Yesterday, while the news was full of the tragic murders of 2 NON-WHITE policemen in protest by a madman, I was enjoying myself thoroughly, talking to several black women working in the stores where I was making purchases. We laughed and talked like old friends. There was no racial tension between us. Our skin color may have been different, but our hearts were in tune. If politicians and the PC police would shut up and go away, I think that's the way it would be in general everywhere.
One of the things my mother taught me about motherhood was to avoid getting involved in my children's spats with neighborhood friends. The kids patch things up quickly and forget what they were fighting about while moms are still bickering about whose precious angel did what naughty. The principle applies with politics. There are those who deliberately stir up trouble for their own benefit where people, if left alone, would figure it out themselves. In fact, until the blowhards started, there may not have been a problem in the first place.
I'm sick about the police officers who lost their lives and I sincerely hope their deaths were not in vain. Since I watched the shootings during the riots at Kent State so many years ago, I often wonder who has to die in order to restore sanity when violence again rears it's ugly head.
Every year, some of the boys I tutor read the story of the 5 missionaries who died in the jungles of Ecuador at the hands of the very Indians they were trying to reach with the love of Jesus Christ. It had a tremendous impact me when I was 12 years old. Each year, as I read the story and guide the boys in the essay they must write, the story takes new meaning. This year, I realized, perhaps for the first time, that their deaths served a purpose that their living could never have done.
Because they died so tragically, the world was changed. Men and women all over the world heard and responded to the Gospel they would have continued to ignore had the men continued to live quietly and unknown among the Waodoni tribe of Ecuador. Yes, the Waodoni are now Christians. It's a beautiful story. Perhaps if they had not murdered those missionaries, they would have in time come to Christ, but the rest of the world would have gone on it's merry way in ignorance.
I pray those policemen's deaths will have much the same impact. And a pox on politicians who martyred the truth, costing the lives of those two policemen. God will hold them accountable for the vitriolic invective they've spewed to infect the country for their own political gain. I believe in imprecatory prayer and I am praying God will bring them to such disgrace they'll lose all influence they've maliciously gained over the years. I pray they slink back into the slough of despondence they came from before other innocent people have to die from them shooting off their mouths.
Sunday, December 21, 2014
Saturday, December 13, 2014
Relevant
With my 71st birthday barreling down on me like a runaway freight train, I have to stop and take stock on occasion in regard to being relevant in this day and age. I looked the word up in the dictionary, just to make sure I'm using it correctly. As an aside, I do that a lot these days as a tutor. Anyway, the word means "pertinent" or "having to do with the matter at hand."
Our life has revolved around "The Color of Roses" for almost a year, now. So, is what I wrote relevant? I think so and I'll explain that in a minute. What got me thinking about relevancy in the first place was a conversation I was having with my first Florida friend, Marianne.
I was explaining to her that one of the people who are very big in the co-op where I have my book for sale (doing poorly) took it personally when she decided to have a party after the mall closed and only 4 of the 57 vendors showed an interest. Some of us in the co-op are disappointed in our sales and will be glad to call an end to the relationship. I think trying to sell in the mall may be a bit obsolete and out of touch. No longer relevant.
In the first place, the "company" party may be relevant where people have worked together for years and know each other well. It deepens the bond between workers and establishes an anticipated tradition. The co-op opened October 1. Hardly enough time to bond with 56 other people. Then, too, in the months I've been there, I've met maybe a dozen and only a few times at that. We all come and go on our own time, so there's really no opportunity to get acquainted, let alone make friends enough to want to attend a party. With the metaphoric rise of social media and its convenience, many such social gatherings are becoming going by the wayside. Losing relevancy.
Second, that particular mall isn't doing very well. Some of the places are vacant. Several stores have come and gone in the less than 20 years the mall has been open. Therefore, are we relevant in expecting to sell our product in a mall, particularly that one? Are malls becoming passe? So many people are ordering on line and having purchases delivered to the house. Quick, and convenient. (Except for this great grandmother's recent foray into cyber shopping.) Very irrelevant there.
Finally, is my book relevant? It's placed in the 1980's. Does that make it obsolete? I don't think so. It's been said that those who don't know history are bound to repeat its mistakes. Worse, if we don't know what God's way is, how can we enjoy following it? If we've not followed God's way, do we know how forgiving He is? Those are the two things I intend to focus on in every book I write. God's way is best and if you've strayed, He's waiting for our return.
Our life has revolved around "The Color of Roses" for almost a year, now. So, is what I wrote relevant? I think so and I'll explain that in a minute. What got me thinking about relevancy in the first place was a conversation I was having with my first Florida friend, Marianne.
I was explaining to her that one of the people who are very big in the co-op where I have my book for sale (doing poorly) took it personally when she decided to have a party after the mall closed and only 4 of the 57 vendors showed an interest. Some of us in the co-op are disappointed in our sales and will be glad to call an end to the relationship. I think trying to sell in the mall may be a bit obsolete and out of touch. No longer relevant.
In the first place, the "company" party may be relevant where people have worked together for years and know each other well. It deepens the bond between workers and establishes an anticipated tradition. The co-op opened October 1. Hardly enough time to bond with 56 other people. Then, too, in the months I've been there, I've met maybe a dozen and only a few times at that. We all come and go on our own time, so there's really no opportunity to get acquainted, let alone make friends enough to want to attend a party. With the metaphoric rise of social media and its convenience, many such social gatherings are becoming going by the wayside. Losing relevancy.
Second, that particular mall isn't doing very well. Some of the places are vacant. Several stores have come and gone in the less than 20 years the mall has been open. Therefore, are we relevant in expecting to sell our product in a mall, particularly that one? Are malls becoming passe? So many people are ordering on line and having purchases delivered to the house. Quick, and convenient. (Except for this great grandmother's recent foray into cyber shopping.) Very irrelevant there.
Finally, is my book relevant? It's placed in the 1980's. Does that make it obsolete? I don't think so. It's been said that those who don't know history are bound to repeat its mistakes. Worse, if we don't know what God's way is, how can we enjoy following it? If we've not followed God's way, do we know how forgiving He is? Those are the two things I intend to focus on in every book I write. God's way is best and if you've strayed, He's waiting for our return.
Saturday, December 6, 2014
Making friends
Today was my day to walk around the co-op where I have a station, attempting to sell my book. It's been an expensive lesson. I need to sell 20 books a month just to break even. So far, I've sold about 12, with 3 weeks left in the 12 week cycle. Needless to say, it's been a royal pain, physically and financially.
However, there are good things that happen that make it all worth while. Today, I literally had my purse on my arm, preparing to walk out the door when I noticed a very attractive woman checking out my table. I asked her if she were interested in books. Her answer was yes.
I asked what kind of books and she mentioned politics. I agreed with her but my book isn't really about politics. Then she mentioned she also was interested in learning anything about American culture. (She's from Germany) We began to bond over her German heritage because I lived in Germany for more than 2 years. She was such a sweet lady, but she's faced some hardships here in our country. I apologized for the rudeness of the Americans she's met. I know what it's like to face rudeness from people who disagree with me. Or accuse me of something I haven't done. I cannot be accountable for something done in America 150 years ago. I'm old, but not that old.
Long story short, she bought the book, I autographed it, and as she left, she said, "I've made a friend!" Then, she hugged me and kissed me before departing. Her lips to Your ears, Lord. I love making friends.
However, there are good things that happen that make it all worth while. Today, I literally had my purse on my arm, preparing to walk out the door when I noticed a very attractive woman checking out my table. I asked her if she were interested in books. Her answer was yes.
I asked what kind of books and she mentioned politics. I agreed with her but my book isn't really about politics. Then she mentioned she also was interested in learning anything about American culture. (She's from Germany) We began to bond over her German heritage because I lived in Germany for more than 2 years. She was such a sweet lady, but she's faced some hardships here in our country. I apologized for the rudeness of the Americans she's met. I know what it's like to face rudeness from people who disagree with me. Or accuse me of something I haven't done. I cannot be accountable for something done in America 150 years ago. I'm old, but not that old.
Long story short, she bought the book, I autographed it, and as she left, she said, "I've made a friend!" Then, she hugged me and kissed me before departing. Her lips to Your ears, Lord. I love making friends.
Friday, December 5, 2014
Prayer answered
This morning, I received a letter from a missionary in Kenya. This dear man, his dear wife and his church have placed me on their prayer list. He often writes they're praying for me-at the exact time I need it and without any contact from me. It's so humbling and gratifying to know God sends a messenger of grace and comfort when my world is falling apart.
Twice now, he's sent me a letter requesting prayer for the people of Kenya he serves. One of his ministries is a orphanage. The first time he had a specific request, it was for a 23 year old woman who could not afford care and she was in excruciating pain. In Kenya, hospitals are only for those who can afford it and as a daughter of a pastor who died, she couldn't afford it. Apparently, in Kenya, they still have a patriarchal society. (Wish we did). Anyway, sometime later, he wrote to say prayer had been answered and her pain had subsided. She was able to resume her daily activities.
This morning's message was again, an urgent prayer request. In some parts of the country Christians are being persecuted. Last week, 26 were taken from a bus, their arms broken, shot, and killed. Tuesday morning, people working in a quarry were attacked. They were forced to read a Koran. If they couldn't, the threat of impending death was issued.
In a mosque, the announcement was made that Christians must leave immediately. There are no funds for flights and no public transportation is working. We are so clueless. If you're one who believes in prayer, please do so.
On a much lighter note, God answers little prayer as well as great ones. When our grandson was here last year to celebrate our 50th anniversary, he said he would not be participating in the senior trip this year. It was too expensive. Israel was too dangerous. Has he ever changed his tune since someone stepped up anonymously and paid 75% of the bill! His other grandparents will pay 20%. He'll have the remaining 5% by time needed, I'm sure. God is so good.
Now, why has God privileged a privileged 18 year old boy with a trip to Israel and allows Christians in Kenya to suffer the way they have? His thoughts and ways are not ours, that's for sure. I only know I must be grateful for what He does that we see as good and trust Him when things aren't good from a human perspective. He loves the Kenyans and yet, He's allowing them to suffer. This has happened down through history. Only 1 apostle died a natural death. Many Christians lived in the catacombs under Rome, were fed to lions, used as target practice for warriors, etc. Joan of Arc was burned at the stake. The list goes on. Right now, 2 of the boys are reading about modern day martyrs whose story affects me to this day. "Through Gates of Splendor," "The End of the Spear" tells their story. Why god chooses them to suffer and not me is beyond me. I only know He's worthy of trust, obedience and worship.
I'm pretty sure I'll be too humble to speak when I meet those martyrs in heaven. Just keep me faithful, Lord, no matter what.
Twice now, he's sent me a letter requesting prayer for the people of Kenya he serves. One of his ministries is a orphanage. The first time he had a specific request, it was for a 23 year old woman who could not afford care and she was in excruciating pain. In Kenya, hospitals are only for those who can afford it and as a daughter of a pastor who died, she couldn't afford it. Apparently, in Kenya, they still have a patriarchal society. (Wish we did). Anyway, sometime later, he wrote to say prayer had been answered and her pain had subsided. She was able to resume her daily activities.
This morning's message was again, an urgent prayer request. In some parts of the country Christians are being persecuted. Last week, 26 were taken from a bus, their arms broken, shot, and killed. Tuesday morning, people working in a quarry were attacked. They were forced to read a Koran. If they couldn't, the threat of impending death was issued.
In a mosque, the announcement was made that Christians must leave immediately. There are no funds for flights and no public transportation is working. We are so clueless. If you're one who believes in prayer, please do so.
On a much lighter note, God answers little prayer as well as great ones. When our grandson was here last year to celebrate our 50th anniversary, he said he would not be participating in the senior trip this year. It was too expensive. Israel was too dangerous. Has he ever changed his tune since someone stepped up anonymously and paid 75% of the bill! His other grandparents will pay 20%. He'll have the remaining 5% by time needed, I'm sure. God is so good.
Now, why has God privileged a privileged 18 year old boy with a trip to Israel and allows Christians in Kenya to suffer the way they have? His thoughts and ways are not ours, that's for sure. I only know I must be grateful for what He does that we see as good and trust Him when things aren't good from a human perspective. He loves the Kenyans and yet, He's allowing them to suffer. This has happened down through history. Only 1 apostle died a natural death. Many Christians lived in the catacombs under Rome, were fed to lions, used as target practice for warriors, etc. Joan of Arc was burned at the stake. The list goes on. Right now, 2 of the boys are reading about modern day martyrs whose story affects me to this day. "Through Gates of Splendor," "The End of the Spear" tells their story. Why god chooses them to suffer and not me is beyond me. I only know He's worthy of trust, obedience and worship.
I'm pretty sure I'll be too humble to speak when I meet those martyrs in heaven. Just keep me faithful, Lord, no matter what.
Thursday, December 4, 2014
Just the facts, Ma'am
This morning, I had tests done at the hospital's diagnostic center. Check in for this stuff has become brutal. Takes longer to check in than to have the blood drawn. When the clerk saw my birthdate, she commented that I would soon have a birthday. I said, "Yes, I'm old."
She responded with "No, you're not." Then she looked at the date again and said, "Oh, yes, you are."
Of course, she back pedaled. "I meant to say your face looks so young." It's so much funnier if you leave the back pedaling off. No, I'm not going to alter my birth certificate. God knows the truth, I know the truth, so lying won't change anything.
Reminds me of the time a woman made a point to tell me what a beautiful alto voice I had. "Well, thank you, but I was the soprano."
Again, the back pedaling. "Oh, well, um, um, you were good, too."
Get real. It is what it is, as the youngsters of today are so fond of saying. I don't mind telling my age and I would really rather listen to a good soprano than be a poor one who has to strain to hit high notes and can throw more than a few clinkers into the mix.
It's nice to to know I'm loved and respected in spite of my faults. That's really all that counts. Hubby showed his love this morning. He had breakfast waiting on my when I got back from having a fasting blood test. What a guy!
She responded with "No, you're not." Then she looked at the date again and said, "Oh, yes, you are."
Of course, she back pedaled. "I meant to say your face looks so young." It's so much funnier if you leave the back pedaling off. No, I'm not going to alter my birth certificate. God knows the truth, I know the truth, so lying won't change anything.
Reminds me of the time a woman made a point to tell me what a beautiful alto voice I had. "Well, thank you, but I was the soprano."
Again, the back pedaling. "Oh, well, um, um, you were good, too."
Get real. It is what it is, as the youngsters of today are so fond of saying. I don't mind telling my age and I would really rather listen to a good soprano than be a poor one who has to strain to hit high notes and can throw more than a few clinkers into the mix.
It's nice to to know I'm loved and respected in spite of my faults. That's really all that counts. Hubby showed his love this morning. He had breakfast waiting on my when I got back from having a fasting blood test. What a guy!
Thursday, November 27, 2014
Attitude of Gratitude
Thanksgiving Day. So many have said so much, anything I can add may seem trite, but give thanks I must. My mother taught me well, and I'm grateful. My best friend lived in the same town where we attended church. She would often invite me to Sunday dinner. I'd stay with her and go home again with my parents after the evening service. Even though the visits were so frequent, I called her parents my second parents, I never neglected to say thanks for their hospitality. Connie's mother would get this smirk on her face when I got ready to leave the house. She knew what was coming. I would say thanks and she would nod and smile.
Looking back makes me grateful for all my parents taught me. Most important, they taught me about Jesus. I was a freshman in college before I realized I didn't know the Christ I intended to proclaim to the world. But, all that attendance in Sunday School, church, youth group, Youth for Christ meetings, summer camps, memorizing thousands of Bible verses, and participating in Christmas plays finally bore fruit when the knowledge I had in my head went to my heart.
A lot of the things they taught me were just quick little comments to events occurring around us. I was terrified of my sixth grade teacher. It was his second year of teaching after he left the Marines. Anyone who has any experience in teaching knows you are stricter in discipline when first starting out, so we bore the brunt of his military training. Daddy told me I couldn't expect to get through life without someone looking down their nose at me. That's saved me a lot of grief over the years.
When one (or more) of the neighbors had their midnight screaming fights because he came home drunk and she lit into him, Mother would tell you, "You might trap a man, but you won't keep him if you do." Everyone of those couples had shotgun weddings. It's one of the reasons I wrote the book I did. I hope to continue to get her message out.
Who in America is not grateful to live in this wonderful country? I've been privileged to visit or live in 29 of the 50 states and have friends or family in the rest of them. Yes, we have our troubles, but Tony Blair had it right when he said it's the only country other people are trying to escape to instead of from. I've lived in other countries and while each had their unique stamp on things, I was glad to get home. I have to admit, though, I'm NOT grateful when someone escapes the cruelty of their own country, only to propagate it here.
I'm grateful I grew up in a day and time when education was teaching reading, writing, and arithmetic instead of political correctness indoctrination. I'm grateful beyond words that we're working hard in our school to teach our boys in a way that will make them productive citizens in our world. Most of the boys come to our school because they just couldn't adjust or make it in a public school-we're kind of a last ditch effort on their behalf. At some point in their lives all of them will call the pastor to express their gratitude for Shiloh. Even those who didn't learn the lesson or couldn't stay will say they're grateful for what they learned and sorry for what they chose not to learn.
Bob and I are nearing 51 years of marriage. We have two fantastic sons, two daughters-in-law that we love enough to call daughters, five wonderful grandchildren, including our granddaughter-in-law, and a precious great grandson. God has blessed us so very richly with every one of them. We reared our sons to do even better than their parents and they've done it, making us proud as well as grateful. At times, their astuteness and intelligence amazes us. When Mark got his first big promotion, Bob asked, "How'd you get so smart?" He was joking-maybe. When Dan's family visited, I was amazed at how beautifully he conversed with his 18 year old son.
After the boys left home, our empty nest continued to be filled with love and laughter, just enjoying each other. Something that was often interrupted with two rowdy boys, a variety of pets, and a myriad of moves to contend with. The moves continued, but that gave us just each other to cling to in a new environment. Until we got Sheila 6 1/2 years ago. I can't say I'm sorry we went 23 years without a pet, but our "caustie" (an expensive cross between Cocker Spaniel and Australian Shepherd) has brought so much laughter to us. At the moment, she's scratching my arm, telling me it's time to pay attention to her, so suffice it to say, words fail in expressing my gratitude for all the blessings I've received the past 71 years.
Blessings to you, too.
Looking back makes me grateful for all my parents taught me. Most important, they taught me about Jesus. I was a freshman in college before I realized I didn't know the Christ I intended to proclaim to the world. But, all that attendance in Sunday School, church, youth group, Youth for Christ meetings, summer camps, memorizing thousands of Bible verses, and participating in Christmas plays finally bore fruit when the knowledge I had in my head went to my heart.
A lot of the things they taught me were just quick little comments to events occurring around us. I was terrified of my sixth grade teacher. It was his second year of teaching after he left the Marines. Anyone who has any experience in teaching knows you are stricter in discipline when first starting out, so we bore the brunt of his military training. Daddy told me I couldn't expect to get through life without someone looking down their nose at me. That's saved me a lot of grief over the years.
When one (or more) of the neighbors had their midnight screaming fights because he came home drunk and she lit into him, Mother would tell you, "You might trap a man, but you won't keep him if you do." Everyone of those couples had shotgun weddings. It's one of the reasons I wrote the book I did. I hope to continue to get her message out.
Who in America is not grateful to live in this wonderful country? I've been privileged to visit or live in 29 of the 50 states and have friends or family in the rest of them. Yes, we have our troubles, but Tony Blair had it right when he said it's the only country other people are trying to escape to instead of from. I've lived in other countries and while each had their unique stamp on things, I was glad to get home. I have to admit, though, I'm NOT grateful when someone escapes the cruelty of their own country, only to propagate it here.
I'm grateful I grew up in a day and time when education was teaching reading, writing, and arithmetic instead of political correctness indoctrination. I'm grateful beyond words that we're working hard in our school to teach our boys in a way that will make them productive citizens in our world. Most of the boys come to our school because they just couldn't adjust or make it in a public school-we're kind of a last ditch effort on their behalf. At some point in their lives all of them will call the pastor to express their gratitude for Shiloh. Even those who didn't learn the lesson or couldn't stay will say they're grateful for what they learned and sorry for what they chose not to learn.
Bob and I are nearing 51 years of marriage. We have two fantastic sons, two daughters-in-law that we love enough to call daughters, five wonderful grandchildren, including our granddaughter-in-law, and a precious great grandson. God has blessed us so very richly with every one of them. We reared our sons to do even better than their parents and they've done it, making us proud as well as grateful. At times, their astuteness and intelligence amazes us. When Mark got his first big promotion, Bob asked, "How'd you get so smart?" He was joking-maybe. When Dan's family visited, I was amazed at how beautifully he conversed with his 18 year old son.
After the boys left home, our empty nest continued to be filled with love and laughter, just enjoying each other. Something that was often interrupted with two rowdy boys, a variety of pets, and a myriad of moves to contend with. The moves continued, but that gave us just each other to cling to in a new environment. Until we got Sheila 6 1/2 years ago. I can't say I'm sorry we went 23 years without a pet, but our "caustie" (an expensive cross between Cocker Spaniel and Australian Shepherd) has brought so much laughter to us. At the moment, she's scratching my arm, telling me it's time to pay attention to her, so suffice it to say, words fail in expressing my gratitude for all the blessings I've received the past 71 years.
Blessings to you, too.
Wednesday, November 26, 2014
OOPS-again
Yesterday, as I read I Peter 2, somehow I got it in my mind that God was calling us precious in verses, but on a more careful examination of those verses this morning, I realized my error. In both cases, God the Father is calling Jesus the living Stone as precious.
I'm not disappointed, just embarrassed. Taking a verse out of context, such as was recently done by our President is one thing, but misunderstanding can be just as bad. And, so, to my one follower, I apologize.
I'm not disappointed because my search of the Scriptures over a one year period gave me 43 double columned pages that told me God loves us, cares for us, and is worthy of our love, obedience, and worship. It was during that time of study that I came across Zephaniah 3:17. I'd seen part of that verse quoted on many occasions-the part that says He rejoices over us with singing. It was the fact that He quiets me with His love that grabbed my heart and has held it fast for the past 18 months. That verse is quoted in every book I autograph. It's often been said that the best way to tell others about Jesus is to tell what He's done for me. I want others to know He wants to do the same for them.
I'm not disappointed, just embarrassed. Taking a verse out of context, such as was recently done by our President is one thing, but misunderstanding can be just as bad. And, so, to my one follower, I apologize.
I'm not disappointed because my search of the Scriptures over a one year period gave me 43 double columned pages that told me God loves us, cares for us, and is worthy of our love, obedience, and worship. It was during that time of study that I came across Zephaniah 3:17. I'd seen part of that verse quoted on many occasions-the part that says He rejoices over us with singing. It was the fact that He quiets me with His love that grabbed my heart and has held it fast for the past 18 months. That verse is quoted in every book I autograph. It's often been said that the best way to tell others about Jesus is to tell what He's done for me. I want others to know He wants to do the same for them.
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