness for our sin is a necessary part of that restoration.

Sin separates us from God, who is holy. His holiness is not just an idea; it’s a reality. Our sin has real-world, real-time consequences, even if they are not immediately apparent. Over time, though, we can see how life changes as a result of sin. Relationships fray and break; we do things we don’t mean to do, and we don’t do the things we know we should; death comes. Indeed, Scripture tells us “For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Romans 6:23).

Forgiveness interrupts the effects of those consequences, and eventually cancels them. In Christ, forgiveness overcomes even death.

No wonder we ask God for His forgiveness every time we pray.

Lenten Reflection, April 18, 2011

2011-04-18T19:14:00.000-07:00

For the sake of your Son, Jesus Christ, have mercy on us.

Mercy, for Jesus’s sake – this is what we are asking of God.

We can ask it because of what Jesus did for us – His willingness to become one of us, to take upon Himself the sin of the world, to die for us. Because of all that He did, we can ask for mercy.

Jesus did those things for us because we could not do them – would not do them – for ourselves, much less for anyone else. Jesus did those things for us because of His great love for us.

Jesus did those things for us because He is the very essence, the very nature, of love.

It is in the name of that love that we dare to ask for the mercy we do not in any way deserve.

Lenten Reflection, April 7, 2011

2011-04-07T07:13:00.000-07:00

Loving God with our whole hearts, and loving our neighbors as ourselves – how are those two actions connected?

One simple, seemingly obvious answer is that it is more difficult to love our neighbors if we don’t love God, first. It is when we are in relationship with Him that we learn how to love others. We have His example of loving us, and we learn from it, even as we respond to Him in love.

But what if loving our neighbors is also a way of helping us to learn to love God?

I think that may be a big part of it. Loving the person I can see and interact with provides valuable experience in how love actually behaves. I hear from Scripture (1 Corinthians 13) what love is – patient, kind, hopeful – and I put those qualities in practice as I actually try to love my neighbor.

I read in Scripture that “love does not rejoice at what is wrong, but rejoices in what is right,” and that description affects how I relate to those around me.

I see that “love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude,” and I try to adjust my actions accordingly as I deal with the people in my everyday life.

And all the time, this practicing of the quality of love is changing me, and teaching me at the same time, to love God.

Lenten Reflection, April 6, 2011

2011-04-06T07:34:00.000-07:00

. . . we have not loved our neighbors as ourselves.

How much do I love my own self? Let me count the ways.

I love myself enough to eat well, to exercise, to make sure I have a house to live in and clothes to wear. I love myself enough to seek out meaningful work, as well as opportunities to do things I enjoy, and to have fun. I love myself enough to take really good care of myself.

And how much do I love my neighbors? Do I love them that much?

If I apply Jesus’s definition of “neighbor” – the one He offered in the story of the Good Samaritan, in Luke 10:25-37 – I need to love the one who is in need as much as I love my own self.

Am I as willing to meet my neighbor’s needs as I am to meet my own? Can I meet their needs with what is left over from my own life?

Or does loving my neighbor mean giving up some of what I use to meet my own needs, in order to meet theirs?

I have not loved my neighbor as much as I love my own self . . .

Lenten Reflection, April 5, 2011

2011-04-05T06:40:00.000-07:00

Scripture offers us many ways to think of God: as a parent, as a king, as a friend, as a lover. We aren’t limited to just one way of thinking about our relationship with Him.

It’s interesting that each of those ways of thinking about God involves relationship: the relationship of a child to a parent, of a subject to a king, of one friend to another, or of two lovers learning to woo and love one another. No matter who we are, or where our lives have taken us, we can find a relationship model for our relationship with God.

Each of those relationships involves some kind of love, and not all of those kinds of love are expressed in the same ways. Some focus more on tenderness and care, some focus more on watchful concern for, or action on behalf of, the other, but all of them involve some kind of meaningful interaction with one another.

When we talk about loving God with our whole heart, we are talking about all these kinds of love. We are talking about how we offer our love to God, and how we receive love from Him. And all of these kinds of love require paying attention to the relationship involved.

To love God with our whole heart means being intentional in our relationship with Him. It means paying attention, being involved, staying alert to what is happening between us. It means risking our heart, believing that the reward of the relationship is worth the risk.

We have not loved you with our whole hearts . . .

Lenten Reflection, April 4, 2011

2011-04-04T06:24:00.000-07:00

We have not loved you with our whole heart; we have not loved our neighbors as ourselves.

What does it mean to love God with our whole heart?

Jesus asked us to do this. In fact, He identified this as the most important commandment of all.

He was talking with a group of people, including some of the Sadducees, about some of the finer points of the Law, when “ . . . one of the scribes came up and heard them disputing with one another, and seeing that he answered them well, asked him, "Which commandment is the most important of all?’ Jesus answered, "The most important is, 'Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. And you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.'” (Mark 12:28-30).

Even as we confess together that we have not loved God with our whole heart, I wonder: what would our lives look like, if we loved Him with our whole heart?

Lenten Reflection: April 2, 2011

2011-04-02T11:06:00.000-07:00

We have sinned against you in thought, word, and deed, by what we have done and by what we have left undone.

Sometimes we sin by what we do; sometimes we sin by what we don’t do. There are sins of commission, and sins of omission. Sometimes it seems as if, no matter which way we go, it’s wrong.

This confession reminds us that we can sin by not acting as well as by acting. We are used to thinking of sin as something we do, not as something we haven’t done. Yet, how many times have we neglected to do the things God asks of us? How many times have we overlooked a chance to show mercy to someone, or kindness? How often have we neglected to care for the hungry, the imprisoned, the naked? How often do we intend to do “the right thing” but then forget to do it?

Recognizing our sinfulness is not just a matter of tallying up what we’ve done wrong; it is also recognizing the ways we might have honored, or obeyed, or loved God, but didn’t.

Righteousness is not just about who we aren’t. It’s about who we are.

Lenten Reflection, March 17, 2011

2011-03-17T17:14:00.000-07:00

We have sinned against you in thought, word, and deed . . .

Our deeds reveal the best of us, and the worst of us, and everything in between.

Who hasn’t carried a burden of guilt over something we’ve done that we knew was wrong? Or realized later that we’ve done something we shouldn’t have done? Whether it was something serious or something relatively “small” we still have to contend with the guilt of sin, whether we understand and acknowledge the guilt, or not.

Confession is the prescribed antidote to those sins we’ve committed, but sometimes our guilt overshadows our willingness to confess our sins. Regular confession, done as part of the body of Christ, is a cleansing thing, and as necessary as any other kind of cleansing.

Our willingness to recognize and confess our sins reflects our desire to draw closer to God.

Lenten Reflection, March 16, 2011

2011-03-16T05:51:00.000-07:00

We’re all too familiar with the ways our words can be sinful. Sometimes it’s tempting to give up talking for Lent!
We can speak thoughtlessly, maliciously, foolishly – or we can use our words to heal, to comfort, to bless. The Apostle James observes rightly that, “From the same mouth come blessing and cursing” (James 3:10).
Perhaps that is why it is so important that we regularly confess when those words are sinful, that we hold ourselves accountable before God for those times when our words are less than they could be, less than they should be.
We have sinned against you in thought, word, and deed . . .
Words matter, because they give shape to what we think, and they are a blueprint to what we may do; because they themselves embody elements of both our thoughts and our deeds.
And yet, words have a place all their own, a place where they might become a blessing, or a curse.
We must thank God for the one, and confess the other.

Lenten Reflection, March 15, 2011

2011-03-15T05:56:00.000-07:00

How can what we think be sinful?
Thoughts are private and personal. No one can see them, or hear them.
Yet our confession of sin includes confessing that even what we’ve thought is sinful: We have sinned against you in thought, word, and deed . . .
Some thoughts might clearly be considered sin – lustful thoughts, murderous thoughts, greedy thoughts. It’s easy to understand why we need to confess them.
But what about other thoughts, the kind that might not be so easily classified as sinful?
Why do they matter?
They matter because sin is sin. Because what we think is the foundation of choices we make, and of what we do. Because being aware of what we are thinking is a spiritual discipline.
Sin is relentless. How easy it is, in an unguarded moment, to slip into thinking the wrong thoughts, indulging momentarily in a wrong attitude. Even our thoughts are vulnerable to sin.
And so we stay vigilant to avoid sin, and confess what we know to be true: we have sinned against you in thought . . .

Lenten Reflection, March 14, 2011

2011-03-14T07:24:00.000-07:00

We have sinned against you in thought, word, and deed . . .

Here it is, with no excuse: we have sinned against you, Lord.

We have sinned against others, too. It might seem easier to understand those sins as sins. We understand that things like gossip, or arguing, or lying are sinful. We get it that what we think or say or do might hurt others.

But sometimes we forget that those things offend God Himself, even if no one else is affected. The Psalmist reminds us that “Against you, you only, have I sinned and done what is evil in your sight, so that you may be justified in your words and blameless in your judgment” (Psalm 51:4, ESV).

We have sinned in what we think; we have sinned in what we say; we have sinned in what we do. It is our responsibility to recognize our sin, to acknowledge it without excuse, and to confess it to God, because in sinning against others, we have also sinned against God Himself.

With this confession, we acknowledge that sin permeates every aspect of our being: our thinking, our speech, our actions.

The good news is that “if we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness . . . “ (1 John 1:9, ESV).

Lenten Reflection, March 12, 2011

2011-03-12T14:00:00.000-08:00

Before we were married, my husband-to-be worked second shift in the computer center of a local bank. The computer center was located on the second floor, and of course, during second shift the bank was closed.
So when I had to deliver some papers to him one evening, I had to ring the doorbell of the side door to the bank, and wait for the guard, a gloomy man who clearly believed I’d come to disrupt his evening. He escorted me up to the computer center, where I delivered the papers in question to my beloved. I turned to leave, but the guard had also gone off on his rounds without waiting to escort me back out.
No problem! Or so I thought. I took off down the winding stone staircase to the first floor, thinking I’d let myself out. Until I got to the door leading from the stairwell to the vestibule. That door was locked.
I went back up the winding stone staircase to the top of the stairs, where I assumed I could just go back to the computer center and wait. The door at the top of the stairs was locked, too.
I was stuck in the staircase. I could not free myself, but had to wait for the guard to come by again – which took a long, long time. And since this was long before cell phones, there was nothing I could do but wait.
Needless to say, the guard was not impressed with my actions when he found me.
Sometimes our sins get us into situations we can’t easily get out of – we cannot free ourselves. We are stuck in a situation of our own making, with no way out.
It’s not a comfortable thing, to realize you can’t yourself out of a difficult situation.
It’s when you really begin to understand that you’re stuck – in bondage – that you begin to hope for help.

Lenten Reflection, March 11, 2011

2011-03-11T04:50:00.000-08:00

It is because we trust in God’s mercy – because we know Him to be merciful – that we have courage to confess our sin.
And while it is necessary and appropriate for us to confess our sin to God individually, it is also necessary and appropriate for us to confess our sin to Him as a congregation when we gather together.
We confess that we are in bondage to sin and cannot free ourselves.
We confess – all of us together – acknowledge that we have sinned, and more than that, we can’t seem to stop ourselves.
We need your help, Lord.
As a group of believers, we are bound together by mutual need; we cannot consistently overcome sin by ourselves. Confessing that before one another is a good first step – we recognize the problem, and we recognize that, even if we try, we can’t quite fix it.
It’s not just me, and it’s not just you. It’s both of us – all of us – together. And one way or another, any problems we encounter can be traced back to our tendencies to sin.

Lenten Reflection, March 10, 2011

2011-03-10T06:09:00.000-08:00

Almost every Sunday morning, we begin worship with a Prayer of Confession. It’s a way of acknowledging and taking responsibility for the sin in our lives. For some people, it’s mindless repetition, a rote prayer that doesn’t mean much. For others, mindful repetition deepens its meaning.
The season of Lent is a season of choices. We can practice self-denial by “giving something up” for Lent, or not. We can spend these weeks before Easter focusing on repentance for sin, or not. We can observe a season of quiet, mourning our sin and considering God’s provision for sin, or not.
I’m thinking that observing the season the same way we begin worship each Sunday morning is a good way to begin. This year for Lent, I want to spend some time reflecting on the Prayer of Confession from The Brief Order for Confession and Forgiveness on Page 56 of what is affectionately known as “The Green Book,” that is, The Lutheran Book of Worship from 1978. It goes like this:

Pastor: Most Merciful God,
People: We confess that we are in bondage to sin and cannot free ourselves. We have sinned against you in thought, word, and deed, by what we have done and by what we have left undone. We have not loved you with our whole heart; we have not loved our neighbors as ourselves. For the sake of your Son, Jesus Christ, have mercy on us. Forgive us, renew us, and lead us, so that we may delight in your will and walk in your ways, to the glory of your holy name. Amen.

That phrase “Most Merciful God” is a good way to begin thinking about Lent. Even in a quiet, reflective season of mourning, God is most merciful. Scripture reminds us that His mercies are “new every morning,” (Lamentations 3:23).
As we begin to reflect on the presence of sin in our lives, God’s mercy is a balm for our mourning.

Ash Wednesday

2011-03-09T18:06:00.001-08:00

When I was little, we lived in a house with a coal furnace. One of the household chores my dad took care of in the winter was to take the ashes and what we called the “clinkers” – that part of the coal that was left after burning – out.
The ash was messy. Dad always tried to contain it in something, but a fine film of ash always seemed to sift out to cover whatever he walked by, despite his best effort.
Ash is like that, and on this Ash Wednesday I’m thinking of how like ash sin is.
Despite our best effort to contain it, sin has a way of leaving a fine film over whatever we pass. If it’s left untouched, that fine film will become thicker, of course, and eventually it will cover over whatever it has settled on.
That’s the problem with sin: left untouched, eventually it will cover over whatever it has settled on – or in – obliterating the original finish.
Sin is often subtle, and might go unnoticed at first. During Lent, our task is to reflect on that fine film of sin in our lives, and what it might eventually obliterate if we allow it to go untouched.
Lent is about paying attention, and noticing what needs to be cleaned up.

Testing Season

2011-03-07T06:21:00.000-08:00

It’s testing season for a lot of kids this week. They will be sitting down to tests designed to see if they are learning the things they are supposed to be learning. It made me wonder what we would do, as adults, if our testing came in pen-and-paper form.
It doesn’t, of course.
Our tests come in the form of grouchy check-out ladies, or drivers who tail-gate, or banks that mess up our deposit. Our tests come in the form of temptations: to cheat somehow, to stretch the limits of honesty, to share that bit of news that shouldn’t really be shared. Our tests come in the form of difficult situations that never seem to change or improve, that require endurance and faith and grit.
Some schools are asking students to wear red shirts to school this week as a symbol that they are “ready” for their tests. Parents are reminded to be sure their kids get plenty of rest and nutritious breakfasts so they can do their best work on the tests. No doubt about it – these kids will know they are being tested.
But for us, tests seem more like everyday life. We don’t always recognize a test for what it is, and we don’t always learn anything from the results.
What if we did?

On Its Way . . .

2011-03-04T15:13:00.001-08:00

The air was moist and warm this morning when we opened the front door. We opened up the kitchen window and enjoyed that indoor-outdoor feeling. After breakfast we went on a walking tour of our soggy backyard and found snowdrops scattered in the grass. Daffodils are peaking through, and tiny sweet woodruff is pushing up through the pine needles. The coral bells and hellebore are awake, and forsythia buds are swelling.
Not only that – we can hear a cardinal in the neighborhood, and occasionally a robin or two.
Spring may not quite be here, but it’s definitely on its way.

The Mix

2011-03-03T17:51:00.000-08:00

Where does time go?
I think it was Jennifer Rothschild who observed on Facebook that she could either live her life, or write about it.
I think I understand what she was getting at!
Since January, I've helped care for a sick family member, suffered through my own extended viral adventure, and worked diligently on a basement project. The family member is well again; I still have a cough but I think I'll live; the basement is looking better (although there are still lots of basement projects to finish.)
Now it's time to try to put writing back in the mix.

Catalog Illustration -- Me?

2011-01-07T06:36:00.000-08:00

Yesterday's mail brought the first gardening catalog of the season, and it's a gorgeous piece of propaganda. John Scheepers does a beautiful job -- color photographs of ripe tomatoes, delicate poppies, and assorted other flowers and vegetables on the cover, with delicate line drawings and colored illustrations inside. Suddenly, I want to order seeds from every page!
But I can't -- a very shady yard and a very busy schedule mean container gardening at most, and that makes me a little sad. It also makes me look at the back yard with an eye to finally cutting down that big tree that is dying -- that would give us a lot more sunny area for real gardening.
The other thing this catalog made me think about is this: what if God published a Fruits of the Holy Spirit catalog? One with lovely color images of love, joy, peace, and all those other fruits of the Spirit? What if they were illustrated so beautifully that our mouths began to water just looking at them?
Then I realized -- we ourselves are the catalog! We are supposed to be living in such a way that the fruits of the Spirit are illustrated beautifully in our lives. We're the image that is supposed to make mouths water, and to make people hunger for that fruit.
So now I'm thinking of what I need to garden in my own life -- maybe mulch a little joy, or cultivate a little gentleness.
I want to look good in the catalog.

Let It Snow, Let It Snow, Let It Snow . . . ?

2011-01-04T05:33:00.000-08:00

Last year, I got suspicious: after Christmas, we replaced our Christmas decorations with snowmen. Snowmen are appropriate in this part of the country for January, and they make a nice decorative bridge from Christmas to Valentine's Day.
Once the snowmen were sitting around, it started to snow. Outside. A lot.

Was there a connection? I began to think so.
I noticed that when I put some of the snowmen away, back in their box in a dark part of the house, it quit snowing so much. Suspicious. Just to test my theory, I got the snowmen back out. It snowed.
This year, we've already had a lot of snow, even without snowmen sitting around. I'm getting ready to put all our Christmas decorations away, and I'm wondering if it's dangerous to free the snowmen from their box on a back shelf.

Will we get more snow? Will it stay cold? Is it the snowmen's fault?

Stay tuned.

Now Thank We All Our God . . .

2010-11-28T17:00:00.001-08:00

Thanksgiving brings new things to be thankful for.
A house filled with love and laughter is something to be thankful for, and so is a house filled with children. Such a house might get cluttered, and you might wonder how the cranberry sauce got on the ceiling -- but really, does anyone mind as long as everyone is having a good time?
We have enough and then some -- leftovers to take home, and leftovers to eat til you don't want to see turkey until next Thanksgiving.
We have room for everyone who wants to come -- warm, dry rooms with chairs to sit on, and places to visit, or wash up, and plenty of room to cook and clean up afterwards.
We have freedom to thank God for the blessings He's given us.
We have abundant life, just like He promised.
Thanks be to God.

Forty-seven Years . . .

2010-11-22T06:19:00.001-08:00

Rain beat down steadily into the grey afternoon, and the windshield wipers on my dad's car hardly kept up. He was quiet, and the radio was on as he maneuvered around other cars, other parents waiting for their kids to come out of school.
The announcement had come while I was in science class, trying to wrap my mind around the intricacies of the periodic table. “I am sorry to tell you that President Kennedy has died in Dallas. Vice-President Johnson will take the oath of office in just a few minutes. That is all we know at this time,” droned our principal over the school loudspeakers.
Our class was quiet, and so was our teacher. A kind, absent-minded man, he was at a loss for words. He did not know how to explain what had just happened; he struggled to understand it himself.
The remaining 90 minutes of school passed quietly; no more work was done. We simply sat in our classes, murmuring quietly, wondering what would happen next.
The grey skies, the rain, the quiet -- it was as if we had entered a period of mourning that would not lift for a long time. There would be more assassinations, more upheaval, more tumult to come. Change that had been accumulating slowly seemed to accelerate, and afterwards, time would seem to be marked by that day, the day everything seemed to change.
But just then, getting into my dad's car where he was waiting for me, it seemed as if I had reached sanctuary. He was sad, too, and quiet. He could tell me what would happen next, how our country had provided for such dire circumstances. He could assure me that things would be OK.
He just couldn't tell me why someone would want to assassinate the President.

Birth, or Not?

2010-11-18T10:57:00.000-08:00

I've been thinking about one of the remarkable things Jesus said during what we sometimes call the Passion. As He was being nailed to the cross, He said, "Father, forgive them; they don't know what they're doing."
I've thought about all the things we don't know we are doing that might hurt or offend God, especially since I read about the blog of two Minneapolis parents-to-be. Birth or Not is the name of the blog, and readers are invited to vote for the couple to abort their baby, or not.
Of course the possibility exists that this is a prank, or a sham of some kind.
But what if it's real, and they mean what they say? The deadline for abortion in their state is December 9, so they will close voting two days before. If the vote is in favor of abortion, they say they will have the abortion of the baby they call “Wiggles.”
They don't know what they're doing.
We live in a callous world, where many of us don't value life very much, if at all. We don't see it for the gift it is. We don't see. We don't know what we're doing.
Right now the vote count favors giving birth. Life.
But scrolling through the comments is a sad experience. There are many hateful, hurtful comments on both sides of the issue, and sadly, some of them come from people who claim to be Christian.
I don't think this is a time for hateful, hurtful comments. It's a time for Christians to allow God to work through us in Jesus's Name. It's a time for us to reflect His passion for life, His kindness and grace toward those who sin. And it's time for several other things, too: voting for life? Of course. Prayer, for sure, for this child, for his parents, and for all those who hear of this “election.”
And, most of all, for compassion.
Because, just like all the rest of us who are sinners, they don't know what they're doing.

Time to Rest

2010-11-16T09:36:00.001-08:00

Autumn is shuffling around in dusty slippers. Each day is shorter than the one before, as if her eyelids droop, as if she is too tired even to smile much. Summer's bright colors have fallen away, leaving behind only that which has faded and wrinkled.
How, then, is each day so glorious? Harvest is over; a season of rest settles over all, yet with such a sense of satisfaction -- of thanksgiving, even -- that who can see it without smiling?

Prescription for Irritation

2010-11-11T16:57:00.000-08:00

OK, is it just me, or are the drug ads getting even more weird than before?
Print ads are bad enough -- one glossy page of promises, followed by two pages of small print detailing the disclaimers and warnings of dire things that might happen if you use that particular drug.
It's the television/radio ads that are a little freaky, though.
Drug ads always show attractive people with some kind of difficulty that the advertised drug will help them with. We follow the mini-drama as the patient moves from problem to solution -- but then comes the rapid, robotic list of “do not use” and “this may cause” warnings. By the end of the warnings, I'm shocked that the patient hasn't dropped dead, at least from fright if not from the side effects of the advertised drug.
The thing I find particularly irksome is that these ads add to the cost of the drugs. How much of the cost of a prescription can be attributed to prime-time placement of an advertisement, or to running an ad over and over and over again until little children can sing the jingle or ask “Mommy, what does erectile dysfunction mean?”
The ads are meant to make patients ask their doctors if they need a particular drug -- a form of self-diagnosis. The demand by patients for a specific drug is meant to make doctors more willing to prescribe that particular drug. And everyone is happy.
Except for patients who can't afford prescriptions whose cost is inflated by incessant advertising, and of course, those patients who suffer or succumb to the side effects of a particular drug they didn't need but took because an advertisement convinced them they might need it.
Some things should be strictly between a patient and her doctor. Which prescription drugs a patient should use might be one of those things.

Veteran's Day, 2010: Thank You for Your Service . . .

2010-11-10T06:19:00.001-08:00

Tomorrow is Veteran's Day, a day to recognize and honor the sacrifices of those who have taken on the responsiblity of serving in our Armed Forces.
It is not possible for us to understand fully what it means to leave civilian life behind, to exchange everyday life for the everyday risks our soldiers, sailors, and Marines face. How do we express our appreciation for what they do, when we don't always understand what they do, or how they do it?
We try. We'll put on parades; we'll wave the flag; we'll talk about sacrifice and duty. We'll do our best to let our veterans know we recognize what they've done, what they've given.
But maybe the best way to express our appreciation is to do it personally: do you know a veteran?
Just tell him or her: We appreciate your service to our country. Thank you.
It's that simple.

Creative Sanity: Intention

2010-11-05T14:20:00.000-07:00

Here's a post from one of my favorite bloggers: I love what she says about how a mom sets a tone in her home. I think she's right -- moms are instrumental in creating the "climate and weather" in our homes!

Creative Sanity: Intention

Getting Ready . . .

2010-11-05T11:23:00.000-07:00

Are you beginning to plan for holiday dinners and parties?
At our house, that means making sure the good dishes are ready to use -- clean and accessible. But the good dishes aren't just for everyday use. It's fun to surprise your family, and use them on a more everyday basis.
Of course, that means something might be broken, but it's worth it to see the look on your family's faces when they realize you did something so special just for them.
And it gives them a chance to practice their best manners.
Read more about good dishes and other graces in this post from Blissfully Domestic.

Plate-Spinning in November

2010-11-04T06:52:00.000-07:00

It's early November, and our family calendar for the next two months is already crammed and jammed. Making time to fit in all the things that we need and want to do is a complicated juggling act something like the plate spinners who used to appear on The Ed Sullivan Show.
It's another exercise in figuring out what is important and what is merely urgent, as well as a good reminder that we cannot do everything or be everywhere, no matter how much we might want to. Only God can do that, and it's pretty clear I'm not God.
So, at our house, early November is weigh-and-measure season. We're trying to arrange our schedules so we can include what's important, and leave some time for slowing down and enjoying this season of Thanksgiving and celebration.
Because if we don't have time for that, the rest of it won't mean much anyway.

Ben Had It Right . . .

2010-11-03T15:34:00.000-07:00

Thought for today, courtesy of Jennifer Rothschild's Facebook post:

Democracy is two wolves and a lamb voting on what to have for lunch. Liberty is a well-armed lamb contesting the vote! -- Ben Franklin

Getting Ready for Thanksgiving

2010-11-02T05:55:00.000-07:00

November is here, the harvest is almost done, and it's time to begin thinking about our Thanksgiving celebration.
Before you begin planning the menu and cleaning the house, make some time to think about all the things you have to be thankful for: It Is A Good Thing To Give Thanks.

A Moving Experience . . .

2010-10-30T12:12:00.001-07:00

It's October, and you know what that means, don't you?
It's time to move the furniture.
It might start out as something we do to get at the baseboards, but pretty soon moving furniture takes on a life of its own. Wouldn't this chest work better in the basement? Of course, that means the desk down there will need to go out to the garage, and the bed should be moved to the other side of the room. And we haven't even started on the main floor of the house yet.
Which doesn't impress the pastor who lives here. He may not actually utter un-pastorly things, but I'm pretty sure he's thinking them.
Which is why this week-end, when daughter #4 was helping me clean the basement, and we realized we needed the chest from the garage down in the basement, she looked at me and smiled. “Just let me handle dad,” she said.
And she did.

After the Storm

2010-10-27T08:15:00.000-07:00

I love the way the air is so clear after a storm!
Yesterday the trees in our backyard were creaking and swaying in the wind; today a light breeze is ruffling the leaves, and sunlight is dancing through them, making their gold and red and orange glow.
We got through the storm with very little damage -- nothing more than some branches scattered on the roof and driveway -- but others suffered real harm. Trees were uprooted in a small community near here, and just one state away roofs were blown off and trucks blown over.
Today, though, the air is clear and lovely.
I don't like arguments or conflict. When the storm blows through, though, and the air is finally clear, my hope is that left behind, there is nothing worse than branches scattered around.

It's Always the Season for Real Change . . .

2010-10-26T09:22:00.000-07:00

Wanted to take a photograph of a new “political” yard sign we spotted in a local front yard, but it's already been taken down. Here's what it said:

JESUS . . . for REAL CHANGE!

Rain, Rain . . .

2010-10-23T08:48:00.001-07:00

We woke up to a grey morning; by the time breakfast was over rain was tapping against the windows, and thunder rumbled in the far-off.
Yesterday morning was one of those sunny autumn days when golden light seemed to come from within the trees, so this morning seems even more grey by comparison, but cozy, too. It's a good day to curl up with a favorite book, or make a pot of soup.
What do you do on a rainy day?

Tick, Tock, Tick . . .

2010-10-21T06:59:00.000-07:00

Time is a trickster.
It stretches; it shrinks; it evaporates.
And all time really ever does is help us keep track of where we are in this little slice of eternity.
Our bodies age, but our souls mature -- or not. The difference is important.
Fifteen years is long enough for a couple to grow into one another, to find ways to affirm on a daily basis the vows they made to one another about having, holding, and keeping unto one another, but not so long that every adventure has been exhausted.
Eighteen years is long enough for a child to gain both age and maturity, to become responsible and reliable as well as full of joy and purpose, but not so long that youthful exuberance is all used up.
Seventy-seven years is long enough to have gained perspective on what matters most, but not so long that there is no more to learn.
What better use of time, than to gain eternity?

Getting Ready for Thanksgiving . . .

2010-10-18T14:35:00.001-07:00

The holidays are coming. Christmas, of course, but first -- Thanksgiving.
Each week the temperature steps down a few more degrees. More leaves fall, and each day has a little less daylight than the day before. We've had robins and cardinals at the holly-berry pantry under our living room windows, and the back-yard squirrel family keeps hauling acorns away to their winter hiding places.
We were out with one of the four-year-olds the other night. She was excited to see the moon and the stars. She thought it was funny that God would want night lights.
Sometimes I wonder how much I allow to pass by without notice. Every season, every day offers testimony to God's care and faithfulness. I've seen autumn before, so I don't watch or listen to experience what is unique to this autumn.
I want to have eyes to see and ears to hear what God is doing all around me; I want to pay attention; I want to notice Him at work in His creation. For praise and thanksgiving to be genuine and fresh, I need to be aware of what it is I am praising and thanking God for.
I'm starting to get ready for Thanksgiving and all the rest of the holiday season, and I'm starting by paying attention.

Please Pass the Popcorn

2010-10-16T12:53:00.000-07:00

We actually went to a movie this week.
We talk about going to a movie fairly often. We discuss the movies we'd like to see, and when we might go. We talk about the price of popcorn and the pleasures of a plush seat in a dark corner of the theater. We promise ourselves that we're going to go see a movie -- soon.
But this week we actually did it. We went to see Secretariat.
It was worth the wait.
If you like horses, or underdogs, this is your movie. You might be familiar with the story, but that's not quite the same as seeing a version of it play out on-screen.
For one thing, the cinematography is lovely -- one of my favorite scenes (besides the horse scenes, or the race scenes, or the 1960s scenes) is the one of Kentucky Derby Day and the ladies' hats. It's not a perspective you see often, and it was wonderful! But there are so many lovely scenes in this movie, so many exciting, edge-of-the-seat-even-though-you-know-how-it-turns-out scenes, that you might miss it.
The characters are appealing, and the acting is great -- Diane Lane and John Malkovich are fun to watch. And the beginning of the movie moved my heart; I'm not sure I've ever seen a better opening scene.
This is one of those movies we all say we wish they'd make -- great story, good acting, no profanity, sex, or violence -- and if we want moviemakers to make more of this kind of movie, we need to support them when they do.
So, if you're looking for a good movie for the whole family, go see Secretariat.
And please, have some popcorn for me.

Kindling a Love for Reading

2010-10-11T16:41:00.000-07:00

I'd been thinking about getting an e-reader.
I went back and forth pn the “can I adjust to a 'book' that isn't made of paper and ink?” question. Was the tactile experience part of the pleasure of reading? And if so, how much?
Would I miss thumbing through actual pages? Flipping through a book, back and forth, comparing passages? Or would an e-reader simplify my reading experience?
Most importantly, could I still read the end of the book first?
Those questions weren't the only issues I struggled with: I felt a little bewildered by all the e-reading options. Should I just download a reader on my laptop? I'd checked out the Nook -- every time I walked into Barnes and Noble, someone offered to show me everything I needed to know about it. And I'd always been satisfied with everything Sony; maybe their e-reader was the way to go.
Or I could just succumb to the temptation of the Apple and get an Ipad -- as if money were no object.
Speaking of money, would I spend even more money on books if they were only a click away in the Kindle store? Could I exercise discretion and judgment when book-shelf space wasn't a consideration?
My family saved me the trouble of making a decision. For my birthday this year, they all went together and gave me a Kindle.
Initially, the learning curve isn't too steep, although I know there are features on my Kindle I haven't figured out yet.
And I'm liking it. I'm liking it a lot.
With its pebbled leather cover (complete with its own light!), reading is still somewhat tactile, although there are no pages to turn. Late at night, though, when I'm tired, I still forget to hit the page-turning button, and reach up to turn a (non-existent) page.
The Kindle fits into a purse in a way most hard-back books won't. And it keeps track of where I am in a book. It offers variety, convenience, and fun in a very small, very portable package.
There might be a few drawbacks -- it seems as if it will be harder to share a book with someone. I still haven't figured out how to navigate quickly from one part of a book to another. Illustrations and photographs aren't quite as crisp as in a print book. Some books don't seem to be available through Kindle, although perhaps I just haven't found them yet.
And perhaps worst of all, there aren't too many children's books available in Kindle editions.
But overall, I like this new reading experience. I don't think e-readers will replace paper-and-ink books. I think they will just give us more options. And who could argue with that?
So now I'm curious . . . have you tried a Kindle, or another e-reader? What do you think? Are you using it a lot, and enjoying it, or is it sitting quietly by your bedside? And what are you reading?
I'd love to know.

Chocolate Chip? Peanut Butter? Sugar?

2010-10-09T12:49:00.000-07:00

Today is a perfect example of Indian summer -- warm sunshine splashes over trees wearing bright reds and golds. But later on next week, there's rain in the forecast, with somewhat cooler temperatures. I know what that means: baking cookies!
If you'd like to read more about this fall ritual around our house, check out my article, Baking Cookies, on the Hearts at Home website.
Just keep in mind, it will read better if you have a warm cookie in your hand, and a glass of cold milk nearby.

Hello, again . . .

2010-10-04T18:30:00.000-07:00

So, what do I say after such a long silence?
“Let me re-introduce myself,” maybe?
Or should I just explain why I haven't checked in for such a long time?
It's been such a year!
Weddings. Babies. Graduations. Holidays, busy days, ordinary time. A part-time job.
Moving home, changing congregations. Facebook and Twitter -- meeting old friends and making new ones.
And always, sorting through the basement -- the never-ending story of my life.
Somehow, every time I thought of blogging, I set the thought aside.
Isn't that the way? Life rushes on and we get distracted; sometimes even important things are set aside on the sidelines.
Eventually, though, we miss the things that matter.
Which brings me back . . . here.
Hello again.
Let's get re-acquainted.

RainSongs and Birthdays

2009-08-20T06:01:00.000-07:00

I woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of rain.
Nothing new about that this summer.
I don't remember a season with so many quiet, gentle rains, though.
Most of the time we get storms blowing through with driving rain, rain that tap-dances all over the roof and into the ground: noisy, harsh, rhythmic. We had that kind of rain yesterday afternoon, and the creek came up in minutes.
But this spring and summer we've had a lot of quiet showers, gentle rain that simply taps against the roof shyly, as if not sure it's welcome.
I sleep with the bedroom window open, so when it began to rain I heard it first as a whispering in the leaves, then a little tapping in the mulch on the path. It woke me up just enough to listen for a few minutes, and I was struck by the layering of sound, the musicality of it. Locusts droned over the rain, thunder grumbled now and then, and an occasional car went by on the street, adding its sound to the whole. Every now and then the rain would come a little more intensely, then diminish again.
It was like a lullaby, just for me, and like anyone listening to a lovely lullaby, I went back to sleep.

********

Today would have been my mother-in-law's birthday.
When I first knew her, it seemed to be a non-event. She didn't make a fuss about it, and neither did anyone else. She got cards and good wishes, but as far as I know, not much else by way of celebration.
Maybe that's why I remember the year we surprised her with a birthday cake. She had a hard time believing it, and I think she was both pleased and a little embarrassed. After that, I think we celebrated her birthdays regularly, and her response each year was a little less embarrassment and a little more pleasure at being remembered.
All of which is to say, celebrations are fun, and worthwhile. Even if what we celebrate is not a particularly big deal, it's good to fold joy into each day, and a celebration of one kind or another is a fine way to do that.

Weddings and Flowers and Joy

2009-08-19T19:29:00.000-07:00

We've been working on wedding flowers for DD#4. Planning flowers and music are two of the loveliest parts of imagining a wedding, and this one is no exception. Whatever else they are, weddings are fundamentally an opportunity to express our deepest longings for beauty and stability, for warmth and love. While our expressions of those things may differ, I am convinced those longings are the same for every family that plans a wedding.

While I can't go into much detail yet about what kinds of flowers and music DD#4 will have at her wedding, thinking about her flower choices made me think about flowers I love. This afternoon I was thinking about roses nestled into evergreen sprays. I've used rose and evergreen arrangements often during holiday seasons, but I also like rose and boxwood in the summer. There's something about dressing the roses in a collar of greenery that enhances the color, texture, and fragrance of both elements.

We had blue asters at our wedding, and I still remember their delicate color with joy. My sister and I mixed up our bouquets -- she tried to tell me I was carrying her maid-of-honor bouquet -- but I loved the colors in it, and insisted it was mine. She was right, though, and ended up carrying the bridal bouquet. Fortunately I still got the groom despite the bouquet mix-up.
What are your favorite flowers? and how do you arrange them?

Keeping On . . .

2009-08-13T05:31:00.000-07:00

Summer offers so many pleasures. Ball games in the front yard, picnics in the back. But summer won't last indefinitely. Days are shorter now, just a bit, and here and there a leaf or two has turned. Summer is still clearly in charge, but it isn't hard to imagine the cooler days that are coming soon.
This has been a summer of housework and homework for me. Among other things, we're cleaning out the garage -- who knew cleaning out a garage could become a career choice? And I've been in school, stitching together all the educational pieces I've collected over the years. By next May I'll have a degree to show for it. Stir in a family wedding, new babies, and assorted other changes, and it's been a busy time.
There is a lot of satisfaction in finishing things, putting some kind of order where before there wasn't much. We don't always get to do a lot of that. Much of my life I've been a mom, and that is not a job where you see too many immediate results.
But this summer has been a good reminder that most finishings represent a lot of little steps, a lot of little things, faithfully done. I think they represent the endurance Paul writes about in Romans, when he talks about what difficulties accomplish in us. Sometimes our difficulties seem small or insignificant, and we don't want to make too much of them, but still they have a way of tripping us up. And yet, if we hold onto hope, if we persevere, our character is formed by the things that seem, at least for a season, difficult.
We just have to keep on keeping on, doing what we are supposed to do, doing what we are called to do, doing the next right thing.

How To Be Really Rich

2009-07-25T19:37:00.000-07:00

Tonight there's a tiny slice of moon, and locusts droning, and a cool breeze. Lightning bugs, the fragrance of someone's newly mown grass, phone calls and visits from people I love.
Babies and toddlers exploring the world. Five-year olds, excited about starting school, and high-schoolers excited about finishing up yet one more stage of their education. Eight-year olds excited about ball games and swimming; and eleven-year olds poised at the edge of childhood. Grandmothers excited about seeing the newest baby in the family, and a brother who's just become a grandfather for the first time. Weddings and other adventures. Love everywhere I look.
Fresh tomatoes, fresh melons, fresh sweetcorn.
All kinds of good music: Beach Boys. Vivaldi. Brooks and Dunne. Corelli. Thelonius Monk. Trisha Yearwood. Ella, Tony, and Frank. Bach.
Tiny, lacy ferns embroider the shady corners of our garden, and yellow self-seeded snapdragons bring a hint of sunshine to the front of the flower border. The hostas are starting to bloom, purple and white stalks of delicate flowers.
Good books: My Life in France, by Julia Child. Velvet Elvis by Rob Bell. The Good Book itself.
And tomorrow's Sunday, with worship, and good singing, friends and fellowship.
It really doesn't take all that much to be rich, and yet, we are rich beyond measure in these simple things.

A Controversial Issue . . .

2009-07-13T20:09:00.000-07:00

Some issues are like the tar-baby Bre'r Rabbit got tangled up with, and I think nationalizing health care is one of them.
On one hand, it's clear that a lot of people are in trouble when it comes to paying for medical care. I heard one commentator reflecting that we already ration health care based on what people can pay. I think there is some truth in that.
On the other hand, I am opposed to our government becoming involved in health care. They can't help but drive the federal budget deficit higher, which will encourage the move toward health care rationing -- and whose care will be rationed? According to the President's speeches and comments, instead of being able to decide for ourselves what to do when extreme or unusual or expensive care is needed, a board or other appointed group will be responsible for deciding if we are worth treating. For those who are elderly, or have chronic illnesses or unusual conditions, this is not good news! Additionally it is an invasion of privacy to invite the government to evaluate health care records for any reason.
These possibilities are a huge loss of freedom and liberty, and cannot be tolerated by a free people.
Health care rationing seems to be a reality in other places where nationalized health care is in place. It may not apply to every individual who seeks health care, but for those with chronic illnesses, or health issues that are difficult to manage, how do you make decisions about who gets expensive resources? Who makes those decisions, and what are the criteria?
For an interesting discussion about this issue, check out this website. Gunner Hawkins is a baby boy with cystic fibrosis. Because his illness was discovered early and managed aggressively, he is doing well right now. Sadly, though, his life expectancy is only about 37 years, but only because he lives in the United States, where his parents have private health insurance and are able to find doctors who will treat his illness aggressively. They have investigated, though, and found out that in countries where nationalized health care is the norm, the life expectancy of people with CF is ten years less due to less aggressive treatment and scarcer resources.
It is true that even in this country, a lack of insurance or good care might cause someone with CF to have a shorter life expectancy, but the opportunity for better care is here for people with the energy and resourcefulness to find it.
Liberty and freedom come with an obligation to take responsibility for one's own self, and in some circumstances, for one's neighbor as well. If we do that on an individual basis, it is less likely that we need to invite government into the situation. Government does many many things well, but would managing everyone's health care be one of them? Or would we find ourselves being lectured to as if we were children? Would we find that a bureaucrat is making decisions about our health care based on charts, records, and whim? Or worse yet, his departmental budget constraints?
It is true that health care is expensive and currently can be hard for some people to obtain. Let's find private-sector and/or charitable answers to this problem, and not enact an intrusive, expensive government solution that will cost us far more than money.

Summer Fun, with Rain . . .

2009-07-07T13:06:00.000-07:00

It's been such a rainy summer I've been watching out the corner of my eye for arks.
Still, there's been plenty of sunshine for some summer fun: cook-outs, gardening, and Shakespeare-under-the-stars. And rainy days are good for cleaning out basements, closets, or going through family photograph albums -- or in my cases, boxes full of loose photographs.
So who's complaining?

I'm Tired Just Thinking About It . . .

2009-07-07T08:05:00.000-07:00

Even though summer is supposed to be a more relaxed season, for moms some things in her job description are constant.
Job description, you ask? Yes -- check out all the things a mom needs to know and be here, in my column Help Wanted: The Job Interview for Moms on the Hearts at Home website.

Let's Play . . .

2009-06-10T17:23:00.000-07:00

Do you like to play?
We expect our kids to play in the summer, but what about us grown-ups?
If you're a mom, feeling a little overwhelmed at having the kids home for summer, maybe you need to let yourself play a little more.
Read more about it in this column I wrote for Hearts at Home back in 2001.

Summer Fun

2009-06-02T12:49:00.001-07:00

It's All About Relationships . . .

2009-06-02T12:42:00.001-07:00

I've been reading the book of I Thessalonians the past few weeks. Actually I Thessalonians is a letter Paul wrote. That distinction brings up a question for me: how is a book different from a letter?
The first thing that comes to mind is that a letter is usually much more personal than a book. You can see that in the very first verse, when Paul identifies his companions as well as the people to whom he is writing. Paul is with Silvanus and Timothy, and he is writing to the church of the Thessalonians. The church at Thessalonica, according to William Barclay, sat at a crossroads between east and west. In his Daily Bible Study series, Barclay writes, “Its main street was part of the very road which linked Rome with the East. East and West converged on Thessalonica; it was said to be 'in the lap of the Roman Empire.'”
Barclay goes on to observe that “It is impossible to overstress the importance of the arrival of Christianity in Thessalonica. If Christianity was settled there, it was bound to spread East along the Egnatian Road until all Asia was conquered and West until it stormed even the city of Rome.”
The strategic importance of the church of Thessalonica was surely not lost on Paul, but he doesn't lecture the Thessalonians about it, with a list of all he expects from them. Instead he describes his feelings for the members of the congregation.
“We give thanks to God always for you all,” Paul writes, “constantly mentioning you in our prayers, remembering before our God and Father your work of faith and labor of love and steadfastness of hope in our Lord Jesus Christ.”
Paul seems much more interested in relationship than he does in utility.
His attitude is a good reminder that relationship is the starting point for God's work in our lives, beginning with our relationship with Jesus Christ. Our relationships with one another matter, too. Paul is taking care of relationships here, reminding the Thessalonians that he is grateful to God for their friendship and faith.
What a great way to begin!

Getting an Education

2009-06-02T05:40:00.000-07:00

I like learning new things.
Last fall I joined a program through Greenville College to put together all the pieces I've accumulated over the years, and finish up a bachelor's degree in organizational leadership. My education is kind of like a quilt -- it's on the frame now, and I'm getting it all stitched up.
I'm spending even more time than before on my computer, but sometimes I have to admit I'm ready for something less intense than homework, like computer games.
This worries my BH. He remembers the first computer game I played, the one that worked on our old Atari. It was better than a vacation, and I'd escape into it until someone (usually someone who was hungry) made me stop.
Recently I found a website that combines education with fun, and throws in a really good cause as well: Free Rice. There are several different games here, including foreign language vocabulary, math, geography, and famous paintings. For each answer you get right, a grain of rice is donated to feed someone who is hungry. At first I thought one grain of rice doesn't sound like much, but then, I'm not usually all that hungry. And these games are fun, so usually the amount of rice adds up quickly. The other night I got all the way to 5,000 grains of rice. Then I had to get back to my real homework.
If you feel like challenging yourself and helping someone else at the same time, I encourage you to check it out!

The Sap Is Running . . .

2009-04-29T08:32:00.000-07:00

It's all because of the sap.
At least, that's what BH says.
It's the sap running that caused the branch to break, which caused BH to borrow the tree-trimmer and get out the ladder.

That's him, leaning precariously (“Of course I'm being careful!”) out to saw off the sappy branch that got too heavy to hang on.
Does all this make sense?
That's what I thought, too . . .

Retreat, Refresh, Re-engage . . .

2009-04-23T19:06:00.000-07:00

Getting away, even for a day or two, is a treat.
Last week, BH and I got away to St. Louis, but on our way we stopped in Lebanon, Illinois to have lunch at Dr. Jazz. If you've never been there, Lebanon is a charming small town (home of McKendree University) about 20 minutes from St. Louis. Dr. Jazz is a restaurant/ice cream parlor with wonderful food, small town atmosphere, and a real sense of fun. While we were there, we got to see a young man (probably around 14 years old) finish off a Dr. Jazz specialty, The Ice Cream Overdose: 12 scoops of ice cream with hot fudge, caramel, whipped cream, a variety of nuts, and a cherry. The menu offers it free if you finish it yourself in 30 minutes -- and he did, to the applause of everyone in the restaurant.
Dr. Jazz is a not-to-miss treat.

********

Once we got to St. Louis, we visited the Missouri History Museum to see the Gee's Bend quilts, and happened on two other interesting exhibits, one about Charles Lindbergh and the other about the St. Louis World's Fair. This museum is lovely, with an imposing statue of Thomas Jefferson to welcome you. The Gee's Bend quilts were striking, alive with color and texture. I think almost all of the quilts on exhibit were interpretations on the Housetop and Log Cabin patterns, and the variety, ingenuity, and creativity involved in their design was dazzling. The exhibit offers a free audio tour as well as an excellent video about Gee's Bend and its quilters.
The museum website offers a glimpse of all they have to offer. The website -- and, of course, the museum itself -- are well worth a visit.

********

We spent a morning walking through Mr. Shaw's garden, also known as the Missouri Botanical Garden. It's hard to tell what is most wonderful -- the fragrances of a variety of blooming things, or the colors of spring, or the birds flitting through the trees chirping and chattering, or the cool breeze on your cheek as you sit on a bench in the Japanese Garden, or the feel of any number of plants or trees you can't help but touch as you walk by.

We've been visiting this garden off and on since 1977, and it's one of my favorite places. We've watched the Japanese Garden mature, and the Victorian Garden develop from a few paths into a delightfully developed place to wander.

On this trip, Mr. Shaw's home, Tower Grove, was open to visitors so we went inside to see how he lived. We learned more about his life than we'd heard before, and were impressed with his courage, business savvy, and determination.

We found a new area for children, incorporating Missouri history, small pocket child-friendly gardens, and play areas for kids.

Throughout the garden we found stunning glass installations by Dale Chihuly -- herons in the Climatron, glass ornaments in the reflecting pool, and smaller pieces tucked away in surprising places.

We made time for a delicious (and reasonable) lunch in the Sassafras Cafe, then visited the St. Louis Herb Society's herb sale held near the Gift Shop. Like the Missouri History Museum, the Missouri Botanical Garden has an excellent website, where you can find everything you might want to know if you're planning a visit -- and I encourage you to plan a visit. Soon.
You won't be sorry!

I Think She Is . . .

2009-04-20T07:39:00.000-07:00

My daughter Amy shared these two posts from her Facebook page with me, and I was so impressed with what she'd written that I asked if I could share it with you, just in case you're not one of her facebook friends. Amy says she's not a writer.
I'll let you be the judge:

Cool Mom/ Mean Mom

I always knew I would be a cool mom. It just seemed to reason that because my own parents were SO incredibly lame, I couldn't miss. Growing up in a house with 8 kids (and very religious parents) I sensed it didn't all have to boring and tedious and of course, sinful. I had visions of late night chats with my teenage daughter talking about her true feelings. I would be understanding and patient, and always have advice she would cling to. I would be cool about drinking, and sex. Never judgmental or nagging. I would have the perfect answer every time; and I would never embarrass my children by dressing frumpy or out of style.

Then I actually had kids.

As it turns out, I am the farthest thing from a cool mom you can get. We do not (gasp) have the internet. My children do not have cell phones, or TV's in their rooms, in fact they are only aloud 1/2 hour of TV on most days. I don't sign my kids up for every activity that passes from the school folder to the table; in fact, they hardly get to do/ have anything they want. I am a "mean mom". Never in my life did I think that I would be, but I am. I really like it that way; and I think my kids are better of because of it.

The reason for my rant today is that I keep seeing things on TV that make me crazy. Two examples: Oprah's guest last week who was advocating vibrators for your teenage daughters. Now, while I agree with talking to your kids about sex in age appropriate ways; the logic of telling your daughter she can take care of herself and then a) she won't need a partner or b) she will be safe from emotional/physical pain. Where do I even start with that? Don't they understand girls get in trouble most times not because they can't do it themselves (most do); it's because our girls feel it's o.k. to give themselves away for free. They are doing it to gain acceptance and love from a mainstream world.

The second is the concept of "sexting". If you have children who are old enough to use a cell phone, just expect them to use in ways you would never have imagined. The media is in an uproar over charging these teens with child porn laws. Why should we not? Surely we all know that the teenage brain is not fully formed. The connective synapses these kids are forming link inappropriate sex usage with normalcy. What makes us think this is going to go away after they mature fully? I am scared for the men my daughters will marry. I am scared my daughters will be lost and confused when it comes to all this. So, I am going to begin writing down some of the things we can do to combat these things. If you don't want to read them, don't.

I will warn you, I am a mean mom and I'm proud of it.

-- Amy Croasdale

************

Pray, pray, pray...and then pray some more

My mom used to pray with us every morning before we went to school. All eight of us. It didn't matter if we were running late; we did it every morning. even after some us were busy teenagers and didn't stick around in the morning; my mom still prayed. If not with us, then for us, every morning. Sometimes when I was small, I felt comfort in this ritual. But as a teenager, I downright hated it. I felt if I wanted God in my life- I would talk to him myself.

What I have been realizing over the last couple years, is that my parents for many years, have been covering us kids with an umbrella of prayer. I believe it has protected us; sheltered us from some of life's hardships. I'm not saying we haven't had trouble, because we have. I'm just saying that God has been with us through all of it. I want to provide that for my kids.

For me, it began with my own relationship with God. It took me a long time to need it, to want it. But once I started, there was no turning back. After that I started praying for my husband. It was not easy. We were going through quite a rough patch and frankly, I didn't feel like it. Well I can tell you it's very hard to be cantankerous and bitter towards a man you are praying for. If you have not tried this, I suggest you find a copy of Stormie Omartian's book "The Power of a Praying Wife". Simple chapters and easy to follow prayers changed my attitude towards my marriage and indeed changed my marriage. It is nearly impossible to parent your children if you and your spouse are not on the same page; or at least in the same book! Next, the kids. I don't pray with my kids every morning. (I am REALLY not a morning person.) But we do pray together a lot. From "help me find my bear" to "please be with Uncle Scott at the hospital". Actually, when I went to pray with my kids for my brother-in-law, my 7 year old plainly told me "We already did that mom." We pray our way through life. I pray for my kids at school, "...please surround them with your love, comfort and peace." I feel like it creates a little bubble around them. Of course sometimes my kids will roll their eyes. I certainly understand that. But someday I hope they know that we are covering them.

(As a postscript: Sometimes we pray for our kids with no visible results. This is especially hard with teenagers. I'm certain while I was in high school/college my parents prayed for me with no visible result. But in time there was a result. I was redeemed!)

-- Amy Croasdale

************

Off the Cuff

2009-04-15T05:14:00.000-07:00

If you're looking for something fresh and new for your summer wardrobe, check out this jewelry from Zanne Avenue. Witty and fun, these cuffs, necklaces, and rings are definitely to show off!

Stethoscope

2009-04-13T09:00:00.000-07:00

A friend sent BH the link to this video, “Stethoscope.” If you haven't seen it, click here.

I think you'll enjoy it.

Good Friday musing . . .

2009-04-10T09:21:00.000-07:00

Today is, of course, Good Friday. The music running through my head includes songs like “O Sacred Head, now wounded . . . “ Last night at St. Peter's Maunday Thursday service, BH preached briefly about all the losses Jesus suffered -- family, friends, freedom, health, dignity -- and how He endured those losses for us. It was a short, simple, profound meditation, and I've been reflecting on it all morning. As I think about everything Jesus lost -- willingly -- tears come to my eyes.
It's raining outside this morning, a chilly rain. The grey morning matches my mood, and yet, to borrow a phrase, “It's Friday now, but Sunday's coming!”
A few years ago, my dad died rather unexpectedly. His birthday that year -- his 70th -- would have been the day before Easter. I wrote a column for Hearts at Home that ran in the Pantagraph about how Jesus's resurrection changed the way we remembered and celebrated my dad's life.
How has Jesus's resurrection changed things for you?

Monday Photographs

2009-04-06T16:07:00.001-07:00

April morning

The New Colors of Spring: Green . . . and White

Snow, Blooming Among the Daffodils

I, I, I . . .

2009-04-03T06:07:00.001-07:00

Illinois's ex-governor Rod Blagojevich is, of course, Innocent.
Or so he says.
He has been Impeached.
Now he has been Indicted.
And if he is found guilty, he will be Incarcerated.
His problem is it's all about “I.”

How did this man ever get elected governor -- twice?

A Mind is a Terrible Thing to Waste . . .

2009-03-31T11:15:00.001-07:00

I don't want to sound too paranoid, but I think I've uncovered a plot.
Sunday afternoon, I noticed my daughter was wearing a snowman sweater, and what had it been doing?
Right. Snowing.
I've been wondering if there was an explanation for all the snow this year, and especially this early spring snow. Spring is supposed to be the season of flowers, little green buds on trees, and warm weather. Not snow.
I hated to blame Sunday's snow on my daughter.
Imagine my surprise -- dismay, really -- when I found this little guy hanging around on my study door:

Here's my theory: all those decorative winter snowmen are responsible for the snow. I'm practically sure of it.
So, I've banished snowmen to a dark closet in the basement. I'll let them out again sometime early next winter, when snow sounds like a good idea again, but for now they have been retired.
Please join me in preventing them from causing any more snow showers.

************

The Hours Are Long . . .

2009-03-31T06:25:00.000-07:00

A friend told me once that “the hours are long, but the days are short.”
As the days go by, I am convinced she was so right about that!
Here it is, March 31 already, and this year is one-quarter over. The snow squall of this past week-end notwithstanding, it seems as if we were celebrating the new year just last week, and here it is, spring.

We had another reminder of how quickly time passes this past week-end. A friend of our family was married last Saturday, and almost all of our kids (and some of their kids) were home for the celebration. Once again the driveway was filled with cars, the kitchen was busy, and there was laughter, conversation and sometimes commotion all through the house.
Everyone was dressed up in wedding finery, and I couldn't help remembering mornings when it was a scramble to convince them that really, socks should match and hair looks much better when it's combed neatly.
None of them need those reminders any more, and they do their own scrambling.
They've all grown up, and so quickly!
The hours sometimes seemed to go on forever, with the need to be consistent, to discipline, to help and oversee and manage -- but the days?
The days are short.

What a Difference A Day Makes

2009-03-30T09:08:00.000-07:00

Sunday morning:

Monday morning:

Making Something

2009-03-26T06:15:00.000-07:00

The Lenten services at our church are amazing.
The music, accompanied by violin, is lovely and haunting. We've used a liturgical setting by Marty Haugen for the past 9 years, and the congregation sings it with a depth of skill, feeling, and meaning that comes from knowing it well.
I think sometimes we underestimate the grace of congregational singing. There is something about singing well together that brings a sense of being whole and healthy. Each of us sings our own part, and each part of the whole makes the whole lovely and strong. Together we are making something -- a song -- offering it in worship to God.
That must be pleasing to Him!

Lullaby, and Good Night . . .

2009-03-25T07:13:00.000-07:00

Do you remember someone singing you a lullaby?
Last night I went to sleep to the sweet sound of quiet rain whispering on the roof and in the trees outside my bedroom window. It was as pretty and soothing as the lullabies I remember my mom and dad and my grandmas singing to me when I was a little girl.
Both my grandmas were lullaby singers. Grandma CvT was somewhat businesslike about it, lacking confidence in her singing ability, while Grandma McK was more playful. She sang an Irish lullaby most often, as part of a bedtime ritual that included a warm bath, talcum powder, and hair-brushing. Then, once settled into bed, she'd read a story (she was especially fond of Peter Rabbit and his adventures), sing a lullaby, hear prayers, then tiptoe out of the room, closing the door softly behind her.
My mom sang just because she liked to sing, while my dad sang because he believed it would help us go to sleep quicker (his nightly goal!). I thought my mom had the most beautiful voice in the world.
One of the things we lose as we gain adulthood is the pleasure of being sung to sleep.
Unless it's a quiet, rainy night.

Spring Is . . .

2009-03-24T13:17:00.000-07:00

It's not news that spring is a season of extremes.
The weather can be frizzly, with frigid temperatures and mixed precipitation, or it can be sunny, bright and warm -- or something in between.
Huge trees put on green almost overnight, and in the yard tiny flowers pop up in the grass -- delicate snowdrops, tiny anemones, pastel pushinka.

Colors vary from shades of gray to bright, pulsing swathes of sky blue, new green, or daffodil yellow.
Tiny birds trill and geese honk; dogs bark and kids yell; quiet misty rain brings up the smell of good black dirt while warming sun is a reminder to turn the compost pile.
If winter is like old age, then spring is like childhood or early adolescence.

Monday's Challenge . . .

2009-03-23T19:14:00.001-07:00

I came home this afternoon to find a large limb from one of the locust trees in the flower bed, crushing the bright, brave yellow crocus.

No problem, I thought. I'll just go move it off the flower bed.
Not.
Dug into the dirt, smack up against both a basement window, nudging the front stoop, that limb wasn't in a hurry to move.
I'm tougher than this, I thought.
Not.
Oh, eventually I did manage to maneuver the large limb off the crocus and out of the flower bed.
Then I decided it looks like a lovely lawn ornament, and came inside.
To rest.
Tomorrow, as they say, is another day.

Sunday Mornings . . .

2009-03-22T18:05:00.000-07:00

I was thinking today about how Sunday mornings have changed throughout my life, how as a child I loved to walk to our church a few blocks away for Sunday School, then stay for church. I loved the stories, the music, and the kind people who made coming to church fun.
As a teen-ager I sang in our church choir, and loved the music we sang. Then as a young adult I turned away from God for awhile, but when finally I came back to church I discovered how much I'd missed Him. Those were the Sunday mornings of diapers and disasters -- you know the kind: the spilled milk, the lost socks, the tangled hair and tears, the hurrying out the door while trying not to yell and completely undermine the purpose of going to worship.
That's when I learned the real value of a Saturday night well spent: baths, laying out clothes for Sunday morning, getting something ready for breakfast ahead of time. Usually BH made pancakes for our appreciative gang of kids while I helped the littlest ones eat and dress. We even occasionally made it out the door on time!
A local radio station, not usually our favorite, (the home of easy-listening music) had a Sunday morning program called Sounds of Faith, a nice mix of traditional hymns, contemporary Christian music, and gospel quartets. The host made small talk throughout the two hours. That program encouraged me while I was working, and helped me get ready for worship!

************

As our kids got older (and wanted to sleep later!) we began attending a contemporary service later in the morning. We weren't as rushed, and the radio station had pulled the plug on Sounds of Faith, but our CD collection filled that gap. Sitting in the service with our sometimes-surly teens and pre-teens was a lesson in focusing, and hoping that somehow, they would “get it.”
I never minded going to church, and during most of these seasons it's been the thing that gets me through the week. Sometimes a sermon or a song or an encounter makes me squirm; I've had a lot of changing and growing up into Christ to do, and I have a feeling the job isn't finished! but I was -- am -- hungry for the Word, for the fellowship, for the opportunity to worship. I've come to realize that those things are more dependent on my attitude than they are on whatever is happening in the service -- if I come ready to receive, I always find God there, ready to give!

************

We didn't offer our kids a choice. They were coming with us to church, period. As they got older we explained that we considered this part of their training, and part of our responsibility as their parents. What we did give them was an out when they graduated from high school. At that point, we told them, they would have to make a decision about their own faith. We'd be glad -- thrilled, even -- if they continued to come with us as a freely made choice, but we wouldn't press them if they decided not to come along.
When BH accepted a pastoral call, we lost the pleasure of sitting together in church. We only had one child still at home with us full-time. That child came to church with me -- not always too happily -- but the day came when he graduated high school and left home for sailing ships, service, and adventure. For the first time since I was a young girl, I sat in church alone, but God brought a most precious gift: one of our daughters and her family moved, and began coming to church with us.
As time has gone by, all our kids live out a measure of faith. They've seen the worst of church life -- the bickering, the pettiness, and the faithlessness that sometimes afflict God's people; but they've also seen the best of it: the times when we live out and live in God's presence among us in Christ. They've experienced love, compassion, and caring; they've seen tremendous examples of spiritual maturity and strength. They sometimes struggle with faith, they sometimes question it, they try to live it out honestly, and wrestle with all that that means. I am confident that whatever they need, God has, and is, and will supply.
Most Sunday mornings now are more leisurely, more quiet. I sit expectantly in church, grateful for the privilege of being there. I look around, amazed at God's work, His willingness to meet us as we are. I'm touched by the music, by the Word, by the preaching. I think about sitting in church with my parents, my grandparents, my brothers and sisters, my husband and our family, friends I've come to love.

************

The time will come when some Sunday morning will be the last Sunday morning I go to worship. Perhaps I'll be aware of it; more likely I won't. Death can come suddenly, and things we think might go on forever just stop. Or infirmity might keep me home, or confined to a hospital or nursing home where I'll be dependent on whatever church group is kind enough to bring a service to us.
But what a rich gift it is right now, to be able to go to church, to worship freely and openly, to hear the Word preached, to sing together in worship, to love and be loved. What a privilege to be nourished, encouraged, and sent out into the everyday world to live out the faith we've just celebrated -- what a rich gift it is to be part of God's family in faith.

A Little of This, A Little of That . . .

2009-03-19T07:40:00.000-07:00

I know St. Patrick's Day is over, but I noticed this morning that the grass is greening up so nicely that today feels like a celebration of “the wearing of the green.”
Speaking of St. Patrick, my friend Megan posted about St. Patrick's Day -- you can read it here. It's a funny thing about corned beef and cabbage -- my friend Jane and her husband made it for one of our church Lenten soup suppers last year, but she wasn't happy with how it turned out; the rest of us thought it was delicious! I like what Megan writes about why St. Patrick deserves our attention, though.

********

There was an interesting juxtaposition on The Today Show this morning.
One story concerned the new First Family and the emphasis they put on manners for their daughters. Evidently the Obama family works at teaching their girls to be well-mannered. They believe those standards are important, because good manners make life more pleasant and ease social situations as well as family life.
The other story was a brief news clip about the Pope's trip to Africa and his comments about condoms. It was reported that his statements about how condoms make the AIDS problem worse would render the Church even more irrelevant.
I thought his comments about condoms simply pointed toward how the standards of the Church -- abstinence outside of marriage; fidelity within marriage -- might help make the AIDS epidemic less virulent. Those standards are helpful in minimizing the effects of sexually transmitted diseases as well as the transmission of the AIDS virus.
Both of these are worthwhile and helpful goals, so why is one set of standards -- good manners -- to be applauded and adopted, while the other set of standards -- responsible, faithful sexual behavior -- are counted as “irrelevant” and foolish?

********

BH is excited about grilling out this evening. That means a trip to the store for the season's first charcoal and something for the grill. And that means less cooking in the kitchen for me.
Which reminds me of the commercial I saw yesterday on television. A young couple has discovered a whole meal that can be “steamed” in the microwave in its own bag. There aren't even any pans to clean up, and they can enjoy a “home-cooked” meal!
WOW!
Whatever happened to actually cooking? It's usually cheaper, more nutritious, good stewardship of resources, and even fun.
I like quick and easy, and if you check out our freezer you'll find a few Lean Cuisine and Bertolli dinners we can make in a pinch.
But it seems as if we lose something when we always go for quick and easy. There is a lot of pleasure to be had in making a meal the old-fashioned way, by starting from scratch and enjoying the textures, smells, and tastes of food. When we are cooking or baking, our kitchens become a welcome-home station for our families, a place of service that speaks our love for them.
It's nice to have the choice, of course; I just don't want to pass up the opportunity to spend more of myself actually cooking instead of just opening up one more plastic-bag supper.

Spring . . . Cleaning

2009-03-18T07:36:00.001-07:00

Another sunny day, although a bit cooler than yesterday. I have a sniffly almost-three year old to keep me company this morning while I take care of a few chores. Somehow the spring sunshine and warmer temperatures make me want to shine up the house.
Is that part of what sent our grandmothers into spring-cleaning mode? I remember my grandmother, whose house was always immaculate, getting excited about spring cleaning. I couldn't understand what there was to clean or why she would want to clean it, and I certainly didn't want to be anywhere close enough to help, although I didn't mind the results!
Not only did she keep her home clean and orderly, she ironed her sheets. This only sounds crazy if you've never slept under ironed sheets -- they're heavenly soft and cozy! Every time I stayed at Grandma's those smooth sheets were a treat.
When I became a wife and mom I struggled with simple home maintenance, much less cleaning, but the good example my mom and grandma set encouraged me to keep trying, and what I soon realized is that cleaning is about much more than cleaning!It's about making a home, a place where my family could be comfortable and healthy.
Slowly I began to acquire the skills I needed to accomplish that goal, and to appreciate what a blessing it is to maintain an orderly, clean home. Not perfectly, not yet -- but certainly better than when I began!
And now, with all this sunshine and warmer weather, I'm doubly inspired to sort out, recycle, and clean!

Now, Spring

2009-03-17T11:25:00.001-07:00

What a gorgeous day -- sunny and warm. This is the day we were waiting for every time ice piled up on backyard branches and slickened up the streets.
What is it about a day like this that makes me forget my to-do list and just head outside? Suddenly I'm thinking of things like breakfast at the picnic table, coffee on the swing, long walks in the evening -- the small pleasures of spring and summer.
Our forsythia bush looks as if it is ready to burst into bloom, and the daffodils along the back fence seem to get taller even while I watch. I know the weather report promises cooler temperatures later in the week, but today -- today it's spring!

Lenten Musing . . .

2009-03-17T09:20:00.000-07:00

Who is Christ to you?
I've been thinking about that question this Lenten season.
For some of us Christ is irrelevant. We've figured out life, the world and our place in it, and what we've figured out makes sense to us, so why would we need to clutter it up with some kind of deity?
To some of us, Christ is easily dismissed: a myth, the refuge of the superstitious, or perhaps just a pretty story.
To some of us, perhaps, Christ is an idea, an intellectual exercise. We figure there must be a plan or some kind of organization that makes sense of the world we live in, and we like the idea of that plan having his face. Or Christ is a vehicle for music, for art, for good works that make us feel better about ourselves.
For some of us Christ is a convenience, someone we can pray to when we want or need something. Maybe he'll answer our prayer, or not; we just have to figure out how to ask so he'll say yes.
For some of us Christ is a savior, a friend, our Lord. That makes obedience relevant to our lives. George MacDonald talks about the importance of obedience as the only way we can be one with him. The idea of obeying what Christ asks of us is not one we talk about often.
It implies He has a claim of some kind on us, that we owe Him something.
What do you think -- who is Christ to you? Does He have some kind of claim on your life?
Does obedience to Christ matter? And if so, why?

Spring Cleaning, Winter's Return, and Preparing for Fun

2009-03-11T05:40:00.000-07:00

It's cold this morning, with the kind of brisk chill that reminds me winter is still a viable alternative to the lovely spring weather we've had the last few days.
All that warm weather put me in the mood to clean. Spring cleaning is a hopeful thing, as in “I hope if I get the house cleaned up, the cobwebs down, and find a place for all the things we don't need or want anymore, the rest of the year will be as fresh and light as these first days of spring seem to be.”
Spring cleaning is a way of preparing our house for all the fun things the rest of the year has to offer -- family dinners and picnics, drop-in company, breakfast at the picnic table, quiet cozy evenings.
It's the idea of preparing a place where all those family activities can happen that entices me to sort and stow, dust and vacuum, wash and mop.
Speaking of preparation, there are other things to prepare for, too. Check out my post on Inspired Bliss for more.
And even though the weather has temporarily turned cold again, don't forget it's time to get ready for spring!

Bits and Pieces . . .

2009-03-09T18:13:00.000-07:00

Delicate, tiny snowdrops are blooming in the yard, and despite the forecast for colder weather this week, it feels as if spring is actually almost here. We've had our first tornado warnings, too, so it must be official.

********

I'm not liking this early “spring forward” schedule for daylight savings time. It means early morning's first light comes later, and that makes it feel more like winter. Very early in the spring, birds begin to twitter and chirp and even sing at first light -- if hope is a melody, they are singing it. But with this month-too-early daylight savings time, they are singing later. It makes me feel like a curmudgeonette.

********

Speaking of birds singing, this morning BH and I were enjoying a quiet breakfast when suddenly we heard a cardinal trilling. We listened as he warmed up and showed off for almost a minute, and I continued to hear him singing throughout the morning. What a blessing!

********

I just started reading 3 Cups of Tea, the story of Greg Mortenson and the schools he builds in Pakistan and Afghanistan, and already I think I'm in love with this book. The writing is gorgeous, the story compelling, and I know almost everyone else in the world has already read it. It's hard to put down but with everything else going on around here, I'm doing well to get a chapter a day in.

********

Speaking of everything else, it's been a busy couple of weeks. If you'd like to know some of what's been going on, you can read about it here, here, here, and here. Add in a heavy homework load, a few other real-life obligations, and the usual stresses of modern life, and you'll understand why a. I haven't blogged much lately, and b. I'm tired!

********

How about you -- what's been going on with you?

Conversations in Stone

2009-02-23T19:51:00.000-08:00

I was listening to a feature about the composer Thomas Tallis on an older Mars Hill CD this morning. During an interview with Paul Walker, host Ken Myers made a comment about Tallis's music that made me stop and think about something only indirectly related: the two men were talking about Tallis's fondness for writing music that made the most of his instruments and singers in the sense of writing for the highest sopranos, the deepest basses, and so on.
One of the men -- I don't quite remember now which of them -- noted that such music was necessary to fill up the great churches and cathedrals of the time, then observed we wouldn't need such music now, as often, all we have to fill up is a Morton building.
We -- the Church -- have become quite used to modest church buildings. We've had to close up some of our most beautiful churches because the areas around them have changed and there aren't enough parishioners anymore to care for and support them. We don't build great cathedrals because they are too expensive. We don't need such extravagance, we tell ourselves; we could find God on the golf course if necessary.
And that's true. God, being omnipotent and omnipresent, can certainly be found on the golf course, but that's not really the point.
The great cathedrals and many less-impressive-but-nevertheless-beautiful churches were built with a commitment to excellence and loveliness out of a deep desire to honor God, to reflect in an architectural way the abiding truths of Scripture and the Gospel about who God is, and how He is, and what He is.
I'm blessed right now to attend church in a church building that is traditionally beautiful, in familiar ways -- stained glass windows, a carved altarpiece, glowing woods and soaring ceilings, with a bell tower that, while difficult to maintain, stands out over the countryside like a sentinel. On Sunday mornings the bell is rung to call us to worship, a hush falls over the sanctuary, and my heart rests in the peace of it.
There are many other ways to incorporate beauty and majesty into a church building, some of them traditional, some quite simple and lovely, some more modern. My argument isn't with them.
The churches I worry over are the ones that sacrifice that translation of who and how and what God is -- that conversation in stone -- into the place where they meet. They miss an important opportunity to speak in brick and mortar, or wood, or stone; they substitute sensible thrift for extravagant sacrifice, and are all the poorer for it.

25 Things . . .

2009-02-09T19:50:00.001-08:00

* Letters, notes, cards, phone calls and visits from people I like and love
* Handel, Bach, Corelli, JanieS, Thelonius Monk, the Wesley brothers, Allison Krause, Anonymous 4, Brooks and Dunn, Trisha Yearwood, the Beach Boys, Bart Millard, Ella Fitzgerald, Frank Sinatra, Bing Crosby, and other music makers -- so many I don't have room to list them all, but how they enrich life!
* Books -- and short stories and poems and magazines, oh my!
* Clean sheets, especially if they've spent time in the linen closet with some fresh lavender
* Birds who sing, especially the little song wren who comes to our little corner bird house each spring and spends her summers with us, and the birds' nests I find in the yard after a storm
* Fresh snow
* Hot coffee
* Cold lemonade and frosty watermelon
* Babies, especially the ones I get to hold and rock
* Toddlers, especially when they are making jokes
* School science fairs, and the kids who put them on, and the teachers who help them
* People who care more about loving someone than judging them
* Teen-agers who are genuinely polite
* Art galleries! and art fairs and museums
* Walking along the beach, the smell of it and the music of the wind and water
* Going to sleep with the sound of waves, or a thunderstorm rumbling far off, or with the moon shining in the window
* Waking up with birds singing, or a quiet rain, or sun shining in the window
*Speaking of windows: washing them til they shine
* Healthy house plants, and flowers in the garden and in vases all around the house, and trees standing tall in the yard
* The smell of something good cooking in the kitchen or out on the back patio
* Photographs of people I love
* Vintage handwork -- whitework, embroidery, crochet, tatting, quilting
* Valentines
* Grade school kids on the playground
* The Bible cover my daughter made for me when she was just a grade-school girl, and all the notes and pictures my kids and grandkids and other family members have given me over the years

A Perfect Start for February

2009-02-04T19:04:00.001-08:00

One of my daughters posted a perfect February post to her blog today. You can read her “Things I'm Thankful For” and then -- write your own list of “Things I'm Thankful For.” Then, please share it with me.
I'm working on mine!

Signs of Spring

2009-02-04T18:59:00.000-08:00

The sun is getting stronger, and the light has a glow, as if all of creation knows a secret and is smiling about it.
Often now when I go outside I hear at least one bird singing, and sometimes more than one. The snow is melting around the edges, and streets are clear of snow (but full of left-over salt.)
Our amaryllis has bloomed, and the pink carnations on the dining room table remind me that soon it will be time to cut some forsythia branches for forcing. Valentines are replacing the snowmen who've served as winter decor (do you suppose if we put away all the decorative snowmen it will stop snowing?)
We'll be celebrating Presidents Lincoln and Washington's birthdays this month, and then -- it will be March, and spring won't be just a promise.
It will be almost here, in all its mud-luscious glory.

Comfort Lunch -- JELLO

2009-02-03T10:49:00.000-08:00

I had Jello for lunch.
Big deal, you say?
Yes!
Specifically, orange Jello with shredded carrot, made by a Mrs. Smith of Downs, Illinois. One of my daughters brought it home as a special treat from a local meat shop that sells deli salads and meats on the side.
Why a big deal, you ask?
First, of course, because my daughter brought it as a gift, and second, because I belong to The Jello Generation.
The Jello Generation transcends artificial divisions like The Greatest Generation or Baby Boomers. Those of us who grew up with mothers enchanted with Jello know what I'm talking about -- rainbow Jello salad. Strawberry Jello with bananas. Lime Jello with cottage cheese and pineapple.
Or orange Jello with mandarin oranges and whipped orange sherbet.
Jello for salad. Jello for dessert. Jello for fun (remember Jello cubes?) Even Jello with meat -- shrimp, or shredded pork, or chopped hot dogs . . .
Oh, sure, my son-in-law was laughing, but I didn't care.
I had Mrs. Smith's orange Jello with shredded carrot to comfort me.

Preparing . . .

2009-02-02T09:44:00.000-08:00

Being prepared, as Tim Russert noted in his book Big Russ and Me, is important.
I'm not necessarily thinking of the good old Scout motto, but of something more far-reaching. I'm thinking of being prepared for what God has next for us.
The problem is, how do we ever know what that is?
Some of “being prepared” in that sense is having the courage to try; some of it is making the time to watch and listen to what God is doing in your life. And some of it is being willing to do the hard work of getting ready.
When you read Russert's book, you realize he was thoroughly prepared for the interviews he conducted. He worked hard to get a good education, and brought that education and training to bear on the work he did. He researched, he thought and reflected, he honed the questions he asked. He paid attention to what was going on around him, asking questions and seeking to understand.
We might not know exactly what we are preparing for, but some things seem constant: educating ourselves to think and discern. Being willing to think about what is going on around us, honing our skills and paying attention -- those things help us to be prepared for whatever is next.
And who knows what that might be?

On Making Progress

2009-01-28T19:02:00.000-08:00

I've been cleaning bookshelves. It's like calling on old friends.
The temptation is to stop, to flip through pages, re-reading something here and there, examining illustrations and photographs, lingering over some portion of text that touched me, or challenged me, or made me think of something differently.
That's not a good way to make progress, at least not the cleaning kind of progress.
But then, maybe that's the trouble with progress. So often it means charging ahead, ignoring what's right around us, ignoring old friends, ignoring the pleasures of here-and-now.
I like progress, and I especially like bookshelves with a certain amount of neat-and-tidy, where I can find what I'm looking for, although I'll admit to a fondness for overflowing bookshelves -- they are like an adventure waiting to happen.
But progress is a means to an end, and it's important to remember that the end result of progress, of neat-and-tidy, is nothing more or less than the ability to visit with those old friends, whenever I feel the need for company.

Winter Lessons

2009-01-26T18:51:00.000-08:00

The news is full of dire reports and warnings about almost everything.
At the very same time the sun comes up a bit earlier each day, and sets a few minutes later. In between our golden lab flushes tiny birds out of the boxwood, there is an icy sheen on the creek, and the thermometer hovers in single digits. Winter goes on as winter does, steady in the midst of change.
Some things change -- from day to day snow falls or melts. Clouds come or go. Temperatures fall or rise.
Some things don't change -- under the snow, under the cold the tulips and crocus and daffodils are waiting for their time to bloom. No one can see them right now but they are there, and when the weather warms just a bit, and the days get longer, they'll show themselves.
Winter seems dire but spring is coming.
Is there a lesson there for us?

Snow. Again.

2009-01-14T15:01:00.001-08:00

Snow.
Again.
The grass -- such as it is -- has disappeared under a new blanket of snow. Tree limbs are wrapped in white, and the back yard has become a map of the movements of small animals -- squirrels, rabbits, perhaps a dog or possum.
You can tell it's the middle of January because after the initial quiet, people bundle up and get on with life. Even though local schools are closed today and many events have been cancelled, looking out the window I see cars moving slowly down the street, a few walkers, a few kids testing to see if the snow will pack.
It's too cold to be outside too long, so no one lingers, but snow and cold no longer shock us into immobility. We indulge in brisk walks and quick outdoor chores.
It's a good day for buttermilk cake and hot soup, a warm throw and a good book -- enduring pleasures for cold days.

The Heavens Are Telling . . .

2009-01-12T19:54:00.000-08:00

Light can be hard to come by this time of year.
Occasionally we have a bright sunny day, but more often the light is subtle under a grey sky.
A few nights ago the moon shone as if it thought it might compete with the sun, and it was lovely -- but still the birch in the backyard cast its long shadow through the night, and the sycamore was merely a silhouette in the half-light.
It is the darkness that makes the light stand out.
Scripture says the heavens are telling the glory of God, and it's easy to take that at face value, remembering all the times when the heavens and all creation are beautiful, breath-taking, reminding us of God's majesty and loveliness.
But I think the natural world is constantly calling us to remember God, to recognize Him at work in the world around us.
Light and darkness and shadow, for instance.
In the darkness, light stands out. As Henri Nouwen points out, God's divine love, in Jesus, is a light in the darkness.
The heavens are telling . . .

January Travel

2009-01-07T16:32:00.000-08:00

Ice and snow; snow and ice.
Sunshine has become January's punctuation, a brief mark between winter's verbs and nouns: freezing rain. Icy drizzle. Blowing snow. Black ice.
I heard someone say she had to chisel her windshield, and I knew just what she meant. I'll have to remember that next spring when it's time to clean out the garage!
Meanwhile, for the second year in a row, I'm spending January in England.
Really.
Last year, I spent January not feeling well, and reading the Miss Read books by Dora Saint about village life in England, including the entertaining Mrs. Pringle of Fairacre. Nothing much seems to happen in Miss Read's books, but when you finish one you realize it was life unfolding one day at a time. You can really only see what was happening when you look back on it.
Miss Read's books made me feel as if I'd been to England on a slow, gentle trip, and it was a perfectly delightful (and restful) way to spend January.
This year, my daughter Julie gave me Patrick Taylor's book An Irish Country Christmas. I'd been looking at it in the bookstores for several months, and managed not to buy it (promising myself I'd get it from the library after Christmas.) What a lovely surprise to receive it as a gift!
It didn't disappoint, and once again I found myself “traveling” in County Antrim and North Down, Ireland, meeting such interesting people as Dr. Barry Laverty, Dr. Fingal Flahertie O'Reilly, and Arthur Guinness, “a vast black Labrador” so named because “he's Irish, black, and has a great head on him . . . just like the stout.”
I've enjoyed it so much I found the two books that preceded it, An Irish Country Doctor and An Irish Country Village, and I'm enjoying them one or two chapters at a time -- I'm in no hurry to finish. These are books to savor and take one's time with, not because they are so deep, but because they are so rich in the details of everyday life in a time and place that have changed a great deal.
Snow and ice may limit where I'm able to go in my neighborhood, but these good books have taken me on a lovely winter vacation.

************
Two other books I've been enjoying are Founding Faith by Steven Waldman, and Tell It Slant, by Eugene Peterson.
If you're interested in politics but tired of tawdriness, Founding Faith may just remind you that politics has always been a curious mix of the practical and the ideal, the best and the worst of us.
I first heard of this book in an interview on National Public Radio, and was intrigued. Waldman, the founder of BeliefNet, starts at the very beginning, looking at the religious underpinnings of the first explorers and settlers in the New World. There are surprising details, insight, and interesting connections I'd not been aware of before. Footnotes offer documentation and even more detail. How all this comes together in the discussions we still have about the role of religion in our public policy and decision making is fascinating.
This book has been a bit controversial -- Waldman doesn't quite toe the traditional evangelical line -- but like anything controversial, it's best to take a look at it for yourself and decide what you think.
Eugene Peterson continues his series on spiritual theology with Tell It Slant, a book focusing on how Jesus used language and story. I've just started this one, but it promises to be both filling and nourishing!
Even if you're not familiar with Eugene Peterson, you may have read some of his work if you've read anything from The Message, Peterson's popular, accessible paraphrase of Scripture. In fact, The Message is so popular that Bono uses it and has quoted it while on tour with U2.
Whatever the weather, it's a good time to read!

When New Isn't, Any More

2009-01-06T07:38:00.000-08:00

The thing about beginnings is that they move so quickly into something else.
New cars depreciate the moment you drive them off the car dealer's lot.
Honeymoons last a few days or months. Babies quickly grow up into toddlerhood. “New” just doesn't last all that long.
It's usually easy -- fun, even, to make a good beginning. It's not always so easy to make a good middle, or a strong finish.
We've had enough time now, this new year, for a bit of the new to smudge off, for one or two of our resolutions to have cracked a bit, to see the difficulties embedded in our opportunities.
We can see the middle; maybe it looks tedious, even disappointing.
No matter how excited we are to begin something new, eventually we get to a place where the “new” has rubbed off, and all we are left with is the work required to make the promise reality.
How do we keep on in the face of difficulty, disappointment, boredom?
If we've committed our plans and hopes to our heavenly Father, He is committed to working good out of whatever situation we find ourselves in -- whether it is difficult, tedious, or not quite what we'd hoped for or expected.
Our job, then, is to trust Him. We do that by doing the next right thing (whether or not we feel like it) and the next one, and the next one, until we have worked our way through the middle, all the way to the end of whatever we are working on.
By choosing whatever is right, whatever is honorable, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, we demonstrate our trust in the One who works to bring good in and around us.
It's not easy.
It is worthwhile.
And eventually, He makes all things new.

Clocks and Calendars

2009-01-02T19:06:00.000-08:00

A few years ago the clock on the clock radio in our bedroom quit on Christmas evening.
The clock had been a gift from my husband the first year we were married.
It replaced a turquoise clock radio I'd had as a teen-ager at home. The turquoise clock worked fine, except for the lever you used to set the time or turn on the radio. It had broken somehow, and if you wanted to turn the radio on or change anything, you had to use a pair of pliers.
My new husband wanted me to have something that worked properly, so he gave me the clock radio that sat on our bedside table for almost 35 years.
That radio was sleek, with digital numbers that glowed red in the dark, instead of a round clock face. We kept track of all kinds of time with that clock -- time to go to bed, time to get up, labor contractions, time to take medicine.
What is it about time and keeping track of it that fascinates us so?
We measure time, not just with clocks but with calendars. By the calendar, today is the second day of a new year, a new year still shiny with possibility. Our fascination with time extends itself to a great interest in first things: a first tooth, a first date, a first house; we remember those events as milestones in our lives.
In the Old Testament we read, “In the beginning, God . . . “
The story starts by setting the time, noting that it is “the beginning,” and then introducing us to the main character.
In the beginning, God . . .
For each of us, there is a point of beginning with God, a first time when we become aware of His work in our life. There is a time when we turn toward Him, or when we turn away from Him.
This New Year, which will it be for you?

Resolutions, and Three Opportunities

2009-01-01T08:53:00.001-08:00

It's a new year -- whatever shall we do with it?
Traditionally this is a day to resolve to do better -- to exercise more and eat less, to learn something new, to treat someone more kindly.
This year I'm trying something different.
I want to identify new opportunities, and make the most of them.
This year I have the opportunity to love more. I want to grow in my willingness to love others -- my family, my friends, but also those who are harder to love: people who disagree with me. People who don't act the way I want them to, or the way I think they should. People who do things I don't like.
This year I have the opportunity to learn new things. I want to practice old skills and learn new ones, and then I want to put those things I've learned to good use.
This year I have the opportunity to be present for the good stuff: I want to keep my eyes and ears and mind and heart open to whatever is lovely and pure and true and honorable. I want to be there when good things happen; I want to look for God in the bad things that happen.
This year, I don't want to waste all the opportunities I have to live, and to live well.
Join me?

Last Day of 2008 . . .

2008-12-31T08:38:00.001-08:00

It's a crisp, cold day here, sunny and bright, but a little bit ago I looked out the window and it was snowing, a fine, glistening snow. It looked as if someone had shaken a container of glitter over the yard!
What a winter it's been!

Winter Surprise!

2008-12-03T07:06:00.001-08:00

The first snow this year came quietly, filling the yard and street as we slept.
We went to sleep with the weatherman's words reassuring us: dusting. It was going to be “just a dusting of snow.”
Ha! It was more like 7.5 inches of heavy wet snow, making the roads slick and every tree branch and flower stalk a work of glistening art.
With such beauty as that round about, who could complain?
Today the snow is dripping slowly from those same silver branches, but there's more snow in the forecast. This time they're calling for an inch or two.
If the ratio from “a dusting : 7.5 inches holds true, it's going to be a heavy snowfall!

We Have A Winner!

2008-12-02T08:50:00.000-08:00

The voting was close, but there's a winner!
If you go to today's Inspired Bliss post, you'll see which badge won the contest for The Mother Letter Project here.
Stay tuned for more Mother Letter Project news!