Laissez Faire

Given the financial situation at church, I've been thinking for the last several years about the need to make money. And of course, being church's budget-planning time of year, that causes money-thoughts to be more in the forefront of my musings and our conversations here. Thus, thoughts of employment and/or starting a business are once again making their annual autumn trek through my thoughts.

There's one business I would love to start, but it would involve a huge capital investment. Furthermore, it would involve a kiosk at the mall (an hour away), which means long long hours away from home, daily. It also would involve immersing myself into learning all sorts of things about business regulations, accounting, taxes, payrolls, etc etc. And I just don't have time for that. I'd rather be poor. :-)

The most reasonable thing for me to do would be to cook or to cater or to sell kombucha. I planned one summer to sell bread at the farm market, but it turned out that I had to have the government overseeing my kitchen. Kombucha costs a fortune in the store, and it would be easy enough for me to make and bottle and distribute through a couple of health food stores. But any time food is involved, there's government involvement in their attempts to protect the public. I suppose I could look into the laws, and obtain stockpiles of latex gloves for whenever we touched anything to do with food, and buy the sterilization equipment, and pay some laboratory to analyze the food for nutrition content so that we could comply with labeling laws. But those regulations are a huge hurdle. If a business were merely a matter of doing the work, doing it well and safely with intent to serve the neighbor and make a little money to help feed my family, that would be entirely reasonable. But it's not good enough today in our big-government, litigacious society. Today businesses must comply with innumerable laws and regulations and tax code. And that's enough to chase the idea out of my head. Maybe I'm just a wuss. Or maybe it's that the housewifey stuff is just higher priority. But I sure do have admiration for the people who are strong enough to dive in to starting businesses even in the face of the govt's desire to micro-manage.

Inclusive Language

I started looking at TLH hymns last night, and which ones were kept in LSB, and which ones were changed significantly. One of the things that struck me was the amount of inclusive language that was popped-in here and there. But somehow, most of it is relatively innocuous. There are a lot of places where "He" is replaced by "God." But not everywhere, like is done in hymnals in some of those rabidly feminist denominations. I even found one place where "Creator" was replaced by "our Father" which is definitely going the wrong direction from the politically-correct crowd. There are a lot of places where "mankind" is replaced by "people." I guess that's not so bad. The one that bugs me a little more is when the change is from "sons of God" to "children of God." That has a little more theological import. Jesus is the Son of God; we are in Him; we (girls included) are thus sons of God.

Murder by Handgun

Milwaukee talk-show host Charlie Sykes is talking this morning about the girl who aborted her own baby. Early in the pregnancy, she couldn't afford an abortion. So when she was about 9 months along, she shot herself in the belly with a handgun. The baby died.

Now, a lot of things could be discussed. Abortion. The value of life. Depression. Society's shock (!) when a person behaves consistently with a lesson we've been diligently teaching. How judges and juries should respond when the law is clearly wrong. But I'm going to try to refrain from discussing these things, other than at the dinner table.

But Charlie made one very interesting point. This is one case where the liberals will not be against handguns.

Yarmulke

A man showed up at the door of the parsonage today, looking for "Pastor." That's not usual. Most people are looking for "Mr Somebody" or "Pastor Gary" or "your husband." But this man politely asked for the pastor. I was kind of taken aback because he was wearing a yarmulke. We've occasionally had Mormons and JWs show up, but never had Jews show up to proselytize.

Turned out he wasn't on evangelistic duty. He was the new Quill salesman. He found the door of the church locked, so was checking out the parsonage to find the pastor.

I was impressed. He was very respectful toward the Office of the Ministry.

My youngest son was impressed. He'd never seen a yarmulke in real life -- just in the movies.

My husband was impressed. When they were done talking, he offered to take the man to the parking lot through the direct route, which would've involved walking in the nave, seeing as how our church is only one room, one huge room. (Well, except for the bathrooms.) But the man didn't want to walk through the holy space just to take a shorter (and warmer) path to his car.

Can we sign this guy up to give lessons in reverent behavior???

What Could've Gone into LSB from ELH

Chris wrote -- "... which hymns I need to make sure to incorporate in the future. If I don't know which ones they are I just might get used to living without them."

Christopher's comment piqued my interest. I knew it would be a much smaller job to look at Evangelical Lutheran Hymnary than to look at The Lutheran Hymnal. So I buzzed through ELH tonight while the rest of the family was watching Simpsons. :-)

These are the hymns that I think really really oughtn't be missed from ELH:
#484 Christ Alone Is Our Salvation
#272 O Sinner, Come, Thy Sin to Mourn

also high-priority (but not as completely absolutely necessary)
#129 I Stand Beside Thy Manger Here
#150 In This Our Happy Christmastide
#70 I See Thee Standing, Lamb of God.


Some stanzas that are missing in TLH and LSB that are available in ELH:
#43 Holy God, We Praise Thy Name
#182 One Thing's Needful (especially stanza 8 in ELH!!)
#226 By Grace I'm Saved (particularly the last stanza in ELH)
#227 Salvation Unto Us Is Come
#505 Thou Who the Night in Prayer Didst Spend
#539 Jerusalem, My Happy Home.


And some hymns in ELH that I really ought to take the time to learn, but I don't know when I'll get to it, given that we never sing them in church or use them for family or church devotions:
#95 (an Advent hymn)
#79 (a take-off on Luther's morning prayer)

also #62, 208, 220, 229, 312, 405, 430, 437, and 498.


This is, of course, my opinion only. I am not very familiar with ELH nor with the Scandinavian poets and hymnists. So I may very well be missing things that Rolf Preus would shudder over.

I'll get to looking through the MUST-KEEP LIST from TLH that didn't make it into LSB. I don't know when. But I will get to it "soon." (Taking into account, of course, that being a mommy, I consider a 3- or 4-hour project to be an all-day commitment!) If I remember correctly from when the hymnody committee was taking comments from the public, everything on the MUST-KEEP LIST from LW actually was on the keeper-list! Hooray for that!

Kids Stirring

The trick of turning good gumbo into great gumbo is stirring the roux for a long long time. Ideally, I like to keep the roux cooking for 30 minutes on low (which is why we usually have good gumbo instead of great gumbo), letting the flour get nice and dark brown. But it needs to be stirred, and the bottom of the pot needs to be scraped constantly, so that the flour doesn't burn on to the bottom, but just gets nice and crusty brown on the outside of the celery and peppers and onions.

"Yoo hoo. I need a kid to come stir for me while I pick the stewed chicken meat off the bones."

Obedient child comes traipsing into the kitchen to help with dinner. Hooray!

WHY, though, do these people not understand that "stirring" does not mean simply moving the contents of the pot around a little bit, but that the important part of stirring is keeping the contents of the pot from sticking to the bottom of the pot and eventually burning???

I keep thinking "when will they learn?!?" And yet, when will I learn that I should know by now that they won't remember, and thus I should nag .... I mean, remind them every single time?

Dobby on "Freedom of a Christian"

Pr Stuckwisch's favorite line in the sixth book of Harry Potter is at the climax, when Malfoy is threatening to kill Dumbledore, and says, "You're at my mercy." Dumbledore responds, "No, Draco, it is my mercy, and not yours, that matters now." That line is precious. But one I like as much (or better) is at the end of chapter 19, when Harry sent Kreacher and Dobby off to spy on Malfoy.

For those of you who don't know the story, Kreacher is a house-elf (servant). He used to belong to one of the evil families who supported the Dark Lord. But after a few deaths and inheritances, he ended up as the property of Harry, bound to obey his master. However, Harry is the one who the prophecy declares will destroy the Dark Lord. Kreacher murmurs and complains about his awful new master. Dobby, on the other hand, used to be a miserable house-elf for another evil family who supports the Dark Lord. Through a little trickery, Harry managed to get Dobby's master to free him from slavery. Dobby loved Harry while he was still in bondage, and loves Harry even more now that he is free. Now that that's established, back to the quote.

Harry wanted Kreacher to spy on Dobby's former master. Kreacher of course went quite grudgingly. Dobby wanted to go too. He didn't think Kreacher would do a good enough job. Dobby's response made me think of the second half of Romans 6. It made me think of what Pastor has said about Mary Magdalene being freed by Jesus, and how she didn't use her freedom to return to her previous employment.



Harry said, "Dobby, I know I'm not allowed to give you orders...."

"Dobby is a free house-elf and he can obey anyone he likes and Dobby will do whatever Harry Potter wants him to do!" said Dobby, tears now streaming down his shrivelled little face onto his jumper.


:-) Isn't that just a nifty example of "you are not under law"?

My Day in this Parsonage

I love it that I can fill an empty gas tank in my car for less than $30!

My son is filling out applications for employment in Japan. It would be good for his acquisition of fluency in Japanese. It would be a good career move. And all I can think is that it's hard enough to find a good church in America, so how will he ever find one in Japan?

I wonder if y'all have heard of "Smart Chicken." The organic birds are about double the price of regular chicken. However, the stuff that's not organic free-range chicken costs only about 20% more than the regular chicken at the store. But it's not injected with liquids. The chicken is raised without antibiotics. The chicken is not fed animal by-products. And it comes chilled but not frozen. I simply can't afford the organic ones, but the plain ol' Smart Chicken just seems like a good plan. If mosts of the chickens and turkeys are regularly injected with broth solutions that make up 1/6 or more of the weight, then Smart Chicken actually costs about the same. But the chicken is a lot healthier, for essentially the same price. "Ask for it at your grocery store." :-) I now have twelve leg quarters cooking in the crockpot for a humongo pot of gumbo tomorrow. Ummmmm.

The church voters assembly met on Sunday. They discussed the need for the parsonage to be painted. Last time they painted, they trampled all my flowers around the house. Some recovered the following year. But many were killed good-n-dead. How do you tell volunteers who want to hurry and get a job done that they ought to be careful of your plants? After all, it's their house, not mine. It's their responsibility to paint, not mine. If I want the job done right, I should be willing to do it myself. But I'm not willing. But I know the roses and the hostas and the asparagus and the sedum are doomed.

The trustees also looked into getting a rust filter for the well water. The voters approved using last year's profits from the turkey dinner for a good filter system. That means that our underwear will no longer be orangey-pink. That means that when we clean the rust out of the toilet, the red stripes in the bowl won't be back in less than 24 hours. That means that I can actually wash the altar linens and purificators, and not have them come out grungier than when I took them off the altar. That means that I won't have sulfur odors wafting through the house whenever we open up the faucets after having them off for several hours. Pretty cool!

Although Lutheran Service Book has all sorts of great things in it, I just can't get over the loss of some of the really good hymns. The stanzas they left out of "O Lord, How Shall I Meet Thee" and "Jesus, Thy Boundless Love to Me." The translation changes in "Lord Jesus Christ, Thou Living Bread" and "Lord Jesus Christ, With Us Abide" and "From God Shall Naught Divide Me." The ones that got left out altogether ("I Will Sing My Maker's Praises" and "To Shepherds as They Watched by Night") are almost better, because we can still get them out of TLH. For some reason, these things just have me immensely sad today.

But, for good news, my dad came home from the hospital on Sunday. Things are going well at home. Test results confirm that the mass removed was malignant, but (yeehaw!) was encapsulated and had not spread at all. They expect that he should not need radiation or chemo.

We went to the last two hours of the live broadcast of "Issues Etc" yesterday. I couldn't believe how the time flew! I thought they were taking a quarter-hour break, and it turned out it was the half-hour break. (That's what I get for not wearing a watch....) For the last half-hour of the broadcast, Nathan's prof was on, and Nathan and his roommate from freshman year were also on the show. They didn't get a chance to say too much, but I thought it was pretty nifty nonetheless.

Connections

The video series Connections by James Burke is one of the things I require of the kids for their high-school work. I'm on my fourth or fifth time through this series, and every time I love it more. My husband, teens, and I watched the second mystery in the history/science series this afternoon. There are 10 one-hour videos in the series, each gathering the scientific and technological developments through history (and luck) that went into something that is common to us today. And most of the developments seem to be quite unrelated to the invention that comes together in the end of each show. Granted, the series is $150, but if you can't get this at your library, I can't think of any homeschool expense that would bring comparable benefits. It's worth it. Within the last month, some of us were discussing what "classical education" is, and one of the points someone made was about the interconnectedness of the disciplines, and how our studies shouldn't be about "subjects." This video series exemplifies that connectedness beautifully! And Mr Burke is quite witty too!

Brownies

Maggie's been asking to make brownies for several days. This morning I finally relented. She looked at the recipe: "2 cups sugar." She wanted to know what that meant. Good grief.... I was about ready to call off the baking! But then she explained that she wanted to know what kind of sugar: brown or the regular white or the powdery white or what? I told her that "sugar" means the white regular sugar that's in the canister on the counter, unless the recipe specifies otherwise.

But then I had a second thought. The best fudge recipe in the world is a pretty standard recipe, but made with brown sugar instead of white. It imparts a bit of a caramely taste to the fudge. (And of course anything chocolate is improved by adding caramel!) What if we tried making the brownies with brown sugar instead of white?

The experiment turned out deliciously delightful. I'd encourage anybody to try it. Especially Glenda.

And while I'm on the subject of food,...
I noticed Marie's blog last week was waxing eloquent over whipped parsnips. She put me in the frame of mind where I start drooling over recipe ideas. My stroganoff was already simmering and the potatoes were boiling prior to being mashed. I started to think of the zucchini sitting in the fridge. I tell ya, I've had so many compliments on my zucchini. And all I do is saute it in olive oil, and then add a little salt, pepper, garlic, and sometimes parmesan. I think it's the olive oil that does it. Zucchini always used to strike me as one of those bland ol' things that you had to eat sometimes. But now I could eat two platefuls for supper and forget the rest of the meal. Ah, food is such a wonderful thing!

Back Home; the Nunc Dimittis

Dad's home from the hospital! Wooohooo! He'll be a lot happier at home. Interesting how my mom and my sister-in-law were saying that it's kinda nice to be in the hospital, having them bring your meals, with no laundry or dishes to do; also, not wanting to get home too early, but wanting to wait until you knew for sure your body was doing okay before leaving the doctors and nurses. But I'm more like Dad -- I want to bust on outta there as soon as possible.

Sitting in the hospital the last couple of days, I realized that sudokus make an excellent distraction. They can very easily be interrupted and picked up again later, unlike books or editing. I also realized that I'm going to have to be diligent about getting out to jog while Maggie's in the hospital; it's too easy to stay there with the patient all day, just wanting to be near and know everything that's happening.

Issues Etc is broadcasting live from Milwaukee tonight and tomorrow afternoon. I had wanted to take the kids to Shorewood tonight for the show. I thought it would be educational, and fun too. But I got up this morning at 5 (not my best time of day!) and drove back home from my parents', even getting here with time to jog and shower before church. I'm thinking that going to the city, with plans to get home at 1:00 a.m., would not be tremendously wise. However, tomorrow they're broadcasting from Mequon. The 4:00 hour is on justification. Seeing as how I've begged a few times for a local repeat of the Justification Seminar that was presented last May in California, I'm thinking that it might be good to go for that hour of Issues. Also, Nathan's favorite prof has the last half-hour of the show, and I've been wanting to meet him or at least hear him speak.

For the last year or so, one of Pastor's emphases has been on "according to Scripture." Like in the Creed: "rose again according to the Scriptures." And how that's got to do with what the Old Testament said about the Messiah, and not merely what is recorded in the Gospels. Today I noticed in the post-communion canticle that Simeon said something similar. "Lord, now let Your servant depart in peace according to Your word." For some reason, I particularly liked that today. The ending of the confessional rite is:

The God of peace Himself will sanctify you wholly and keep your spirit, soul, and body sound and blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. He who called you is faithful and He will do it. Go in peace.

And there are the words prior to the Agnus Dei: "the peace of the Lord be with you always." And the words at the end of the sermon: "the peace of God which passes all understanding keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus." Even back at the start of the service: "Glory be to God on high, and on earth, peace, goodwill toward men."

After all those many declarations of peace throughout the Service, we respond with "all righty, You SAID that You were giving peace, now I'm holding You to Your word. Let it be done for me according to Your word. The peace is what You promised. Amen, amen, yes, yes, it shall be so."

Private Hospital Rooms

The kids and I recently began reading Farewell to Manzanar, a book about the relocation of Japanese-Americans during WWII. The Wakatasuki family managed to keep the family together on the buses headed out to the concentration camps, and also managed to snag a unit of one of the barracks for their family. However, the family was too big to all fit in one unit, so one of the married daughters and her husband ended up with strangers (as did nearly everyone else in the concentration camp). On Thursday, we were reading about the difficulty of that lack of privacy for them and how desperate the couple was to find something –anything-- that would get them out of the situation of living with strangers.

Friday I drove down to my hometown to sit with Dad in the hospital while Mom went to a funeral and the sibs were at work. For the first three days of his recuperation from surgery, Dad hadn’t exactly been being a very patient patient. (Incidentally, things were MUCH improved by the time I arrived.)

During the day I began to realize how very nice it is to have a private room in the hospital. When Maggie has been hospitalized she always had a private room except for the first ICU (in Madison) where there was a huge amount of space between beds due to all the ICU equipment. When I was in the hospital having babies, I didn’t have roommates. (One time, the whole maternity ward had been closed for over a week, and they had to open it up and call in staff for me and baby Paul.) When my friend Steve was in the hospital, there was never a roommate with him when I visited.

To share a room (especially a small room) with a stranger, that makes the whole experience a little different. There are two tv’s running. There are two sets of conversations. You know that whatever the therapist says to you is heard by the other patient and his family. You know that the conversations with visitors are being overheard. The amount of noise or amount of light in the room is something to take into account for the other person. If you want to pray or sing, you wonder how that’s going to affect the other patient. If the other patient has a potty mouth, that’s affecting you.

I know that hospitals used to have wards, and I used to think that semi-private rooms were an unnecessary luxury. But in my old age now, getting cranky and used to my privacy, I’m really glad that next month in Milwaukee I know we’ll have the luxury of a private room for Mags. Boy, I am spoiled rotten.

Luke 8

I was editing Pr Fabrizius's volume on Luke this morning. One of the questions was about the woman with the continual flow of blood spending "all her livelihood" on physicians. I got distracted from verb tenses and commas, and thought about that phrase. Interestingly (at least, interesting to me), the father of the prodigal son also divided out his "livelihood."

That woman spent all her money. And what good did it do? No good for her. But her expenditures served a purpose in teaching us something about Jesus. Her expenditures thus served me. The father in Luke 15 sacrificed his "bios" (Greek word for "life" or "livelihood"). The woman couldn't buy health. The prodigal father gave to his son who wasted it. But it was all for the purpose of showing us the compassionate heart of the only One who can give forgiveness of sin, and thus also give health and life.

And being a hymn addict, I couldn't help but think of Rist's
"Lo, stained with blood,
the Lamb of God, the Bridegroom,
lies before thee,
pouring out His life that He may to life restore thee."

Granted, it's not the same word "life," but I like the thought nevertheless.

And then the other thing I noticed was something connected to the earlier part of the chapter. The woman with the flow of blood saw (in verse 47) that "she was not hidden." Those same words were used in verses 16-17. What is secret will be revealed; anything hidden will come to light. When she found that she was not hidden, she came to Jesus in fear, love, and trust, and worshiped before Him, confessing her faith in Him, confessing that He is the One who heals all ills, confessing that she wanted what He had to give. Her faith was in Jesus, and He made her well. And this is not hidden from the people around her, nor hidden from us ... because it points us to the lamp (Ps 119:105 and John 1) who is held up on the cross to bring light to the whole world (Is 60).

Tying Up Loose Ends

The centipede infestation continues unabated. Neighbors have told us they're having the same problem, so it must be something with the weather or the crop-harvesting. Poor Andrew -- he doesn't tend to be bothered by bugs, but centipedes just gross him out, and he's been talking frequently about moving away from this house! Like, NOW!

The guy who left the political yardsign in our front yard still has not been back to retrieve his sign. This amuses me.

The road hazard that I encountered on Sept 25 did some damage after all. The tires made it through, apparently unscathed. But the "flex pipe" going from the engine to the exhaust system had a gash in it. The last week I've been driving around sounding like a hot-rodder. Didn't bother to make an appt for fixing it because of plans to be in Milwaukee. So a phone call to the mechanic was one of the first orders of business when we got home on Monday afternoon. When we picked it up today, it wasn't even that terrible a bill! Hooray!

And for those of you who have asked about the hog's head, it is all taken care of. It was boiled for hours and hours yesterday in a huge pot, bigger than a water-bath canner. When Philip came home from work, he began taking the meat off. We didn't like it. He ended up throwing the meat out. I don't know if the icky flavor was due to the head having been roasted on the spit with the rest of the piggy, or if it was because of being boiled with all the other "stuff" that comes with a head (teeth, eyes, skin, etc) instead of just bone, fat, and meat.

When I was checking at one point to determine whether it was done, I reached into the pot and grabbed something that turned out not to be muscle. Oops, I yanked a tooth out of the jawbone. I didn't know if I had ruined something Philip would want, so I left the tooth on the counter. Maggie thought that was interesting, as on the previous day she'd just had a discussion about her loose tooth and that the doctor might have to pull it prior to intubation. (By the way, the tooth fairy does know to visit hospital patients under those circumstances -- so declares the nurse-practioner.)

Well, anyway, regardless of the flavor of the meat, Philip still wanted the bones. So last night he was picking apart this skull. "Oooooh, Mom, you gotta see the soft palate on this animal! Isn't it interesting?" (I hate to admit it, but it was pretty. It had a pattern that would make a very nice floor tile or wall paper.) "Hey, mom, I've got the eyeball. You wanna see?" "NO!!!" (I get really creeped out by eyeballs. And some people actually dissect sheep eyeballs for homeschool science. Yuck!) At this point, I figured it was time for me to get out of range of hearing Philip's discoveries.

I don't know where this skull is now. Maybe it boiled too long and crumbled. We can only hope.

Incense

I put the chicken in to broil for dinner about 10 minutes ago. And now I'm smelling "church." This is weird. I wonder if there's rosemary in incense. My kitchen smells like Zion Detroit and Redeemer Ft Wayne.

Hospital Update

Surgery has been rescheduled for the Tuesday after Thanksgiving.

That's seven weeks away.

We've already been waiting eight weeks. But I understood the delay there. The cardiologist said they were trying to get all the school-kids' surgeries done before classes started in September. They had to wait for an open slot on the MRI. They had to analyze the MRI results and discuss them. Then they had to schedule a place in OR for Maggie. But now it's seven more. And Maggie's grown an inch taller and 13 pounds heavier since the August cardiology appt. If she's growing faster, that's all the quicker she's outgrowing her pulmonary artery which she'd already outgrown 18 months ago. But the cardiologist says she'll be okay waiting until the end of next month. I hope he's right.

The cardio-thoracic surgeon "should" be scheduled for one surgery a day. He can do two in a crisis. He's scheduled for two a day, every day through the end of this month. He has some days he's scheduled to be out of town in November. The nurse said we could request "second slot" on Nov 14, 15, or 16. But she said the likelihood of getting bumped again was not insignificant. She said we would be scheduled for the morning surgery if we opted for Nov 28 or 29. She also said that the likelihood of getting bumped again then would be minimal; only the desperate people schedule surgery between Thanksgiving and Christmas. If we're stuck waiting seven more weeks, we're hoping that at least we can look forward to the surgeon having had some days off and little bit of a rest from his currently crazy schedule.

Somehow, though, I just can't believe we won't get bumped again. I have no confidence whatsoever that we'll go in at the end of November and actually stay for the operation. Either the doctor's schedule or Maggie's health could interfere with the planned date. Beyond the emotional preparation and the logistics of who's living where when and eating where when, and getting subs for work, there's the financial situation. The deductible is already paid this year, and so is most of the co-insurance. If this hospital stay spills over into January, it's going to cost us an extra $1800. (There I go, fretting again. I suppose I could get out Luther's devotions from a couple of weeks ago, the week the Gospel was on Matthew 6.)

It is utterly amazing to me how tired we are from the change in plans. And I'm rather disgusted with myself. I keep thinking how inconvenient this is for me, how this is going to mess up our December, how I have to get back into the swing of everyday life and school and work. Goodness gracious -- there are little babies whose lives depend on having access to that surgeon today. And all I can think is how this change in plans disrupts our lives. That is astoundingly selfish. (Not that such a realization changes my selfishness....)

Maggie has been completely satisfied with the change of plans. Initially she wasn't. But when her friend Mary found out that surgery was canceled, her first comment was "then Maggie will be able to come to my slumber party after all." And so it is arranged that the girls will get together this Friday, and in the Land of Eleven-Yr-Olds, all is well.

Genesis 1:28 + Genesis 3:16-19

Pastor was talking about the curse of the fall the other day. The curse of the fall is the sorrow women have in motherhood and their desire to usurp the husband's office, as well as that the ground is cursed and work is hard and that we will die. He asked how that is related to who God made us to be. (We didn't catch on as fast as he wished.)

He pointed us to God's "prime directive" given to Adam and Eve: have babies, and exercise dominion over the earth. The curse strikes right at the heart of those two things for men and for women. So the curse isn't some tangential thing. It is entirely caught up in who we are and what we have been made to do.

How come it's so obvious when he says it, but I'd never ever figure it out without being told???

The Power of the Packers

Driving home from errands today, I didn't even notice the sign at the smut house around the corner. I noticed that I didn't notice ["huh?!?" they say] because somebody turned into the driveway of the strip joint. When I have to slow down on the highway to avoid hitting one of those prurient jerks, I can't help but think "loser!"

The incident reminded me that last week I did notice the sign at the smut house. It was flashing (something the sign seldom does). It had huge bold letters, screaming at us, to try to draw in more customers. Usually the sign tells us when happy hour is, how many girls are dancing that night, whether the bar is serving hot wings or popcorn, important information like that. But last week, the humongous sign at the strip joint flashed:

Watch the Packers Game Here Tonight!

Somehow, I thought that said something about Wisconsin and their Packer mania.

Writing Assignments

Writing is one of the things the kids are supposed to do for schoolwork. The older four didn't have as much trouble coming up with things to write about as Kid#5 does. So I finally decided that I'm just going to have to be diligent about making a list of ideas for him and append it to his school to-do list. In case anybody else is short of ideas, here are some that we're using this week. (I took many of them from "Do It Later: A 2007 Planner (or Non-Planner) for the Creative Procrastinator." I bought the book because it was so fun to read. But now I'm finding it full of ideas of projects that a bored homeschooled kid might find himself doing instead of reading comic books!)


Most importantly, write about what you read for science, history, or literature. Or something that happened recently at home, at Smiles, in the news, on errands, etc.

Other ideas might be –
Write about what you’d do with the money if you won the lottery.
Tell about the kinds of trees in your yard.
Make a list of possible New Year’s Resolutions: realistic ones and idealistic ones.
Make a list of things you’re glad you’re not allergic to.
Write about the benefits (and maybe down-sides?) of having a to-do list.
Tell about your friends who live in other states.
Write about your favorite candies.
What season is best and why?
What jobs would you never take, even if you were dirt poor?

Hospital Update

Surgery is canceled. The nurse will call later today and reschedule, probably for November they told us. The doctor did lots of heart transplants this summer, which pushed back some of the "regular" surgeries into fall. A week ago, NINE babies were born that needed immediate corrective surgery. Maggie was scheduled for 7:30 tomorrow morning, and when we started pre-op procedures they told us she had been pushed back to 3:30 in the afternoon. But before we got to EKG and blood draws and X-ray, another call came in with the need for the doctor to handle another emergency of a baby born this morning. Since Maggie is by far the healthiest of the ones needing surgery, she stays at the end of the line.

We found out during pre-op today that they anticipate Maggie being in for about a week. Possible that it could be a day or two less, possible that it could be longer. But they said planning for a week would be reasonable. Also, they hope to take out the breathing tube and have her wake up the same day as the surgery. For her last open-heart, she was drugged for over four days to keep her asleep, and still had the breathing tube for a few days after waking up.

It's an odd feeling to be sent home. Kinda disappointing, and it shouldn't be. We had the arrangements made -- the food taken care of for the ones at home and the ones at the hospital, errands re-arranged, Ronald McDonald House reservations, work schedules adjusted, etc. And now we just come home and go on with life, and go through all those arrangements again in a few weeks. I think the weird "let down" feeling is probably due to the desire to be in control and to know what's coming up next. Even if what's coming up next isn't such a good thing, people still seem a little more settled if our expectations aren't pulled out from under us.

Well, back to schoolwork and housekeeping and cooking. And we'll try this surgery thing again in a few more weeks. They did tell us that they try never to reschedule a second time, knowing how rescheduling throws a huge kink into people's lives and plans.

Acts 8:2

The Rev Dr Stephen Wiest entered eternal glory on October 4, 2003. Three years ago today we buried him. "And devout men carried Stephen to his burial, and made great lamentation over him."

Reformation Bloodshed

Last night, a couple of us were at a Mission Festival in Greenfield. Pr Fehrmann preached. I did listen to the sermon; really, I did. But one comment caught and diverted my attention for a while. He mentioned what happens when the Church's message begins to shift back to where it's supposed to be. When the Church gets away from preaching repentance and the forgiveness of sins, when the Church toddles into other areas like preaching morality instead of forgiveness, a return to the message of forgiveness of sins is always accompanied by bloodshed. Think of what's happened throughout history. As long as the Church focuses on morality, the persecution is not strong. But when the focus returns to forgiving sinners, things get uncomfortable in the Church; there are arguments and fighting; yes, even bloodshed.

It makes me realize that what's happening among American Lutherans today is minor. Pastors may not be getting paid all the time. Pastors may be getting fired. Pastors may be getting in trouble with the church bureaucracy. But people aren't going to jail or getting killed. We really have it pretty easy.



Suddenly today, my computer righted itself with regard to posting on blogger. My icons for the bolding and italics and hyperlinks magically returned. I suppose that means I should try again to figure out how to post pictures. But first I would need to figure out how to look at digital pictures on the computer. One step at a time....

And taking that cliche and making it literal... it really is necessary to take one step at a time -- broom in hand -- in the basement these days. The centipede infestation continues. Every time I change a load of laundry I have to sweep the floor. Then an hour later, when I head back to the laundry room again, the floor is littered with centipedes. If I don't sweep them up before I fold each load, I crunch every time I move my feet. A couple of days of this is one thing, but it's starting to get a little gross.

And on a more serious and ponderous note, I'm putting a post on the Mouthhouse Moms blog regarding kids growing up. Katie's car accident and Jane's recent blog post and the arrival of Saranita got me to thinking.

Hospital Update

This child is still snotty-nosed and coughing. Still no fever. If we're leaving for a week, we need to spend tomorrow afternoon packing. But at this point, we don't know what things will look like Monday morning and whether surgery will remain scheduled for Tuesday or not.

"Not knowing" is always so wearying. Are the kids keeping house next week for themselves or not? If we're going to be in the city, will it be for 4 days or 12? Do we have a place to stay at the Ronald McDonald House, or will we be staying with friends who are 20 minutes from the hospital? And when will we even know? I'm not sure we'll know until Monday lunchtime what next week's plan are. This drives me nuts.

That Slick-Fella's Yardsign

Well, my husband mentioned to the church council what had happened with regard to the candidate's yardsign on the church property. They all thought it was pretty rotten of him to do that, but they decided that nothing should be done other than phoning him and asking him not to do it again. So my husband did, and the man asked if he could come pick up the sign. My husband warned him that he will probably have to face an irritated woman when he comes to fetch the sign. :-) He was supposed to have come on Monday or Tuesday, and he hasn't shown up yet.

So on Monday I called the county clerk, the state elections board, and the sheriff's office, asking about the rules regarding signs. Two things amazed me. First, it seems generally agreed upon that candidates aren't supposed to place signs without asking permission, but apparently it's not a "rule." However, what seems much clearer than placement of yardsigns is that no one is supposed to remove a yardsign. The elections board even said that I should call the police and have them remove the sign rather than taking it down myself. Second thing that surprised me was that the suggested recourse (from both the elections board and the sheriff's office) was to charge the man with trespassing.

Doesn't having a guy arrested for trespassing seem a bit like overkill? I think people should know about his sleazy campaign practices, but having him arrested seems like it's going a bit too far.

I was stunned by how many people told me that it's "only common courtesy" to give the sign back. (I did find out, however, that the law does not require me to give it back.) Everyone who told me about "courtesy," though, seemed oblivious to the fact that the candidate hadn't used common courtesy in asking if he could put a sign in the neighbor's yard. And he didn't have common courtesy to honor my instructions that there be no sign in my yard. I guess they think that I should respond with common courtesy no matter what he does. I suppose that's why fathers aren't supposed to shoot intruders who drop through their ceilings in the middle of the night [see "Guns in the Home" from Sept 27]. I bet these are adults who scold a little child when he grabs his toy back from the bully.

Another thing that bothered me about the conversations is the general acceptance of the idea that we should never take matters into our own hands. We should call the police and have them take the sign down, have the police return the sign to the candidate, but WE ought never be so bold as to take down a sign ourselves, even if it was put in our own yard after we said "you can't do that." I was told a similar thing once before by police, when I was reported to police for making a child leave our property when she'd been vandalizing us. The policeman knew who the trouble-maker was in that incident, but he also knew the way the law worked, and he advised us always to call the police to handle even the smallest incidents. This country is going to go broke on trying to buy enough law-enforcement.

A Hog's Head?

Son phones from work. Oh, no, panic time. This week he's learning to solder and he's already given himself a couple of minor burns.

No, it's okay. The phone call isn't about injuries.

"Mom, do you have any idea of what to do with a hog's head?"

I didn't know what was behind that question.

"Well, they are having a contest at work."

I assumed this was a contest for creative ideas of what to do with a hog's head. In a lovely fit of community spirit, the company bought one of the hogs at the county fair last month. They roasted the victim today and treated the employees to dinner.

I proceeded to explain that some people make head cheese.

"Well, ummm, I won it."

He won WHAT?

"The hog's head. They had a raffle for it, and I won. Turns out I was the only one who entered. I figured if anyone knew what to do with the head of a pig, my mother would."

Hmmm. I think that might've been a compliment.
It's hard to know for sure.

I'm certainly not surprised that he's the only one who entered the raffle.

I guess tomorrow we'll be boiling the head until we get the meat to fall off, and we'll throw some barbecue sauce on it, and have sandwiches. Any other suggestions? I sure don't have time to mess with anything complicated when we're getting ready to leave for a week or two on Monday morning.

Hospital Update

Three and a half days to pre-op, and this kid has a runny nose and froggy throat. I hope it's allergies. We haven't been good about taking the dietary enzymes with meals the last week. I've noticed my allergies have started acting up without the enzymes, and it's reasonable that hers might be too. I've started putting zinc and C and raw garlic and echinacea into her, along with a renewed commitment to the enzymes. Boy, I wonder how long it would have to be put off if we have to reschedule surgery because of a cold. At least there's no fever. Yet.

Tolerance of False Doctrine

For years I had a really hard time with the fact that so much false teaching is allowed to go unchecked in our church body. But in the last few years, Pastor has helped me understand that we believe in the "holy Christian Church" as we state in the Creed. We don't see the holiness of the Church. As individual Christians are weighed down by sin, so are church bodies. We are, individually, declared pure and righteous for the sake of Christ; so too our church is declared pure, and we don't experience its purity yet. I've had dear friends contemplating leaving the Lutheran church because it's not pure enough. So when I read Rev Rolf Preus's comments recently, I agreed completely and wanted to pass them along. I found this at Beggars All dated October 2.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The LCMS permits false teachers. You will likely not be removed from the LCMS if you promote false doctrine. It happens, but rarely. Paul Bretcher denied the deity of Christ. It took a while, but he was removed. Benke is made into a folk hero and his supporters claim to represent the true position of the LCMS.

On the other hand, the W/ELS will remove pastors for teaching the truth. The failure to submit to the doctrinal authority of the synod as synod is grounds for removal and the breaking of fellowship. Those who express fellowship with those removed are themselves threatened with the breaking of fellowship. This is the real "unit concept" at work.

Independent congregations develop strange and sectarian tendencies in a very short time. Pastors and congregations need mutual support and encouragement from other pastors and congregations devoted to the same truth.

Little synods that break away also become quite sectarian. Witness the self-destruction of the LCR as confessionally grounded pastors are hounded out of the fellowship for daring to apply what the Lutheran Confessions actually say to the life of the church.

How to set boundaries? It's a never ending task. I offer no solutions, just the problems we face. I've been in a synod that tolerates error while officially teaching the truth. I've been in a synod that exercises discipline on the basis of extra-biblical authority. I believe that it is better to permit the guilty to remain free than it is to convict the innocent. Call me a liberal. They say that a conservative is a liberal who just got mugged. Well, a liberal is a conservative who just got arrested. When you face unbiblical authority that lays claim to your doctrinal allegience you are facing a spiritual wickedness that poses a far greater danger to the church than does the weakness of soft-hearted Missourians who think that the Benkes of this world are just a little misled and can by means of dialogue be brought around. Tolerance of false doctrine within a synod is not nearly so bad as the intolerance of the truth. It was Dr. David P. Scaer who said that to me years ago. When I reminded him of it he had forgotten that he said it. But I have not forgotten. Scaer was, without knowing it, prophetic.

The next few years and decades will be a challenge for all confessinal Lutherans who want to belong to a truly confessional fellowship. I offer this advice to confessional Missourians looking for that ever illusive orthodox synod. Be careful! There is something more valuable than what you are seeking, and that is the truth that you already have.

One of those days

I started the grain soaking for the bread last night. When I went to put the other ingredients into the dough and knead, there was no yeast. There's always supposed to be a pound of yeast in reserve in the basement, but there's none in the kitchen nor in the basement. By the time I manage to get my hands on some yeast, the wheat is going to be way over-soaked.

I picked up the little old car from the repair place yesterday. The oil light flashed at me on the way home a few times. I checked the oil and there was nothing on the dipstick. The people that drive that particular car have been forgetting that Zippy guzzles oil like crazy. So we put two quarts in her and need to check again how low she is.

Different kid was in a car wreck. All the humans are fine. The vehicles are not.

Found a moth and two worms in the rice jar when I was making lunch.

Waiting to hear test results of a friend's biopsy.

Went to deliver papers to the paper-carriers today. It had to start pouring just as we got to town. I managed to get all the papers into the garage of the guy who has the biggest route, without getting the papers tooooo damp. And then I remembered that he's out of town and I was supposed to deliver the bundles to his substitute. Put all the bundles of newspapers back into the van, got there to the sub's house, found his whole driveway was entirely full of broken-down vehicles, and the street was entirely full of puddles.

The slimy Democrat was supposed to come by last night to talk to me and pick up his yardsign. He never showed.

Distressed about something that happened Monday night. There will be a chance to talk about the problem tomorrow.

On Saturday, our little area of the world became overrun by box-elder bugs. They're everywhere. On Sunday, that infestation was joined by centipedes. They were everywhere outdoors, crawling on everything, more than you could possibly count. It's been raining for several days, and the centipedes have migrated indoors. At least they are (so far) confined to the floor of the basement, and not the furniture nor the upstairs.

I'm ready to quit everything now and go watch tv and eat Snickers. But I can't. The laundry beckons. The children need to be fed. The bread needs to be made ahead of time for next week. I need to go to work. And one child is insistent on my helping her with schoolwork right now. Can't we just deal with FOOD first?

Romeo & Juliet and the Seal of the Confessional

Friday we went to APT for our last show of the season -- Romeo and Juliet. It's not one of the plays I like, but it was being produced by one of my favorite directors there, so we organized a small group of homeschoolers to attend a school matinee.

It was the best play we saw this season! The first act was hilarious. No stuffy romance here, but all the silly fun of giggling at infatuated teenagers.

The thing that got me was the tragedy of the second act. I think the message I'm supposed to get from the show is about feuds and grudges and fighting. But instead, I kept wondering what would've happened if the pastor had been a faithful father-confessor.

Confessors must not only pronounce forgiveness to the penitent, but must also honor the seal of the confessional. This means not only that they "don't tell," but also that it is as though they never heard the confession themselves -- Jesus did. The priest in the story refused to "let God be God"; he wanted to interfere with circumstances. He wanted to settle the family feuds. He wanted to arrange temporal peace in their city. And so he took matters into his own hands. And it didn't turn out very well, did it?

Of course, there wouldn't have been much of a story if the priest had told the kids to honor their parents, if he'd refused to marry them against their parents' wishes, if he hadn't suggested the whole feigned-suicide thing. I guess stories always need a bad guy. But maybe Tybalt and Mercutio weren't the real bad guys here.

Psalm 91 + Matthew 21

Pastor keeps talking about how the job of the angels is to minister God's word. He keeps telling us how they preach in the unseen realm the things he preaches where we see and hear. He keeps telling us that it is not the angels' job to keep us out of car accidents; they are preachers.

Okay. Sounds good. But it's hard to get that through my head when that's so entirely contrary to what's out there in our world.

So this morning I'm reading the psalm appointed for the day in Congregation at Prayer.
He will give His angels charge over you
To keep you in all your ways.
In their hands they shall bear you up,
Lest you dash your foot against a stone.

Well, think of all the times Jesus is considered a stone. He was the Rock in the wilderness that provided water to the children of Israel. He is often referred to in the psalms as a rock or a fortress. At the end of Matthew 21, Jesus applies Psalm 118 to Himself:
The stone which the builders rejected
Has become the chief cornerstone.
This was the Lord's doing
And it is marvelous in our eyes.

Then He goes on to talk about people falling on this Stone, or this Stone falling on them. So when we hear about "dashing your foot against a stone," ought we maybe to be thinking of tripping over Jesus and stumbling over the message of the gospel of forgiveness in His cross? (After all, the passages that are flitting through my mind are Ps 118 and Mt 21, and we can't get a whole lot more messianic than that!)

But I keep thinking of all the things we normally say about the protection of the angels. And yet, WHO was it in Mt 4 that quoted this Ps 91 passage and turned it into a promise of protection from owies and booboos? He's not exactly the most trustworthy commentator. The more I think about this, the more it seems that Ps 91 is saying that the angels shall bear you up in their hands lest you renounce the gospel of God's love seen in Christ's cross.

Grieving Takes Time

Three years ago today was the last time Steve talked to me. I had a few more days to talk to him and sing hymns to him and sit in his hospice room with lots of other friends and family. I'm very aware of these anniversary days -- the day he was diagnosed with his third bout of lymphoma, the last day I visited him and his wife at home, the day he was admitted to hospice, etc. But this year, finally, those memories aren't wipe-ya-out painful like last year and the previous year. Those memories are still incredibly vivid, and there is still some sorrow there, but the pain isn't there like it was.

I picked up a tape from church last Thursday. It was supposed to be the Service from a couple of Sundays ago. But somebody forgot to turn on the tape recorder. So what I found (which was supposed to have been recorded over) was a tape of Bible class from Eastertide 2000. Pastor Wiest was there. He was asking questions and making comments, being theologically provocative and insightful. It was such a happy thing to hear his voice and the things he said. Kinda a nice touch to hear his voice again on the anniversary of the day I last heard his voice. And also kinda nice to know that mourning and grieving eventually ends. But shame on the person who decides that a person's grief is "taking too long."

Turkey-Dinner Work Anyway

Resigned to the fact that I would have to work at church's fund-raiser today, I hurried off to do paper routes, returned home, got several things taken care of in the kitchen and laundry room, and arrived at church only 20 minutes late. Everything was running smoothly everywhere and my presence there was quite pointless. So I came home and took care of some deskwork.

I was free! I didn't have to be forced into something I didn't want to do. Hooray!

I went back about 45 minutes later to see if they needed any help. I went of my own free will. They did need help. I worked in one area, then another, changing jobs and responsibilities, just pitching in wherever things were most behind.

And it was okay. Really okay!

Part of me thinks I should feel guilty for being so unwilling to do the work when I was told to do it. Like I was just being contrary. But another part of me thinks there's something theological here -- something about what Church is all about, and that it's not about forcing people to DO but inviting people to receive, and also accepting their offerings of work (or money) but without compelling them to do so.

So I had a perfectly decent time working at the turkey dinner. And one of the sweet mommas at church let Maggie be her sidekick, so that Maggie was permitted to help indoors where it less likely for her to catch a cold.

And at the end of the evening, a conversation took an interesting little twist, and I found out where I can get milk.

Slimy, Low-Down, No-Good, Cheatin' Democrat

I am so majorly ticked at the guy running for State Assembly in our district.

He's cute. He's young. He's charming. He has run for the office persistently. He keeps losing, but he keeps trying. One day, he will make it; I have no doubt.

He is a slimeball. Two years ago, he stopped by our house and asked permission to put one of his yardsigns in our yard. "No. We live in a parsonage, and you can't put one on church property. That's not allowed when you have non-profit status." He tried to convince us to put a sign in front of the house and not over by church. We did discuss a few issues, like abortion and homeschooling, but I didn't argue politics with him. I didn't say whether I agreed with his political stance or not. I just told him he couldn't put a yard sign on church property. He was pleasant enough and thanked me for the conversation and asked for my vote. Then he left.

This week (the week of our turkey dinner when hundreds of people will be coming to our church property) suddenly a yard sign appears. It was on the property line, between us and our neighbors. I fumed. I knew he put it on the property line so that it would look like it was on church property.

After a few days, and hours before the fundraising dinner was supposed to begin, I decided to visit the neighbors. I went to pick up the yard sign on my way to their front door. Turns out that the sign wasn't on their property; it was about 6 inches on our side of the line. I asked the neighbors if they'd chosen the location for the sign, or if they'd just given the permission and then Ryan chose where the sign would go. They were surprised. They hadn't given permission for any sign to go in their yard. And besides, as they'd pointed out, the sign wasn't in their yard, it was in mine. I had intended to ask the neighbors to put the sign in front of their house instead of way over by our property, but they said they sure didn't want his yardsign in their yard!

So the man couldn't get permission to put the sign here, but did anyway. And he couldn't get permission to put the sign in the neighbor's yard. So he slimily stuck it between the houses, knowing that we'd each assume it was the other's sign. And he put it in our yard, even after having been told the reason why a church couldn't put out a yardsign EVEN IF we agreed with the candidate. But he chose to do it anyway.

If a guy can't campaign honestly, why would anybody in their right minds expect him to govern honestly??

This dude often has yardsigns in people's yards, alongside yardsigns of people of the opposite party. I always assumed his charming demeanor and his boldness in asking was what got people to agree to allow him to put up yardsigns. But now I'm wondering if he just goes and sticks 'em anywhere he feels like.

Now I have to figure out how I can rat him out. Maybe letters to the editors of the county weekly and the daily news? Maybe contacting his opponent and telling him what's up? I don't like the Republican incumbent too much, but at least he's got some ethics and morals!

Nasty Taxes

Chatting with my daughter today, she was telling me how pleased her bosses are with not only her work, but also with her attitude and her work habits. (Being translated, this means she shows up every day, on time, and actually works. AND she's cheerful.) The bosses gave her a raise to reward her. And then she also got the raise for being fully trained and certified. So she got a $1/hr raise after only a month working there. I thought that was pretty great!

But the big bummer was when she got her paycheck. Not only was it NOT bigger, but it was actually smaller. The gross pay went up, but the net pay went down. There is something seriously wrong with our tax system when getting a raise puts less money in your pockets.

But I Didn't Sign Up!

It's one of those days I hate being a pastor's wife.

Today is the annual turkey-dinner fundraiser at church. I think it would be best if those sort of things were not needed; I think the members should actually give enough in offerings that they don't have to "play restaurant" to come up with operating funds. But the last few years I've helped with the dinner, and it's been okay.

This year I didn't sign up. There were reasons that I felt like I just couldn't do it this year, partially because of being out of town all day yesterday, and partially because of the upcoming surgery.

Then this morning I was told that my husband, my children, and I are all working in the carry-out portion of this fundraising dinner. If I weren't married to the pastor, I'd just tell them that I wasn't doing it. When I told them I hadn't signed up, they told me that Pastor had signed me up. Well, he didn't. But now what am I supposed to do? This totally botches up the things I have to get accomplished today.

The Litany

From the crafts and assaults of the devil;
from sudden and evil death;
from pestilence and famine;
from war and bloodshed;
from sedition and rebellion;
from lightning and tempest;
from all calamity by fire and water;
and from everlasting death:
good Lord, deliver us.

That always struck me as an odd assortment of petitions. The paragraph groupings in the other sections of the litany seemed like more cohesive units to me. But after Sunday's gospel and sermon (the end of Matthew 6), and after several days of having my mind hijacked by "What God Ordains Is Always Good" and "All Depends on Our Possessing God's Abundant Grace and Blessing" and "In God, My Faithful God, I Trust When Dark My Road," I have a thought.

We do pray for protection from those temporal tribulations: death, famine, storms, war, etc. But those aren't the "biggies." What is even worse than these crises is how the devil can craftily use them to assault faith. "See, God doesn't care about you: your house burned down [or your nation was attacked by war-mongers, or hail destroyed your crops, or whatever]." So this list of harms to the body and threats to our possessions is book-ended by the first and last petitions which pray for deliverance from how these losses and sorrows could threaten faith. Because even if God permitted pestilence and famine, war and bloodshed, what ultimately matters is that God would guard and keep us so that the devil, the world, and our sinful nature may not deceive us or mislead us into false belief, despair, and other great shame and vice. Although we are attacked by these things, we pray that we may finally overcome them, and win the victory.

I guess I could type out the words to the last stanza of "A Mighty Fortress" because they'd fit SO well, but I'm not going to right now. (I'm trying to write shorter posts. A futile endeavor, I'm sure....)

I Love to Laugh

For a good giggle, go to my friend Melody's blog and read the recipe for "The Best Rum Cake Ever". But you can't skim the recipe; you actually have to read it.

Guns in the Home

Last summer there was a robbery in our nearby big-city. The robber broke into the victim's home through the roof and came crashing down through the ceiling in the middle of the night. The homeowner is relatively well-known in the community -- a physician and daddy of three. When the scuzball wouldn't leave even after the doctor had yelled at him several times, and while the wife was phoning 911, finally the doctor pulled out his gun and shot the intruder. Within just a few days, the DA announced he wouldn't be pressing charges against the doctor because he obviously shot in self-defense.

Now, more than a year later, the scuzball is suing the doctor. Not only that, but the robber who is now in jail managed to file suit in Milwaukee County, knowing that he'd stand a much better chance of winning there than in the community where he committed the crime. The doctor is asking that the civil suit be tried in the county where the shooting took place, and that it be a jury trial. I would love to be on that jury!

Today's paper quotes the jailbird's wife: "he had no right to shoot my husband." Really now? And your husband had the right to be in the victim's hallway, near his sleeping children, in the middle of the night, after crashing through the ceiling? Massad Ayoob writes in Backwoods Home Magz, teaching gun-owners the difference between self-defense and excessive force. And this was definitely not excessive force. (And even if it were excessive according to legal definitions, which it wasn't, it still wasn't excessive according to common sense and decent morals!)

I think my 14-yr-old had an excellent observation. "So if the robber couldn't get the doctor's money by stealing it in the middle of the night, now he's found a different way to get the man's money." Exactly.

Psalm 80

Restore us, O God,
cause Your face to shine,
and we shall be saved.

I had always thought "cause Your face to shine" referred to God being happy with us, God smiling upon us, God's grin beaming down on us.

But praying Psalm 80 today, something different crossed my mind. Jesus is the Face of the Father. Jesus is the Light of the world. "Arise, shine, for your light is come, and the glory of the Lord is risen upon you."

And where does He shine? There was fire on top of Sinai. There was the pillar of fire at the exodus. There was the cloud in the tabernacle. There was the top of the Mount of Transfiguration. But mostly, there's Golgotha. In Jesus' passion and crucifixion, that's where the love of God really shone. And that love continues to shine when repentance and the remission of sins is preached today. And that is how we shall be saved.

Restore us, O Lord God of hosts,
cause Your face to shine,
and we shall be saved.


... a Light of consolations
and blessed Hope to those
who love the Lord's appearing.
O glorious Sun, now come,
send forth Thy beams most cheering,
and guide us safely home. (TLH 58)

A Good Homeschooling Day

Yesterday was what I wish most of our days could be like. It was not stressful. We got the schoolwork done in a comfortable and happy way.

Problem is, yesterday was not typical. I went to bed on Sunday night with the laundry finished. Virtually no housework remained to be done after a good amount of cleaning at the end of last week. I decided to put off the week's errands (usually done on Monday) to another day. I didn't cook a Real Meal. I chose not to tackle any of the projects on the long to-do list (pruning trees, putting photos into albums, finishing off an article to submit to a magazine, etc.).

So that's how to have a happy homeschool day: don't have any other work except the fun of learning.

Life is gonna catch up with me today, ain't it?

The Best Food

I am not appreciated.

Yes, yes, I'll get in line with all you other moms.

Daddy is in Colorado at a meeting with a bunch of other pastors. In attempts to get a lot accomplished today, I figured we could pretty much blow off dinner and just find some kind of calories. After all, it wouldn't offend the daddy who'd get stuck eating waffles or some other such dinner-impersonation.

My youngest requested tomato soup and grilled cheese. Sounded like a good plan to me!

As we're buttering the bread and heating the skillets, my child who is Logically Challenged made a very reasonable deduction. A wrong deduction. An offensive deduction, at least, offensive in the eyes of a woman who loves to cook.

"Mom, when you were in Colorado for the youth conference, we ate the best food while you were gone. And then you came home, and we went back to eating bad .... uh,... ummm, regular food that's not so good. And now Daddy is in Colorado, and we're back to eating the very best food again. You know what, Mom? There's something about Colorado. Whenever someone is there, we don't have to eat bad .... uh ... ummm ... well, we get the BEST food."

So who in their right mind would ever choose roast turkey or meatloaf or salads or mixed veggies when there are frozen pizzas and mac&cheese and canned soups to be had?

Little Road Hazards

Shortly before dawn I was returning home from dropping off one husband at one airport. Now, being up before dawn is not usually according to my plan! About 3/4 mile up the road from the house, I hit a road hazard. Somebody's metal lawn decoration had been taken out by a passing vehicle, and debris was scattered in the road. It couldn't be missed; it covered too much of the lane. As I'm driving the rest of the way home, hoping that my tires survive, I thought I should tell the boys to watch for it when they go to work today. Then I thought, "No, better drive back and pick up the chunks of metal so that they don't have to remember about the threat of tire-puncture." It's really quite a shame that I had no incentive to do that to protect other drivers and their cars. But somehow, when I realized that I could have three cars with flats by the end of the day, self-interest compelled me to be kind to my neighbor.

No Sin Can Harm ...

[Warning: if you're prone to antinomianism, don't read this. But for the rest of us, folks who are more prone to legalism, you're allowed to continue.]


"How Sweet the Name of Jesus Sounds" was our hymn-of-the-week last week, and the hymn-of-the-week at Peace the previous week. I love the stanza that got left out of LW and LSB.

By Thee my prayers acceptance gain
although with sin defiled.
Satan accuses me in vain
and I am owned a child.

There's plenty in LSB about being cured from sin, and plenty about God choosing us as His own although we were sinners, but not too much about God loving us although we are still sinners.

I love the new tune to "Jesus, Thy Boundless Love to Me." But it is quite sad that LSB left out some stanzas that LW omitted, including --

Oh, draw me, Savior, e'er to Thee;
So shall I run and never tire.
With gracious words still comfort me;
Be Thou my Hope, my sole Desire.
Free me from every guilt and fear;
No sin can harm if Thou art near.

And the hymnody committee decided there wasn't room in LSB for Luther's Christmas hymn --

Oh, then rejoice that through His Son
God is with sinners now at one.
Made like yourselves of flesh and blood,
Your brother is the eternal God.
What harm can sin and death then do?
The true God now abides with you.
Let hell and Satan rage and chafe,
Christ is your Brother -- you are safe.


If the church is bereft of such words for several decades, I fear that our hymnody will lead us to accept a theology of glory that teaches that sin is conquerable this side of the grave.

I like what Pastor says to those who think Christians can actually avoid sin with the help of the Holy Spirit. "Go ahead. If you can stop sinning, then do. Just one day without sin; that's all."

There's a Luther quote pasted inside the cover of my hymnal. Part of it says, "Beware of aspiring to such purity that you will not wish to be looked upon as a sinner, or to be one. For Christ dwells only in sinners."

Knowing All the Words?

At a wedding reception last night, my husband and I were at the bar, requesting beer and Pepsi. (No, not mixed! How disgusting!) Another guest took a look at me and said, "Oh, so that explains it."

Her statement was met with my raised eyebrows and puzzled expression. She tried to explain further. "Now I know who you are."

I was still puzzled. She didn't explain further, so I asked, "So.... who am I?"

"Well, you're with him." And she pointed to the cute guy next to me in the black shirt and round white collar. "That explains why you knew all the words."

"All the words? What words???"

Just a wee bit more explanation on her part enabled me to discover what it was that we were talking about. She'd sat near me during the wedding. I had noticed during the wedding that nobody but me and my daughter and the bride's parents were responding to the versicles. But, c'mon, how much could we stick out? There was almost nothing to respond to! There were no hymns or canticles. "All the words" that the four of us (afore-listed) participated in were
-- "and my mouth shall show forth Thy praise" and
"make haste to help me, O Lord."
-- the Gloria Patri once
-- "amen"
-- "thanks be to God" in response to
"this is the Word of the Lord."

And of those four things, the opening versicles were printed in the bulletin, with instructions for the congregation to respond. They didn't. Well, there were the four of us, but that's all.

In this day and age, I can understand churched people being unfamiliar with the liturgy. Too many churches have gotten all funky and ditched the liturgy. But for people my age, or a decade or so older, I simply cannot fathom how Christians could be entirely unfamiliar with things like "amen" and the Gloria Patri. That was the first thing munchkins learned in SunSch when I was little. The Gloria Patri was an excellent "first song" because it was used so frequently: it was sung at the beginning of prayer offices, after the Introit and the Nunc Dimittis, and at the end of many canticles. If you went to church at all, you were going to hear "amen" and the Gloria Patri at least once in each service.

Jessen is in second grade. He was in church with his family today, and he spoke right up, clear as a bell, when we got to the Lord's Prayer. Jessen apparently "knows all the words" too. (And he's not even married to a pastor!) Amazing how little it takes to "know everything" these days....

Christian Weddings

I suppose there is something salutary about weddings being sanctified by the word of God and prayer, even when the bride and groom aren't that concerned with being in church every week (or every month). But it is a wondrous thing when the bride and groom have been worshiping together weekly, and praying together, and each clinging firmly to God's Word.

I just want to say to Christopher and Erin, to Naomi and Nick, to Katie and Nathan (if any of them happen to see this) that it was pure joy to be at your weddings. It was a privilege to participate in the celebration and to pray for you and to hear God's Word proclaimed on the occasion of your weddings. It is also a comfort to know that you are salt and light to the earth, in this day when most weddings are not like yours.

Futility

My 11-yr-old doesn't get math. She has VCFS, and math non-comprehension goes with the territory. So I know that she won't do well with the subject. I know that she needs to be given time, lots of time. I know that we're still on 1st and 2nd grade math, and that's okay because it's entirely possible that 4th grade math is all we'll manage to complete by the time she's 18.

But sometimes it seems pointless even to try.

I thought we had a breakthrough last week. She finally seemed to understand what subtraction is, and how to do it. She breezed through a whole page of subtraction problems and got them right. The next day it didn't go so well. The next day it was worse. After one day without doing math, we had to start all over. But the next day, we had to start all over again. And today we had to redo the whole explanation of the lesson for every single problem. My frustration levels led me to take some breaks: "sorry, I gotta go stir the dinner" or "I really have to go jog now."

When I come in from jogging, my daughter meets me at the door and shoves her math worksheet in my face. "I got them done, Mom. Are they all right?" I quickly skim the answers. Most were problems over which we'd travailed prior to my escape in jogging shoes. But she had managed to accomplish a few more problems while I was jogging off some frustration. One problem, however seemed unusually clean and neat, with no scribbling for borrowing, no erasing wrong answers, no scratching out mistakes. My daughter points to that one and asks if it's alright. "Sure. The answer is correct."

But that didn't satisfy her. "Mom, I didn't figure that one out. I just remembered it and wrote down the answer. Is that okay???"

Remembered? She remembered 70-28=42??

"What do you mean, you 'remembered'?"

"I remembered it. I remembered the answer."

"But that problem wasn't on the page anywhere else."

"I know. But it was in that subtraction book you threw away last week because it was all finished. I had done that problem before."

"I gave you that problem before and you remembered the answer?"

"No, Mom. You didn't give me that problem before. It was in the workbook."

"Let me get this straight. Several weeks ago, you worked out the problem 70-28. And today you remembered that the answer is 42, and so you wanted to check whether it was okay to remember it instead of figuring out the answer again. Is that what you just said?"

"Yes. Is it okay to remember it?"

So I'm being stunned. This is a child who can't remember that 10-7 is 3 or that 8+6 is 14. But she remembered that 70-28=42. HOW do we get the basic math facts tossed into the memory vat alongside 70-28?

It's futile. It's useless. Why try? I think I should sit on the couch and watch funny movies and eat Snickers. (That would be my version of bonbons and soap operas.)

Actually, we didn't watch funny movies and eat Snickers. But I did dip into the therapeutic chocolate today. And I did have a jigger of Southern Comfort while I was setting the table for lunch. And we did open up the new word game I bought last week. And I did call off school with Maggie for the rest of the day, spending time with the boys instead.

As I fumed over 70-28=42 while finishing up the dinner prep, I thought that it's probably time to give up math. Better for her to learn to cook and clean and enjoy stories. (By the way, enjoying stories is something else the geneticist said my daughter wouldn't be able to do. Ha -- she was wrong on that one!) I was thinking about the futility of teaching arithmetic to a person who will never understand and may have to get through life without that ability. But then I thought about the futility of all of it -- teaching the other kids anything. Oh, I suppose they need to learn things for the sake of making them capable people who will be able to serve the neighbor. But today, it all seems ultimately futile. It's been about 17 years since I read Ecclesiastes -- maybe it's time to haul it out again.

Psalm 116 again

Pastor humored me in Bible class. He preached on the psalm of the week until I was done asking questions. I didn't get to the point that I understood everything he said, but at least he gave me plenty to ponder.

He said Psalm 116 is indeed a cohesive unit with the theme of redemption/salvation. He said it starts with prayer that arises from faith (vs 1-2). In the following verses, the psalmist talks about sin, death, and hell (vs 3-4), and we pray for deliverance from these enemies because God is righteous and merciful. We confess that He is merciful (vs 5) even "in the midst of death's dark vale." Returning to "rest" (vs 7) isn't returning to a comfortable situation, but returning to our Rest who is Christ Himself. There may be deliverance in temporal matters, but our deliverance is ultimately in heaven, the land of the living (vs 9).

The next two verses were part of what really confused me initially. But Pastor pointed out that we have a vocab-word for what we "speak" when we "believe" (vs 10) -- "confession." Not only do we confess our sin ("all men are liars," including ourselves, because the lies are central to what was happening in Genesis 3) but we also confess our trust in God and that He will bring us to the land of the living.

Pastor then went on to link the communion canticle (vs 12-14 and 19) to the statement in Apology IV about the highest worship of God being the desire to receive the gifts He gives. He also pointed out that our "vows" would be better thought of as things like "Do you renounce the devil and all his works and all his ways? I do renounce them. Do you believe in God the Father, Maker of heaven and earth? I do believe...."

Verse 15 was one that confused me too -- not the content of the verse, but its connection to the rest of the psalm. But Pastor pointed out that death is when the bonds are finally completely loosed (vs 16) and when we are delivered (vs 4 and 8) into the land of the living (vs 9). And it is most precious to God when we are taken from this valley of sorrows to Himself in heaven.

Hospital Update

Surgery is scheduled for Tuesday, October 10.

St Matthew Epistle

I checked the LSB lectionary today. They botched the "sense lines" for today's epistle from Ephesians 4. They have "for equipping the saints for the work of ministry" instead of having those as two separate items in the series. Bummers.

Temptation

1 Corinthians 10:13b
God is faithful, who will not allow you to be tempted beyond what you are able, but with the temptation will also make the way of escape that you may be able to bear it.

I so often hear this passage used to suggest that if we just try hard enough to find it, God will always provide a way to "not sin." So I very much appreciated what Pastor said in Bible class on August 13. Just thought I'd put it out there in case anybody else wanted to listen in.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Now, the word "tempted," you can think more broadly than "come on, do this sinful thing." Think of "testing" or "trial." It includes not only the temptations of the devil, but also if you get the diagnosis of cancer or if there was a tornado that ripped down your house. It's not only temptations from the devil, but also the testing and trial that comes through crises.

God is faithful and will not allow you to be tempted beyond what you are able, but with the temptation or testing will also make an escape. God is faithful. To what? To His Word. To His promises to you. Like Paul says to Timothy, even when we are faithless, God is faithful for He cannot deny Himself. He is faithful to Himself and to His Word and to His promises to you. Therefore He will not allow us to be tempted beyond what we are able to bear or endure. Notice that it doesn't mean that the temptation or testing will be taken away. The point here is that you will be able to bear it or endure it -- without losing faith.

He will not allow you to be tempted or tested beyond what you are able to bear or endure, but with the temptation or testing or trial will also make the way of escape. Escape from what? Escape from sin, unbelief, despair. This is what we speak of in the sixth petition: God tempts no one. We pray in this petition that God would guard and keep us so that the devil, the world, and our sinful nature may not deceive us or mislead us into false belief, despair, and other great shame and vice. What is the cause of false belief, despair, and other great shame and vice? Unbelief! So escape is always, finally, faith. So that you do not fall into despair, shame, vice, and unbelief.

God is aware that we're tempted to despair. He will make an escape from sin and despair. What is the escape? It is in His Gospel, in His Word. A person who dies without faith is condemned. That's not because God was not faithful, but because the person rejected. He promises to be faithful to you according to the promises of His Word. He promises that when you are tested, He will provide the way of escape that you may be able to bear it and not fall into everlasting despair.

Feelings of despair and depression certainly do not mean that you have no faith. That's all the Old Adam is -- unbelief. If he's not getting what he wants, he may be quite despairing. There's always this paradox of "I believe, help Thou my unbelief." And He promises to help you.

Mrs X mentioned that private confession and absolution is a wonderful way of escape. Pastor agreed that it is. The reason we retain private absolution is for the sake of the absolution which strengthens faith which is the way of escape from sin and despair. We need to see it more as a normal thing instead of only for extraordinary sins like the physical act of murder. So if you'd just like to kill someone, but never would, confession is there for you.

Mrs Y agreed that private confession is a wonderful way of escape because it fortifies one with the Gospel.

Faith lives from a real word, an external word from outside the self. We tend to sit in our despair when what we need is the external word.

Hospital Update

The cardiologist called today. Results of the MRI showed pretty much what he expected. He was pleasantly surprised at how healthy and well-developed are the branches of the pulmonary artery. He was also concerned that the walls of the right ventricle were thickened more than he'd expected.

He said we don't need to meet with him prior to surgery. He said there's really not much to discuss because it's clear enough that it's time to get a new artery and that we can't allow her right ventricle to continue to be stressed. However, he did offer us the option of looking into a stent, to buy a little time, but that there's a very slim chance it would work.

So the surgeon's office will be calling Thursday or Friday to set a date.

Kids' Chores

I think one of the hardest parts of momming is teaching the kids to do their chores, and to do them well, and to do them without reminding. We aren't all there yet. The kids are capable of the work, but they usually need prodding and reminding. It takes a whole lot of energy to make certain people keep up with what they're supposed to do.

What stinks is that, at the time I'm shortest of energy and pulled in a gazillion different ways, thus needing them to stick to their responsibilities in a "responsible" way, that is precisely the time I have no energy to enforce the behavior standards. And thus, when I'm busiest, it seems I have more cajoling to do to get them to do the chores, or end up taking the chores back onto myself for the sake of not having to prod and remind.

There must be a better way.

Oh. I know what it is. I could become a gooood Chriiiistian homeschool mommy, and have children who don't have sinful natures, but who always cheerfully serve their parents and siblings, and never fuss or disobey.

Naaaaah. Wouldn't work. Romans 6-7....

Psalm 116

I don't get this. It's the psalm of the week. Maybe after praying it repeatedly throughout the week, I might understand it by Saturday?

The way I'm reading this, verses 10-11 are really quite disjointed from the verses before and after. So is verse 15. And it doesn't seem connected in any way to vv 10-11. I KNOW though that it is one cohesive unit, and that it all goes together. I just don't see how.

It crossed my mind this morning that there might be something to "God has delivered my soul from death." Maybe there's something in the psalm that hits on how we are kept safe even though our bodies face destruction. The soul is delivered from the second death because of dying in baptism. And the body will be restored at the last day, but still must face temporal death to finish off that nasty Old Adam.

And maybe I need to figure out the connection between that and the canticle that we use prior to communion ("What shall I render to the Lord..."). Even if I could make sense of that part in my head, though, I still don't get the "Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints" right smack in the middle of the parts of the psalm we use for the canticle.

I hope Pastor is willing to talk about the psalm on Thursday morning at Bible class instead of jumping straight back into Leviticus.

"Your Faith Has Made You Well"

My daughter and her [Roman Catholic] boyfriend went to church up in the city on Sunday. His apartment is only 20 minutes from Peace, Sussex. Much better than where he lived last year, where the nearest Lutheran church was a 75-minute drive.

He hung around after church on Sunday to ask Pastor a question about something that bothered him in the Gospel reading. "Your faith has made you well." That makes it sound like my "trustingness" has made me well. That makes it sound like I did something for God to bless me. But that can't be! So what does this mean?

Wow! My first thought was "he's a kindred spirit -- a man after my own heart!" My second thought was "and you where raised in what church body?"

The Holy Spirit works faith when and where He pleases in those who hear the Gospel! And the Gospel teaches that we have a gracious God, not because of our own merits but because of the merits of Christ. (Maybe I should look up that quote and see that I've got it right. Ah, I'm too lazy. But you get the gist of it anyway.)

I have a feeling this guy is just gonna eat up catechesis with Bender. Class starts in two weeks. Yippee!

Theatre in the Great Wet Outdoors

Last Tuesday we went to Spring Green to see "Julius Caesar" at the absolute most bestest place in the whole world. I love APT. I love the drive over there (although it's too far) because it's just such a beautiful part of the state. I love the outdoor theatre and the hike up the hill. I love the actors.

Up until this year, I was crazy about the plays. They always seemed to have a very Lutheran undertone. At first, I just assumed it was something in Shakespeare. But as I've seen more Shakespeare, I realize that different companies play it different ways. And APT always seems to fit my worldview best, and fit my theology best, and delve me into lovelier theological musings than what I got from other companies. But now I'm a bit worried, because one of my favorite directors has become the manager of the whole place and isn't directing as much. I wonder what that will do to the way stories are presented?

We've had drought for years. This summer, God has given us rain. It's lovely. And for all the times I prayed for rain, I told myself that I wouldn't complain when it interfered with my plans. So I'm not complaining. Understand? But, boy oh boy, was it ever wet on Tuesday!

It drizzled and misted during the first act (100 minutes). We were in ponchos and damp. Actually, the weather fit the setting of the play quite well, even if we were a little wet. After intermission, there was a short first scene with drizzle, but then the sky opened up. They had to halt the performance and send us for cover. The rattle of the raindrops on our ponchos was so loud that the actors just could NOT get enough volume to be heard. They sent us down to the tent which is used for rained-out school matinees. It was okay, but it helped to close one's eyes and "see" the stage and the costumes and the movement that the actors would've been making had they still been on the real stage.

Afterwards we went into town to the General Store. I hate shopping. I hate shopping. Yes, I do -- I hate shopping. But I LOVE this store! When Gary and I had been over in Spring Green for our anniversary, I saw a board game that I wanted to get for school and for fun. I thought it was pricey. But when I tried to find it elsewhere, I discovered that it's not widely available. So I wanted to go back and buy it. Because of the cold rain and a little blue child, we decided said blue child needed something warm in her. We stopped at the restaurant in the General Store and bought soups and cocoa and stuff. While there, some of the actors stopped by after the performance, and we chatted with them a bit. Tracy (that'd be Brutus's wife, for those of you who attended the play)was saying that they've never had rain like this before, as long as she can remember in her 7 or 8 years in the company. Yes, there's been rain this bad, but it had always been for regular performances. And they'll call those off and give raincheck tickets. But for school matinees, they can't have people come back. It's too close to end of season, and the schools can't arrange to re-do the busses and the fieldtrip permission slips and all that jazz. So this play was one that made memories of how drenching and loud the rain was, because the actors couldn't stop the show and had to make it through (even though they got to move to a drier location).

For our 20th anniversary, my husband and I went to APT. One of the performances we were at also happened to be once of the worst rained-upon plays they've had. It even made APT's anniversary memory book. That night, they sent us for cover twice due to dangerous weather (not just wet). And by the end of the show, only about 100 patrons (less than 10% of the original audience) were left to see how Richard II turned out. When we were at APT this year for our 25th anniversary, it was the day there was flooding across the middle part of the state, and weather bad enough to knock out the power at home for the kids.

My husband had wished (once upon a time) that we could go on a cruise for our anniversary. All I can say is that I think the people who live near the ocean should thank us for going to APT instead of on a cruise. It prevented the hurricane that would surely have hit had we been on a boat that day.

And we can expect rain Friday next week. That's the day we have tickets to "Romeo and Juliet." Don't water your lawn on Thursday....

Overbooked

I know I'm overly busy when we blow off most of school for three days straight. (Oh, wait, there was that hour of philosophical discussion about trigonometry last night.) I canceled an all-day meeting tomorrow, and am looking for more things to cancel yet this month. The plan (!) was to spend today cleaning because we've ignored the floors and dust for so long. Of course, the dust doesn't bother me much. It's the lost items under the stacks of books and piles of papers, and the socks hiding behind the lego bucket. I mean, c'mon, when you've got to kill a fly, and you know there are two fly-swatters in that very same room, and you can't find either one of them, it's really time to straighten the house! We didn't read aloud today, we didn't fix meals today, and we didn't do the Monday errands today. I hope the catching-up work we did is enough that we can finish the rest of it by lunch tomorrow.

Every time I think of getting a paying job and how much we need for me to have a real income, I think of how a month like this is going. I think of how many days it takes for me to get ready to be gone from home one day, and how many days it takes to recuperate. A four-hour project is definitely an all-day project. One day away from home consumes three full days. What would happen if I had to be gone 10 hours a day, five days a week? Eeks!

Maybe we'll recuperate from the Busy Month with a nice posts-surgery convalescence for Mag, reading aloud, watching too much tv, and not running around like crazy people.

Matthew 4 and Psalm 49

Thursday morning for Matins, one of our psalms was 49. That same morning, as I was editing Bible stories from Luke, I ran across the story of the temptation of Jesus. And thus I noticed something cool about "Passion" that I hadn't noticed before. Wow -- the theologians who consulted on that movie sure were something! Always something new to find!

Pastor Koch had pointed out before I ever saw the movie that, in the Garden, Jesus was praying the psalms. I still don't know what psalms. The subtitles in the movie aren't in NKJV. Besides that, I just don't know the psalms as well as I wish I did. So I still don't know what psalms were being prayed in the Garden in the movie. But Thursday I realized where some of Satan's lines in that scene came from.

In Matthew 4, Satan quoted the Psalms (out of context!) to tempt Jesus. That's not unlike what he did to Eve, quoting the Lord, but not quite right. Likewise, in the movie, Satan's scheme in the Garden was to quote the psalms. In Psalm 49, Satan pulled out "none can redeem his brother" and "the redemption of their souls is costly." And he left it stand: "It's too hard. You can't do it." Satan never wants to quote the whole thing in context: "But God will redeem my soul from the power of the grave."

Seek whom ye may to be your stay; none can redeem his brother. All helpers failed, this Man prevailed, the God-man and none other. Our Servant-Lord did help afford. We're justified for He hath died, the Guiltless for the guilty.