Email Postcards

Snopes confirms another computer virus making the rounds disguised as postcards or online greeting cards. The thing that I never know, though, is how we're supposed to tell the difference between the notices for the real and fake greeting cards.

Snopes had some advice for that. It said never to click on the link in the greeting card. Instead, you can go directly to the card company's website, find the "card pick-up page" on the site, and input the ID number of the card (which would've been included in the email notification about the card).

Maybe this is obvious to y'all, but so far I've been playing Russian Roulette, hoping that the cards Maggie and I have received have been real and not attempts to crash my computer. Now I know how to circumvent that possibility. If only I can remember....

Getting Rid of Books

Ouch!
Oh, the pain!
Ouch ouch ouch!

I neeeeed to get rid of stuff in the house. It doesn't hurt much to send clothes to Goodwill. Weeding out toys is a little uncomfortable, but do-able. But books?

Ouch!

What if we need them later?

They're good old-fashioned books, and you can't find those kind of things in the libraries or even the bookstores any more.

The kids might need these for their kids someday.

[fret
stew
worry]

I sure do like books.
I want my library to grow and grow and never ever shrink.
(Y'know, I don't think my eldest could even DO what I'm doing right now.)

Ye Watchers and Ye Holy Ones

Sometimes a mother might have to gently nudge her child next to her in the pew and point to the spot on the page of the hymnal. El-Kiddo gets the unspoken message that she's supposed to leave LaLa-Land, tune back in, and join in the hymn-singing.

Oh, higher than the cherubim,
more glorious than the seraphim,
lead their praises. Alleluia!
Thou bearer of the eternal Word,
most gracious, magnify the Lord.

Respond, ye souls in endless rest,
ye patriarchs and prophets blessed,
ye holy Twelve,
ye martyrs strong,
all saints triumphant raise the song:
Alleluia! (TLH 475)

Certainly the blessed Virgin Mary does not need to be asked to tune in to what's happening in church. Certainly Abraham and David and Peter and Paul and Ignatius and Constantine do not need to be told to sing with us. But there's just something that thrills the heart and sends shivers down your spine to realize so vividly that we're talking to our brothers and sisters in this song -- that Mary Magdalene and my grandfather and Isaiah and Katie Luther and Robert Preus and my goddaughter Bethany and Ambrose and Eve and Jeremiah and Barnabas are all there with us, gathered around the altar with us, singing with us -- and that we are inviting them to join us. :-) Like they need to be invited? We need the prodding to sing and praise more than they, that's for sure. But still, this hymn ... what a glorious reminder that we are all one body!

Hallucinations -- Part 3

Do you suppose that maybe, just maybe, God knows what's good for me ... even when I am confused and uncomfortable and in pain? I might think that my dad should not pull out his IV's or gastric tube, but he sure didn't agree in those days immediately post-surgery. I'm arrogant enough to think I knew better than he did, and to think he shouldn't be made "comfortable" if it meant doing harm to himself. Of course, he might not be able to recognize the harm that would come to him if he should try to get up and walk while he's still attached to the bed and to the wall. But his inability to recognize his situation doesn't at all lessen the harm that would come to him if he tried to do what he thought was a good idea.

Do we ever end up in the position that the post-surgery patient is in? Do we ever end up with God watching over us and our every move, apparently thwarting whatever attempts we make to improve our situation? And why does He do it? Just because He thinks He knows better! Just because He isn't trying to get immediate comfort, but is wanting to do what is ultimately for our best interest! And what do we do in response to His watchful eye and His tender care? We chafe. We try to sneak around Him and make things turn out the way that we think best. We accuse Him of not loving and not caring and not helping us.

My hallucinations about "what is best for me" can be every bit as misguided as the poor fellow who just had surgery and is full of narcotic pain-killers.

When you're one of the care-takers in the ICU dept, this is all so easy to see. But when you're the one who's hurting, it's practically impossible to see.

Hallucinations -- Part 2

Over the last weeks, my father was having a hard time figuring out that he was in the hospital. When he knew he was in the hospital, he was often confused about where he was in the building, and was worried that the nurses wouldn't be able to find him.

I remembered what the pastors had said about not fighting over those things. It's hard, though, when you don't realize what's going on in a conversation. Sometimes a daughter or a visitor or even a wife will be trying to help a patient, but get pretty darned lost as to what's going on.

What's especially hard is knowing how unhappy your patient is, all hooked up to tubes and IV's, knowing how much he wants to get out of the hospital and just go home. But he can't. He can't have a drink. He can't get up and go to the bathroom. He can't have a snack. He can't move be moved to a different room just because he feels like it. The patient is convinced that his family members (and even the nurses) don't care about him, won't give him what he wants, and are way off-base as to what he needs. But he is wrong: they are doing what's good for him even though he's uncomfortable and not getting his way.

No matter what he imagines about where he is, no matter what he thinks about the family's "lack of love" in refusing to check him out of the hospital, those thoughts are just confusion borne of the situation and the medications and the lack of sleep and other things that interfere with good sense. Sometimes when a patient is confused and in pain, his feelings and his experience seem much more important than what his caretakers insist is necessary for his recovery.

Hallucinations -- Part 1

Pastor told us the story of when he was visiting a shut-in shortly before he died. The man asked "if he needed a beer." As it was mid-morning, and as he was there for a communion visit, Pastor politely turned down the offer. But it turned out that the shut-in was asking Pastor whether "that other guy" needed a beer. Pastor didn't argue about the non-existence of "the other guy" but just said that he was fine and that that other guy didn't want a beer right now.

Gary was once visiting Lu shortly before he died. Lu was happy to be "going home" soon. Now, what is a pastor normally going to think about a man in hospice who's talking about "going home"? Nope, it wasn't that. Lu thought he was back in the service in Europe, and that the war was over and that he was being shipped back home soon. Rather than arguing about the location and the occasion of the visit, Gary just ministered to the man where he was, telling him about Jesus and about the relief of "going home" and getting there safely because of God's grace.

Pastor also had mentioned in the past that it is possible that those on medications and those nearing death might be seeing things in the spiritual realm that the rest of us cannot see. Both Gary and Pastor had mentioned previously how useless it is to argue with people in this situation, and that the important thing is doing what needs to be done for them.

The Will of God

Cause me to hear Your lovingkindness in the morning,
For in You do I trust.
Cause me to know the way in which I should walk,
For I lift up my soul to You. Psalm 143:8

So often I want to what God wants me to do, to "know the way in which I should walk." I want to know whether to take this job or that job or stay at home full-time with the kids. We want to know which college to choose to attend. We want to know which car to buy.

A few weeks ago, as my husband and I talked with a pastor about some big decisions that need to be made, Pastor said something about "walking by faith." And he said something I kinda sorta had heard in fuzzy ways before, but never as bluntly as he put it.

It's not about figuring out what The Right Thing To Do might be. Buying the Buick instead of the Honda isn't right or wrong. Going to the state university instead of the private college isn't right or wrong. We make the best decisions we can. And then the "walk by faith" is knowing that God will do good to us, and work for our salvation, in whatever choice we make.

Last night I noticed the parallelism in that verse of Psalm 143. To know the way in which I should walk IS to hear His lovingkindness. Taking the job or not isn't about "what God wants for me." Rather, taking the job -- or not taking it -- puts me in a position where I will be shown my sin annnd resultingly will have God's grace in Christ showered upon me annnd will serve my neighbor through whichever choice I make.

My Computer

My computer isn't exactly the speediest thing. It helped a lot when DSL became available in our area, so now we're not confined to a dial-up modem. But still, a 5-year-old computer that wasn't anywhere near state-of-the-art when we bought it,... well, it's not the speediest thing.

Today my son-in-law Nathan and my son Philip sped me up. My Norton anti-virus was about to expire. So Nathan deleted all my memory-hogging Norton programs and downloaded AVG and Zone-Alarm. Philip snagged some extra RAM from his old computer that's destined for the dumpster, and he installed that to quintuple my memory. (Oh, if only they could increase the memory in my brain that easily!) Nathan also said that my start-up menu has got gazillions of programs loading up and running in the background. Gary took care of a lot of those for me a few years ago, but Nathan knows of more that can be terminated! So he's going to email me a list of programs to disable when he gets home from the holidays.

I can't believe the difference it has made! Eighteen months ago, I would change a load of laundry while I was waiting for a new window to open on the computer. A week ago, I would set the plates on the table while waiting for a window to open, or some other activity that would use time but take less than a minute. Now ... oh my goodness! ... I can click on buttons on the computer, and the computer responds almost instantaneously. It's mega-cool!

Thanksgiving

Church last night here. Church this morning in Rockford. Besides our family, ten people at each place. "Even so, Lord, quickly come to Thy final harvest-home. Gather Thou Thy people in, free from sorrow, free from sin."

Before church this morning, as we were putting the turkey in to roast, we managed TWICE to spill turkey blood and juices all over different parts of the kitchen counters, walls, and floor. That left us with some mopping to take care of when we got home.

All the kids were here, so that made 10 of us for dinner. Nothing surprising, just the delicious regular feast. (Is "delicious regular feast" an oxymoron?? I don't think so. We're spoiled.) Turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing, gravy, herb bread, corn, sweet potatoes, gelled cranberries, wine (from a bottle! not a box), and pie. We had a couple of bushels of awesome Hubbard squash given to us this year, so the pie was not technically pumpkin. One poor child was freaked out yesterday by the idea of squash pie. But she got told a thing or two, and by the time it was served up today, I think she forgot, and it was as delicious as any pumpkin pie she ever ate.

Katie and Nathan brought their kitten, unwilling to leave him alone at home for so many days. Our two cats have been shockingly agreeable about this interloper. Our kitten and their kitten even seem to be getting to enjoy each other a bit. The middle-aged cat is probably being pacified by the odors and occasional tastes of turkey. Another dirty plate with turkey bits and gravy? "Here, kitty kitty kitty!"

Lots of talking and joking around. Lots of watching kitty interactions. Lots of computer talk among those who understand such things (not me). Lots of theological talk. Some sorting through books and shelves for what girls might want to take with them for their bookshelves and my future grandkids. Lots of catching up and telling stories. Lots of digesting and not giving our tummies enough time to rest before we began refilling them again. Turned out to be a much better day than the 6:30 a.m. harbingers indicated.

I like my family.

Three Trips to Town

I deliver Shoppers, the bi-weekly local ad-papers. Today is the day before Thanksgiving. I expected the papers to be huge today. But, c'mon... when it takes three trips to town because they're that big and they wouldn't fit in the van in one or two loads? Wow.

In delivering those sale-ads, I have hereby done my duty to the economy, and I fully intend to hide in my house on Friday! Y'all have "fun" with the crowds out in the malls and the big-box stores in a couple of days.

Decorating Scheme

Kristi has a quote on her blog about books. Even if nobody else clicks on that link, my eldest daughter had better check it out!!! And her husband will laugh at the quote, I'm sure. And her father will nod in commiseration.

On Changing the Words

Father Hollywood posted on Weedon's blog about ESV. I thought it was a good point, whether one is talking about improvements to a Bible translation, the catechism, or the hymnal.

He writes:
It has really hurt the cause of biblical literacy when the KJV ceased being a nearly-universal standard in the English-speaking world. As much as I personally like the ESV, I think it's just one more version in the smorgasbord that adds, rather than helps, the problem of a multiplicity of versions.

Baseball Games and Handicapped Kids

An article by Dan Shaughnessy appeared a month ago (10-26-07) about Clint Hurdle, the manager of the Rockies, and their huge loss in the first game of the World Series. The Hurdles have a daughter with a genetic disorder. The article contrasted the weightiness of losing the game big-time to the challenges of life with a special-needs child. Following is an excerpt:


He knows this is only baseball. He knows that on a daily basis, his wife is the one with the stressful, high-pressure job. The caretaker of a child with Madison's symptoms doesn't get a lot of free time to read the newspaper or go out for lunch with the other moms. It's nonstop vigilance and exhaustion. But the rewards can be great.

"It's like many things in life," said Hurdle. "You look for good, you're going to find good; you look for bad, you're going to find bad. There's a period where you need to get through the grieving, the challenges, that big picture of the unknown, and then, you know, it's kind of like, 'How do you eat an elephant?' One bite at a time. With Maddie, it's one day at a time."

One day at a time. With no promise or guarantee that it will ever get better. Just great joy in the smallest of triumphs.

John 11:44

And he who had died came out bound hand and foot with graveclothes, and his face was wrapped with a cloth. Jesus said to them, "Loose him, and let him go."

Jesus made Lazarus come alive again. But when he was raised, he was still bound in the graveclothes. Jesus said Lazarus needed to be loosed and set free.

Is this not also a picture of baptism and absolution? Jesus raises us up from the death of sin. He makes us alive. But we are still wrapped up in the sinful flesh from which we need to be set free. So Jesus tells His apostles and pastors,

"What ye shall bind, that bound shall be.
What ye shall loose, that shall be free.
Unto My Church the keys are given
to ope and close the gates of heaven.
When ministers lay on their hands
absolved by Christ the sinner stands." (TLH 331)

Did You Cover Everything???

My friend Cheryl has an article on natural learning. She gives an example like unto matters which all homeschool moms have experienced (but is so good to reminded of by someone who doesn't live in my house!).

In one paragraph she commented on the oft-heard query by non-homeschoolers: "How do you know you've covered everything they need to be taught?" Assuming that the conventional schools actually are the arbiter of "everything that needs to be covered" (which is certainly a debatable point!), then my question is:

"How do you know the students have retained even half of what you've taught them? And what good does it do to cover the material if the students didn't absorb it?"

ADHD Kid Goes to College

Learning Outside the Lines is excellent reading for kids with learning disabilities who are headed off to college. The subtitle is "Two Ivy League Students with Learning Disabilities and ADHD Give You the Tools for Academic Success and Education Revolution." The authors' experience and advice is full of helpful advice that left-brain students might find anathema. But for those who are bright and learn well -- but not in the "school way" -- this book will help them cope with the institutional environment and make the most of their college experience. It has practical, nitty-gritty advice on how to decide which assignments can receive the short-shrift, different methods of cramming before tests, and how to highlight passages in a text.

Frugal on the Soap

The people who make shower liners seem to put the built-in shelf for the soap in a place where the water is pounding on the bar of soap during a person's shower. Now, why would they do that? Are they in cahoots with the soap manufacturers? (I smell a conspiracy!!)

Using a "soap holster" sure does slow down how fast the soap melts! And they cost something like a whoppin' three bucks at K-Mart.

Hell

Here, we're on the 26th Sunday after Trinity. We skipped a couple of Sundays at Michaelmas, just like we always used to. But I've noticed most of the congregations on the one-year pericope series from LSB just plowed right through and are still on the 24th Sunday.

I'm used to thinking that the last Sunday in the church year is the parable of the ten virgins and that we sing Wake, Awake. I'm used to the next-to-last Sunday being the judgment at the end of the world (end of Mt 25) and that we sing The Day Is Surely Drawing Near. But I get the impression that not a lot of y'all did the "next-to-last Sunday" today. So then what happens to the clear and obvious teaching that hell really does exist? Do we just skip that now? I mean, really, how often will we be using ALL the Sundays after Trinity?

Manners and Caller-ID

It catches me off-guard when I call someone and they know who I am before I introduce myself. But that's okay.

What's not okay is the people who don't bother to introduce themselves. "Hi, it's me" is not enough. It's not enough to just launch into your message. Not everyone has caller-ID. Take the three seconds to tell your name to the person you're calling or to his answering machine.

And when it's not your habit to say your name at the start of every single phone call you make, then for heaven's sake, don't get huffy when the person doesn't call you back. Maybe the callee has no idea who the caller was.

Class Wish-List

Jane tagged me a while ago, and I've been tardy about responding. Now there's probably nobody left to tag because the meme has been making its rounds. So here's the plan, if you want to play, consider yourself tagged. (Boy, I just take the lazy gal's way out way too often, don't I?)

According to the original poster, the rules for this meme are: "Devise a list of 5-10 courses you would take to fix your life. It’s more fun to be in classes with friends, so include one class from the person who tagged you that you’d also like to take. Tag five." Like Barbara said, I'm not sure about these classes being "fix-its." But they are things I'd like to study.

1. Piano and organ. I learned some piano when I was younger, but I want to spend time on being good at it. And I'd like to be able to transfer that over to organ too.

2. Business management. Not about running the business and providing a good service and keeping accounts. But hoop-jumping. All the stuff a person would need to know to comply with the burdensome government regulations: employing minors, abiding by safety regulations, paying complicated taxes, properly labeling food items, liability insurance, kitchen inspections, etc.

3. Alternative health measures. Particularly herbology. But also massage and acupressure.

4. Knitting. Last winter I realized that every chilly breeze across my neck caused painful knots in my back. Finally I wised up and knitted myself a pretty scarf. When Nathan saw me knitting, he was shocked. "What are YOU doing knitting??" Oh, I loved it! The clack of those wooden needles. The restfulness. I would like to knit more. But all I can do are potholders and scarves and other straight stitches.

5. Language. German would be my first choice. But I'd like to be fluent in Greek and ideally learn some Latin too. Spanish would be nice, as far as communicating with the people around me. But German is most important: I want to read Gerhardt and Heermann and Luther hymns and know what they actually say!

6. Photography. I like pictures. And I'm so bad at taking them. With digital cameras, there's not the huge cost-factor of learning. This is the one I'd like to take with Jane (who tagged me) because she takes a lot of very nice pictures, so she could give me pointers!

7. Decorating and fashion. I don't do pretty. I have no sense of how to decorate a house, how to put flowers in a yard, how to put on make-up or dress stylishly. I can recognize what's pretty when I see it. But I have no clue whatsoever of how to make anything pretty. I'm beginning to wish I could do that.

Looking at that list, I guess I could actually make a case (convoluted though it might be) that the first five would in some small way "fix my life." But the last two would definitely be for pleasure only.

My June Project

I decided that we would begin decluttering after Rachel moved out. Uhhhh, that was at the end of May. (Don't you EVEN think of telling me that this is November!!!)

So....
now it's after Rachel moved out in May. I had boys haul many boxes of hand-me-down clothes upstairs today. We sorted. And sorted. And eliminated. Everybody except Maggie is done growing, so things that are too small or too short can take a hike, since there's nobody around to grow into boy-clothes.

I filled the back half of the van full to the bottom of the windows. That's a lot of clothes. But it will be easier to find what we need. And a lot of space has been freed up in the basement. As much as I hate letting go of things that I know I will absolutely desperately need in about 3 weeks, nevertheless I love the feeling of decluttering! It's so freeing! Right, Karin?

Dorm Choice

More and more colleges are building dorms with suites that consist of four or five tiny bedrooms and a private bathroom and possibly a kitchenette too. There's something very attractive about this arrangement.

One word of caution: if you live in a suite, you will be the one doing the cleaning.

I think that a kid would be really really lucky if he found himself in one of these suite arrangements and did half the cleaning while the other roommates (all put together) shared the other half of the bathroom cleaning.

It's no big deal to clean up after yourself. It's not even too bad to clean up after your siblings, since you know that they have their own chores where they're cleaning up after you. (Besides, there's this Mom-Ogre who doesn't let anybody give themselves over to utterly gross sloppiness.) But it's harder to clean up after roommates who fully believe in Bathroom Fairies and Kitchenette House-Elves who magically take care of all their messes.

Now, that doesn't mean that suites are a bad idea. There are certain huge benefits to that dorm-arrangement. But those who choose it should not anticipate that others will do their share of cleaning, or even participate in what would normally be considered simply picking up after themselves.

A Glimmer of Hope

When everything looks entirely hopeless (in a temporal sense) it gets wearying. Then God sends Christian friends with support in the forms of prayers and hugs and words of encouragement and cash. And it begins to look like maybe, somehow, possibly, there might be a chance that things could work out (temporally) even though it will involve a lot of struggle and a lot of trial and a lot of difficulty. And a little energy comes back, and the outlook on life brightens a bit, and there's something to work for, there's a direction to head.

And then the rug gets pulled out from under you again. And you wonder if the few days of rest from (temporal) despair was a blessing in that it was a little break from sadness. Or was it just something that gave false hope, something that makes the depths seem deeper than before?

And yet, I guess at least when that happens we know that energy can be revived. I suppose that's something to hang onto.

Nutrition Nazi Meets a Cookie

Yesterday I had tea and cookies.

"What's wrong with that?" you ask. Uhhhhh, all I had was tea and cookies.

I had a couple of mugs of green tea during Bible class. Not too bad. Think of all those nice little antioxidants happily running around my veins. But Judy brought those cookies to Bible class, the ones with the brownie crust and the gooey cheesecake top. (If this was television, you'd see me melting into my chair with drool running out of my mouth and a blissful glazed look in my eye.) And Carol brought oatmeal cookies, soft and luscious oatmeal cookies. The problem with Carol's cookies was that they were cut into 1" squares. And as we all know, cookies that little don't count. They have no calories. So if you eat 3, that's like eating nothing. And if you eat 72, well, hey, 72x0=0, right?

People often leave leftovers from the treats at church, but Carol tells me that Pastor doesn't want all those cookies. He says she's trying to fatten him up. So both Judy and Carol sent cookies with me instead. Oh, and they were good cookies! Gary had a meeting after Bible class, so I stayed at church and worked, and kept popping those too-little-to-have-calories cookies into my mouth. I did have half a bottle of kombucha in the midst of my cookie-munchfest.

Can you say "spoiled appetite"???

In the midst of my genius-child exuberance, one child suggested to another child that mom must've been doing drugs today. That's when I admitted to them (at 8:30 p.m.) that I had had NO food all day, except cookies. Ah. Mom was hopped up on cookies!

Maybe we need some real food today. REAL real-food. And maybe I ought to think about maybe developing a small bit of self-control when it comes to cookies?

The Popsicle Plan

Narcotics and men in their seventies do not mix.

On the evening of Dad's surgery (a couple of weeks ago) I was sitting with him after everyone else went home. His mouth was dry and he wanted a drink! He was getting a morphine drip in an epidural as well as having morphine in a patient-controled pump.

Having spent months with eating difficulties, he had heard repeatedly from the doctor that popsicles would help keep him from dehydrating. The doctor had told him to eat popsicles. Yes, the doctor had told him that ... the previous week. But nobody would give him a drink, and the only reason given was simply because it was a mere 8 hours after a humongous surgery.

So, the nurses were out at the nurses' station. Mom was gone. My brother and sister were gone. And Dad had a plan. He told me where I could obtain the popsicles for the patients, out in the hallway, near the coffee machines. He told me where the paper towels were, and that he would need several of them to wrap around the stick of the popsicle so as to keep the sticky drips off his hands. He told me where the towels were stored in the room, and that I needed to lay a towel on his chest so that popsicle drips would go on the towel instead of on his hospital gown. Then we would hide the towel in the bottom of the dirty-linen hamper, so the nurse would never know what we'd been up to.

He had a really well-thought-out plan. A sneaky scheme! And this was a guy doped up on morphine? Somehow, he couldn't understand that he wasn't ready to eat yet. But the rest of the Popsicle Plan was flawless.

If only he had a daughter who would help him execute his schemes instead of hauling the nurse into the room!

Genius-Child Dance

Wooohoooo!
Paul got back his ACT scores and they were good!
Maggie's swimming teacher stopped me after class and told me how rapidly she is improving and that her front crawl is getting really good!
And I read the reference letters that people wrote for one of Paul's college scholarship applications, and they make him sound every bit as wonderful as I know him to be!

John 10:31

AGAIN they picked up stones to stone Jesus? AGAIN? Y'know, when you start looking at what was happening that year, no wonder the disciples weren't keen on Jesus' going to Jerusalem for Passover.

In September, at the Feast of Booths, somebody got excommunicated from the synagogue for daring to admit that Jesus healed his blindness. At the same festival, the Jews tried to kill Jesus by stoning.

A few months later, they tried to stone Him to death again at Hanukkah.

And then He went and raised Lazarus from the dead, as if they weren't ticked off at Him enough before.

He was really making a habit of going to church for the special, high, holy services of the church-year, and setting Himself up for assassination attempts. And then He went and did it again at Passover. Third time's a charm, they say. And the Jews accomplished their mission. Finally.

But so did the God of Compassion.

Dinner-Time

It's been about 19 years, I think, that our family has been eating dinner in the middle of the day instead of in the evening like normal Americans. I love it. It's better for your health. The food is digested during the day when your metabolism is higher and you're burning the calories. That means less weight gain and more nutrition absorption from the same food. Eating dinner mid-day and eating very light in the evening also seems to cut down on reflux problems and hot flashes overnight. There are other health benefits too, but I can't remember them off the top of my head right now (and my nutrition books are not with me while I'm away from home right now).

The problem is that most families cannot gather for dinner in the middle of the day. As we're looking at the need for Gary to obtain income from outside the congregation, dinner-time is probably something we'll lose. When the kids were little, those studies came out about the importance of the family eating together. With grade-schoolers and toddlers and a daddy who worked less than a block away from home, it was easy to have every meal together. As the kids grew and got jobs, it became nigh onto impossible to have a set meal-time that allowed everyone to gather daily. So we just had our dinner, and everybody who was available came to eat. But if Daddy is gone at dinner-time every day, I think we're going to have to adjust dinner-time to the evening time. It's just kind of sad to think of how that's going to mess with our days and our digestion, though. I don't want to have to make decisions about trade-offs between health and family togetherness. But I suppose it's something the whole rest of the world does, and we've just been spoiled the last couple of decades. Oh well.

Dying Congregations

We're always being told that "dying congregations" are a very bad thing. Congregations should be ALIVE, not dying, right?

But sometimes the demographics don't hardly allow for anything but a dying congregation. After all, people get old and ... die. In some rural areas, virtually every kid grows up and moves to the city where colleges and employment opportunities are available. In some rural areas, agricultural zoning laws really don't allow for newcomers to move in -- at least not in any numbers. And that's really not a bad thing either: some of the farmland has to be reserved for farming instead of for those new and massive subdivisions and outlying suburbs.

So what happens to congregations in those kinds of areas? The young people move away. New people don't arrive. Old people die. Of course, there are some folks who will drive 30 or 40 or 70 minutes to get to a church where there's liturgy and faithful preaching. But most people either can't or won't drive that far. Seems pretty clear to me that there are congregations that will die.

But those old folks who are living happily in the boonies still need a pastor. The hard thing, then, is what becomes of the pastor who ends up with no income. (Also, this is a compelling factor in why rural congregations in particular should be loathe to sell off their parsonages!)

Coyotes

All right, it's one thing when you hear a coyote or two howling at night. But now there's a pack of them. And they're getting closer to the house.

The cats are no longer begging to be out at night, hunting gophers and mice. They are content to be indoors during the dark. That's unusual.

When the boys and I were in Colorado a year ago for the Higher Things youth conference, we visited Pike's Peak. Andrew picked up a stick that was good and thick, with several sharp prongs at the end. He called it "Lionsbane" and intended to use it to beat off any wild and vicious animals we should encounter on our trip up the mountain. (I'm pretty sure this was all a big joke in his mind.) But then we did see a mountain lion, lazing on a rock in the sunshine, when we were walking around a little higher up the peak. Of course, at that point Lionsbane was in the car and wouldn't have been any help should the lion have bothered to saunter over our direction.

When I walked over to church in the dark the other day to set up the altar, I heard the coyote pack. They weren't as nearby as we've been hearing them recently. But it crossed my mind that Lionsbane may need to be stored near the front door. Maybe we need to change some habits, and begin to take care (and carry a club) when we go outdoors in the dark. Maybe we'll even have to learn to take out the trash during daylight hours.

Anfechtung

I found this in an article by Dr Scaer, published in a 1980 Lutheran Synod Quarterly and reprinted in a 1983 Concordia Theological Quarterly.

Anfectungen are not to be regarded as simply problems or troubles disturbing human existence, capable of medical or psychiatric solution, but they are to be regarded as a direct and effectual Satanic working in a Christian's life meant to bring him to unbelief.

There's a lot more in the article I'd like to quote. But not now. I'm back at my folks visiting again, and really ought to get over to the hospital to see Dad. (Rachel and Katie, Grandpa had emergency surgery on Sunday night. I don't have your phone numbers here, and I don't know if Daddy called you.)

Readability

Ah, success!

I saw that Pastor Esget's blog rated a "College Level." So I had to try it too. Being a homeschool mommy, my goal is to say whatever-I-have-to-say in a clear, down-home, easy-to-understand way. In other words, a Dummy's Book for whatever I'm discussing. I guess I'm on target so far with my blog. I hope I'm doing as well with the real-life stuff too.

Even though I know what big words mean, even though I like to use big words sometimes, I sure do appreciate being able to easily understand what's said to me. The more decrepit my mind gets, the more I need to try to follow the POINT instead of figuring out what's being said. It's such a brain-strain to try to converse with someone when the phone connection is bad and you're struggling to catch the words. (And this is how hard-of-hearing people spend their days, all day, every day!) So I appreciate a "Dummy's Level" explanation. Thus, that's how I talk. And write.

And the badge above declares me a success!

Suing God

I guess this post is going to reveal how out-of-the-loop I am on current events. The kids and I got behind on our current events newspaper and were reading the mid-October issue this evening. One of the stories was about a Nebraska state senator bringing a lawsuit against God, accusing Him of terrorist activity. The stupidity and ludicrousness of the lawsuit is almost funny -- except when you think about what's going to happen to this poor sinner when he dies. The thing I found most blasphemous in the reports is the plaintiff's statement that God "has manifested neither compassion nor remorse."


I merit not Thy favor, Lord,
Sin now upon me lieth.
Beneath my burden, self-abhorred,
To Thee my spirit crieth.
In all my grief this comforts me,
That Thou on sinners graciously,
Lord Jesus, hast compassion. (TLH 312)

Iron Giant

We watched an animated movie last night that came recommended through Backwoods Home Magazine. Because Claire Wolfe's review talked about the movie being a bit of a commentary on intrusive government, and because we were exhausted and looking for something "lite" last night, we were a little leery of the movie. We thought there might be too much depth, too much thinking, not enough laughing.

But we got the best of both worlds.

Iron Giant is a cute movie about a robot that lands here from outer space. It starts off a bit like Androcles and the Lion. One of the kids commented on the anti-gun theme through the movie (which is something that surprised us, given where we found the movie recommendation in the first place), but it wasn't altogether bad, with most of the anti-gun stuff being about offensive use of weapons. The fun part was that there were just a lot of laughs throughout the movie, and a lot of cute little spots that make you grin and say, "Awwwww!"

The review for my mom:
language: I think there was one bad word
sex: nope
violence: not really
setting: It is labeled sci-fi only because of the robot. Sci-fi is not generally anything I like, but this is not what I would call science fiction.
kid-friendliness: Andrew said it bored him when he saw it at Caseys' a few years ago, but he seemed to enjoy it last night. Maggie didn't care for it.


All in all, Iron Giant is one I could certainly watch again a time or two!

November 11

Thank God for the soldiers who defend us!

Stain Fighter

Last October I wrote a blogpost about saving a cute Halloween shirt from wretched stain. The pertinent paragraph is:

So to make my shirt wearable, I hauled out my trusty bleach+milk concoction. That stuff is utterly amazing! I fill a shot-glass nearly half full of milk (the higher the fat content, the better) and fill it the rest of the way with bleach. It can't be made ahead; there's a chemical reaction that causes a slight color change and a significant rise in temperature; the effectiveness lasts for 10 minutes or less. Using an old toothbrush to scrub that concoction into a stain on white fabric has done wonders to clean things. I don't trust it; it's pretty strong on the bleach and I'm never sure whether it might ruin something. But when an alb or a surplice gets such horrid sweat stains at the neckline that it's in dire need of replacement, I've discovered that bleach+milk will garner us several more years before we have to go ahead and order new vestments for the pastor. (Those you can't pick up at Goodwill for three bucks like you can kids' clothes.)

Yesterday I tried it on a colored garment. I had a kombucha stain on a cuddly-soft gray turtleneck that had sleeves long enough for a chimpanzee. (In other words, the cuffs actually made it all the way to my wrists!) The stains were bad enough that even I, messy pig though I be, was getting ashamed to wear it. So I tried the bleach & milk. It worked! And there aren't even white spots. The stain-fighter left the gray color in the shirt unmolested, but the stain is gone.

All right. Maybe this is goofy to be excited about. But I guess I get cheap thrills now and then!

How Was That Spelled?

A few of us were at a College Visit Day today. As we were touring the campus, I noticed an announcement on the in-house tv station. Apparently it's "International Education Week." Got that? Education. About international matters. Education.

So what's on the menu for one of the days of International Education Week? Tailand dinner.

Ah, maybe a little more education IS in order!

My Shower

When I'm taking a shower, do I really need to know that So-and-So picked up the kitten? While my hair is lathered with shampoo, am I prepared to give a report on the outdoor temperature today -- to a child who is capable of walking to the front door and looking at the thermometer herself? While I have soap in my eyes, is it necessary for me to grade math worksheets orally, while the questions are being yelled through the door?

"They say" homeschoolers are in need of socialization. I say that I have no desire whatsoever to socialize while I'm in the shower or on the toilet. There is a REASON bathrooms have doors on them. How hard is this to understand???

Slipping Off

I haven't worn shoes with heels for ages. I mean, like, years. And by "heels," I mean something where my heels are even with or higher than my toes. If I recall correctly, the last time I wore heels was prior to our family-trip to Daytona, when my mom and aunt were both telling me that I'd better get Birkenstocks before I forced myself into podiatric inserts. That was seven years ago.

My Birkies were falling apart. I was tripping over the loose soles. My friend Julie reminded me that it's okay (!!) to buy a new pair of shoes when yours are falling to pieces. But my shoes are Birkenstocks. And they fit me. And they're comfortable. (Those of you who do not wear Birkies do not know the love-fest that can occur between a girl and her shoes!)

So I epoxied the soles back on.

Julie thought I should still have better shoes. So today she brought me a pair of hand-me-downs that were lying around her house. Now, any NORMAL person would look at these shoes and say they're flats. Since I've been wearing them however, I have had the distinct feeling that I'm about to pitch forward and land on my nose. These heels are just gonna tip me right over on my face.

I think I've become a hippie who is addicted to my negative-heel Birkenstocks.

Depression Meds

Band-aids do not cure cuts. Band-aids do not help a wound to heal. Band-aids are useful in keeping a cut clean, so that infection is not so likely to set in. Band-aids are good for keeping blood out of the stewpot when you chopped your thumb when you intended to be chopping the onions and carrots.

I wonder if that may be what depression medications do. (No! Not the part about keeping red-cells out of your dinner!) I suspect that depression meds don't really solve the problem. In some cases, they are necessary to deal with fall-out from a problem. Or they may keep a problem from worsening, as a bandage protects a wound from being scratched or dirtied. Or maybe the meds temporarily alleviate stress so that a person can more easily focus efforts on other solutions to the depression. But can they actually be the solution themselves?

And on that tack, what is the difference between anfechtung and clinical depression? Because a prescription sure ain't gonna cure anfechtung.

Did We Miss It?

As we were driving past Bloomington today, an anxious child asks, "Did we miss the exit?"

"Nooooo," says the mother. "We didn't miss the exit."

Child knows that the Market Street exit in Bloomington is loaded with fast-food joints. And she knows the mother had gift certificates to Wendy's (courtesy of an aunt and uncle last Christmas). However, the mother is aware that the child has had enough junk food over the last few days.

So about fifteen minutes later, child asks again, "Are we to Bloomington yet?"

"Oh, we're way past it."

"We missed the exit!!!"

No, we didn't miss it."

Oh,.... the definitions of "miss."

Time Change

Hey, I think I've discovered the secret to getting through time-change weekend painlessly! Travel one time-zone east!

Saturday I took a couple of kids and headed off to see Katie and Nathan. Katie and I sorted through the digital pictures from the wedding (already!?!) to get some photos printed out. We'll get to attend some awesome chapel services in connection with the Good Shepherd Institute's symposium. I intend to make Katie take me to her nursing home so I can see where she works and meet a few people over there. And I might even get to spend a little time with some friends too ... as if time with Katie and Nathan didn't already just load up the days with happiness!

It was easy to get up for church on Sunday morning, because their "hour early" (for time change) was the right time it would've been at home without time change. My body is taking this time-change easier than any in years. I suppose being off-schedule a bit, what with all the driving, will help us fall right into the proper times when we arrive back home.

I don't think it'd work to go west for "spring forward" weekend next spring. The Mountain Time Zone is just too far away for a goofy little thing like easing my body into the time-change. But I can dream, can't I?

The Same Tune

For the All Saints Day celebration at church, we sang Ye Watchers and Ye Holy Ones (TLH 475). For those who don't know, the song basically calls on the angels, the Blessed Virgin Mary, the patriarchs and prophets, the apostles and martyrs, and the saints triumphant, to join the church militant in singing praises to the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

But it's the same tune as St Bede's well-known Ascension hymn (TLH 212). So while you're singing the words of Ye Watchers and Ye Holy Ones, the other lines are running through your head too. "'This is the Savior,' thus they say. 'This is His noble triumph day.'" And "Again shall ye behold Him so, as ye today have seen Him go." And "Oh, grant us thitherward to tend and with unwearied hearts ascend."

I dunno. Maybe other people don't get excited about those things. Sometimes I just think it's a right-brained thing about making connections all over the place...

Attending Funerals

Until I was school-aged, and classes interfered, I remember going to funerals at church with my mom and grandma. They always seemed to be people I didn't know. Of course, I was 4 or 5; who would I know? Probably my mom and grandma knew the deceased, but that didn't make an impression on me. All I knew was that we went to funerals at church, even if I didn't know the people.

So when I grew up and had kids of my own, I went to the funerals at church. I suppose some people thought it was because I was the pastor's wife. But it wasn't. It was because of Mom and Nanna. And because I figured it was just right to go the funeral of those with whom you'd worshiped, those brothers and sisters in Christ, even if you didn't know them that well. They are family, regardless of whether you play cards with them, go to picnics with them, or sit next to them in the pew. So that's what we did. Even when a pastor told me once that it was "sorry" and "pitiful" for people to go to funerals of folks they don't know.

Then Pastor said something in Bible class recently that I never thought of before. He was in the midst of explaining to us how to talk to unbelieving friends and family members and co-workers about the Faith. It wasn't a pep-talk about how to "do evangelism." It was just the simple stuff of what to say (the contents of the creed) and what not to say (your "testimonial"). He mentioned -- somewhat in passing -- that this was why it was important to come to funerals at church, even if you barely know the person. At funerals, the Christian brothers and sisters are speaking the Faith to the mourners. The Christian mourners need to have the support of fellow-Christians in their time of need. But the unbelieving mourners hear the Gospel sung and spoken by the church-family. The unbelievers are there with the church-family and not "just" the pastor (who, in their minds, is there just because it's his job).

Who would've ever thought to list "attend funerals" under the heading "Evangelism Efforts"?

Health Insurance

If my neighbor is behind on his electric bill and is about to have his power turned off, I can pay his bill for him if I so choose. If I want to plunk down some tuition money for my son-in-law's account at the seminary, the sem thinks that's just dandy. I don't think our credit card company cares at all who pays my monthly bill, just so long as it gets paid.

Our health insurance is not like that. The premiums must be paid by the employer, on a check that has the employer's name and address on it. If the employer is behind on payments, no one else can "help out" and pay the bill. I'm not sure of the reasoning behind that. The health insurance people tried to explain it to me; it's something about the premiums being the responsibility of the employer, and so they cannot accept funds from the employee or from other entities. However, that really leaves an employee in a humongous pickle if, for some reason, the church treasurer cannot or will not pay the premium. No one else is allowed to step in with assistance. I cannot understand, though, why it would matter to the insurer where the premiums arrived from.

Dumb Cat

Rosie Cotton (the kitten) loves water. She always wants to stick her head down into our water glasses and have us share our water. She will knock water glasses over if she can't get her head far enough down in the glass to lap it up; that way she can drink the puddle. Do you have any idea how hilarious it looks to see a cat's head all smooshed up inside a clear glass tumbler?

She's figured something out. Toothbrushes mean water. If somebody is brushing teeth, that means the water in the bathroom sink will be running off and on, and she can lap up water from around the sink drain. After some pretty funny mishaps, she's gotten adept at jumping up to the sink to poke her nose into the toothbrushing business.

But her ears aren't quite finely attuned to the precise sound of water in the sink. If somebody goes into the bathroom and pees (which does happen, now and then, y'know, with six people living here) the kitten hears "water running." She comes in a hurry, barges in, jumps up into the sink, and is shocked to find the sink dry. Now, just what's up with THAT?

(It's good to have a clown in the house!)

And Now ....

the stove is not working. Looks like I'm going to be back to cooking at church and in the crockpots, like it was in September. Of course, one of the crockpot lids broke, so now I'm down to only one of those. Cooking at church is going to be a bigger pain than it was before, running back and forth in the cold, and carrying food back to the house through the cold.

Psalm 46:5

God is in the midst of her;
she shall not be moved.
God shall help her
just at the break of dawn.

Y'know what that means, doncha?
You go through the whole long dark night,
and finally the help comes with the morning light.
But you still go through the time of darkness when it seems there is no help from God.

Liturgy

Gina has a great blog post about her reactions to the liturgy when she first found herself in need of a church, and what it's like for an unworthy sinner to be confronted by the Gospel instead of moralism.

The Long Warfare

After two months of severe health problems for my dad, the doctors finally discovered the problem. Doctors don't often get the response, "Oh, good!" when they announce a cancer diagnosis. But when the doctors finally pinpoint a problem and have a surgery to correct the heretofore undiagnosed distress, it's really quite a relief.

The surgery was done. Recuperation has begun. And it's going better than the recuperation from last year's surgery.

One thing stunned me, though. After two days of my being in hospital waiting rooms, swabbing lips, adjusting pillows, holding hands, sitting with mom & sibs, eating cafeteria food instead of my own cooking, not getting much sleep, etc,

when I came home I realized that it was less stressful at the hospital than it is at home. There's something seriously wrong when being at the hospital while your beloved father is having surgery ... is a restful vacation compared to your regular everyday life.

I'm tired.



And when the fight is fierce,
the warfare long,
steals on the ear
the distant triumph song.
And hearts are brave again
and arms are strong.
Alleluia! (TLH 463)

One-Year Series

I really really really like the one-year series for the lectionary. I like that I hear the same readings over and over, out of the same Bible translation, and begin to learn them and the flow of the wording. I like how that familiarity (not unlike having memorized the catechism) informs our understanding of (and interpretation of) other Bible passages. I like that with the 1-year series I always know the flow of the church year. Having different readings on the third Sunday after Easter (for example) seems as unsettling to me as it would be to celebrate Thanksgiving in March or to celebrate Valentines Day in June.

I don't do change well.

Code "Speed"

People usually know that when the nurses "call a code" in the hospital, it's not a good thing. However, it IS very important to be clear on which "code" they're calling. We learned the other night that "code: speed" (at least at that particular hospital) is the code which intercepts a situation that's going downhill rapidly. It doesn't mean the heart has stopped or the breathing has stopped. It just means that they're taking measures right away to ensure that the patient doesn't get anywhere close to "code blue."

But when a person gets a phone call in the middle of the night and the message is that they "called a code" on a loved one, and that he's unresponsive, it's not QUITE time to panic yet.

Now, you're not going to remember that when you get a phone call at 2 a.m., are you?

Dry Lips

When people are on IV's after surgery and can't have anything by mouth, their lips get really dry -- dry to the point of splitting and bleeding. The hospital gives you little swabby things to moisten the patient's mouth and lips. But it just isn't enough to take care of the problem.

I have been very pleased with Vitamin E. If you take one of those capsules with vitamin-E oil, and poke a hole in it, you can squeeze the E-oil out onto the dry lips. (Or dry skin. Or split heels.) It's sticky stuff, but it does wonders to keep the moisture locked in. And the vitamin helps heal cracks.

Refrigerator Muffins

As per Rachel's request,


box of Raisin Bran or Bran Flakes (10-15 oz.)
2.5 cups sugar
5 cups flour
2 tsp salt
1.5 Tbsp baking soda

4 beaten eggs
1 quart buttermilk
1 cup olive oil (or other veg oil)

Mix dry ingredients.
Add wet ingredients.
Mix well.
Store in covered container in fridge for up to six weeks. (If they're going to last that long, make sure you buy eggs with a far-away expiration date!)

Bake in greased muffin tins, 15-20 minutes at about 375-400.
Makes about 5 dozen muffins.

This Is the Feast

I love the canticle "This Is the Feast." It makes a lovely communion-distribution hymn, especially during Eastertide.

But I'm not fond of having it between the Kyrie and the Collect. Nothing wrong with it there, except that it displaces the Gloria in Excelsis.

There's so much to the liturgy. It is deep and profound. There is no way to plumb all the wonders of the historic liturgy. A long time ago I read an article that touched on another aspect of the liturgy that I'd never considered: the life of Christ being rehearsed each week in the structure of the Service.

We have the Old Testament hymns of the Church in the introit psalm. Then we pray for God's mercy. He answered that prayer in the incarnation of His Son, which we sing about in the angels' Christmas song (the Gloria in Excelsis). We hear about Jesus' ministry; we hear His preaching. Then we sing the Sanctus, joining in the hymn sung by the crowds on Palm Sunday: "Hosanna! Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord." Then we get to Maundy Thursday and the Words of Institution. That is followed by what happened on Good Friday: "O Christ, Thou Lamb of God, that takest away the sin of the world, have mercy upon us."

The canticles highlight (in chronological order) the most important events which accomplished our salvation. As nice as "This Is the Feast" is, using it in place of the Gloria in Excelsis disturbs this aspect of meditating upon Jesus' work to save us.

Creme Brulee

After a gazillion times of watching High School Musical, we decided to try making "the perfect creme brulee." Well, not the perfect one, but just a stab at it.

Basically, first you make the custard and chill it. Then you put on the brown sugar top and melt/caramelize/burn it. We put it under the broiler. Didn't work well at all. It tasted like custard with an over-toasted marshmallow on top. We decided that apple Betty was better.

Now I'm curious as to what a "perfect creme brulee" tastes like. Would it be as good as I wished, or would I still think that banana cream pie, or a Snickers, or Julie's apple cake are better desserts?

Caskets

I am SO far behind on reading my Backwoods Home Magazines. But I was doing a little skimming during Maggie's swimming lesson recently. I ran across an article that really intrigued me: Funerals Don't Have to Be Expensive in the September 2005 issue. (See, I told you I was behind on my reading!)

It's hard to check out websites when you're sitting poolside. So tonight I finally got around to checking up on a few of these items. Turns out that the very nice cardboard casket in the article is no longer being manufactured. But there's a whole list of alternative suppliers of caskets. Maybe I'm morbid, but I kind of like the idea of spending $500 for a casket now, using it as a bookshelf or a linen chest, and then not having to pay the funeral director $6000 for a casket when we need one. Or maybe it's not being morbid so much as it is just being a tightwad. Of course, this scheme would leave me (or my family) with having loads of company for a funeral, and having the couch, chairs, and tables all covered with BOOKS that used to live in the casket/bookshelf and have recently been displaced.

Gary's been saying for quite a while that he should probably check out the funeral homes around here, and their prices. It would be something he could do at a leisurely pace so that the information would be available to church members when they're not in an emotional state to sort through all the decisions. I'd like to know what kind of pine boxes the funeral homes have available, so as to know whether to mail-order a casket from the guys who make Jewish caskets or easy-to-assemble pine boxes, or whether we could count on the more expensive caskets made by monks which can be shipped in the space of a day or two.

I fully intend to be one of those cruel and heartless customers who will boldly insist on seeing the "unacceptable caskets," the "welfare caskets," when visiting the morticians. I have no patience with salemen who try to pressure me into buying things. Kids, don't let them talk you into burying me and your dad in fancy boxes. Tell 'em your folks would be just fine with a used refrigerator box from the appliance store, if that were legal. And Mom, I'll go along with whatever the other kids say, and won't force them into picking cardboard or pine unless you want us to.

Psalm 78:60

He forsook the tabernacle of Shiloh,
the tent He had placed among men,
and delivered His strength into captivity,
and His glory into the enemy's hand.

In the context of the psalm, which gives a run-down of Israel's history, this is obviously a reference to 1 Samuel 4-5 where the ark of the covenant is captured by the Philistines and placed in Dagon's temple.

I noticed too that the psalm makes plain that GOD was the one who delivered that ark into the hands of the Philistines; it wasn't that the Philistines overpowered God's people such that they could capture the Israelite God.

But, hey, we've been doing John at Thursday morning Bible class for the last year. So when I see "tabernacle" and "glory," I'm musing on the first chapter of John's gospel. Is this psalm about Jesus? The Father forsook the tabernacle, that is, the Son that He sent to mankind. On the cross, Jesus (the strength and the glory of God) was delivered into the enemy's hand. If this psalm is about Jesus, and if the capture of the ark was about Jesus too, then a person might even begin to wonder if part of the story is a picture of the descent into hell.

For all outward appearances, both the capture of the ark and the descent into hell were "loser" times for God. But that wasn't the reality. Look at what happened in Dagon's temple. The ark came in. And Dagon fell on his face. Dagon's priests set him upright. Next morning, Dagon was on his face again, with his head and hands broken off. Likewise, when Jesus descended into hell, it wasn't an oopsie that He had to cope with. He chose to be in that position, and it was a triumph for Him. "And every knee shall bow, in heaven, and on the earth, and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ IS Lord to the glory of God the Father."

John 20:20

Okay, maybe this is a no-brainer for y'all, but I was just tickled when I noticed this today. Supposedly we were studying John 13 in Bible class today, but Pastor got off on one of his "foot theology" tangents, and how the Absolution plays into that, so he was reading to us from the Quasimodo Geniti gospel.

Then, the same day at evening, being the first day of the week, when the doors were shut where the disciples were assembled, for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood in the midst, and said to them, "Peace be with you." When He had said this, He showed them His hands and His side. Then the disciples were glad when they saw the Lord. So Jesus said to them again, "Peace to you!"

Y'know, I'd always thought that Jesus' showing them His wounds was one thing, and the blessing of peace was another. Y'know, He comes in, forgives them ("Peace to you") and then shows them His hands and side. Like, say, maybe to prove it was the same guy who got crucified? Or like, maybe, to show that Friday's wounds didn't keep Him from rising? Or like, maybe, this was the first resurrection appearance to which they'd have to witness, so they'd better get a good look? Okay, well, maybe all those things come into play a bit.

But it's more than that!!! He shows them His hands and side because those wounds are what made for the peace that He spoke unto them.

It's all connected.
The peace cannot BE without the wounds.
(I just think this is SO cool !!!!)

Green Drink

Whole-food vitamins seem to me to be a much better way to get supplemental nutrients into a body than using the chemical vitamins so often found in a drug-store aisle. Problem is, whole-food vitamins are not cheap (as seen by this example). I've seen price-tags of $80-120 per month per person. The cheapest I've seen is at Basics where I could get a month's worth for one person for $40 ($32 on Super-Tuesday). That's just totally out of our price range, no matter how wondrous the testimonials are as to the health benefits!

Instead of whole-food vitamins, I make green drink. It's basically the whole-food vitamins without the capsule wrapped around it. I could theoretically put the green-drink powder into capsules, but I am just waaaaay too lazy for that! So instead, I drink what my loving children fondly (or not so fondly) refer to as "pond scum."


A recipe for Green Drink is one pound each of:
alfalfa powder
wheatgrass powder
beet root powder
barley grass powder
spirulina
nutritional yeast (or catnip powder)

I prefer to make Super Green Drink,
one pound each of:
blue-green algae powder
spinach leaf powder
chlorella powder
rosehips powder
orange peel
lemon peel
alfalfa powder
wheatgrass powder
beet root powder
barley grass powder
spirulina
nutritional yeast (or catnip powder).

Yes, this is a mixture consisting mostly of grasses and algaes. Hence the term "pond scum."

The ingredients are mixed in equal amounts (by weight). Store covered, in a cool dark place, in a glass or plastic container. Combine a cup of cool water with a heaping tablespoon of powder. It's easiest to mix it if you use a glass jar with a screw-on lid, and shake it vigorously. One glass daily provides more nutrition than you'd get from your typical over-the-counter vitamin pill.

When I first started drinking it, it tasted very very GREEN. So I started by mixing a teaspoon instead of a tablespoon. And sometimes I added an ounce of orange juice. But eventually I got to where I could drink it. It's not exactly good. But last time I mixed up a batch, it was $7/pound, which is a pittance compared to the handy-dandy whole-food vitamins that come in capsules so as to hide the greenness from your tastebuds.

In case you're interested, I buy my powders from AmeriHerb. A catalog is available by calling 1-800-267-6141.

Friendship Sunday

Last month, a synodical representative met with the members of our church to discuss the difficult situation in which we find ourselves [money trouble]. Pastor X advised that we need to serve more cookies and donuts, have more potlucks, invite people to dinner in our homes, and call people by their first name repeatedly. That will show friendliness and people will flock to our church. More people would mean more offerings. Our money problems will be solved. When attendance at Bible class was suggested as a possible beginning to dealing with our problems, that solution was not embraced.

To be fair to Pastor X, follow-up conversations indicated that he didn't fully realize that that was pretty much all he said during the meeting, and that he actually does think there's more to be said. (You know how sometimes you think things but they don't actually make it all the way out your mouth?) Also, in the intervening weeks, he's come to realize that the situation is a little more complex than he suspected on the night he first met with the congregation.

One of the guys at church has taken to heart the advice about friendliness. So he has planned a Friendship Sunday. Coffee and donuts will pre-empt the second half of Sunday School that day. Today I read in Luther (page 384 of Day By Day We Magnify Thee) this quote:

The Word and doctrine will create Christian unity or fellowship. Where they reign all else will follow. Where they are not no concord will ever abide. Therefore do not talk to me about love and friendship, if that means breaking with the Word, or the faith -- for the Gospel does not say love brings eternal life, God's grace, and all heavenly treasures, but the Word.

Tomatoes

Our area had a hard frost on September 14. My tomatoes made it through. Here it is, six weeks later, and I'm still getting fresh garden tomatoes. Not in abundance, but still enjoying a few here and there.

But they say you're not supposed to store tomatoes in the fridge. Outdoors overnight, it's refrigerator temperature. I'm wondering if that's going to be bad for the fruit.

Heresy

We distracted ourselves from life and did something totally uncharacteristic tonight. We just up and went to a play. I wanted so desperately to go back to APT to see Merchant of Venice again, but we couldn't fit in another visit before the end of the season. However, Merchant was the show they took on the road this year. So we went to tonight's play. Even though we had to buy tickets [gasp!]. But it was worth it! Annnnd we ended up in the spit-zone (aka, front row). Wow!

There were a lot of lines I wanted to come home and look up. One was from Bassanio. He was trying to decide which choice to make. (For those of you who don't know the story, it was kinda sorta like the girl he loved was behind "Let's Make a Deal" Door#1, Door#2, or Door #3.) To help him decide whether to choose the gorgeous option, the very nice option, or the outwardly ugly option, he mused on two analogies: one from law, the other from religion. What was duh!-factor obvious to Bassanio was something we today are suckers for buying into.

In religion, what damned error, but some sober brow will bless it and approve it with a text, hiding the grossness with fair ornament?

Ain't THAT the truth?!? Gussy-up heresy and we think it's pretty.

Depression-Era Mentality

They say that people that lived through the Great Depression learned to make do, but that for decades afterward it had an effect on the way they viewed possessions and frugality. But I think I've developed that depression-era mentality. I had to be in the mall today (to pick up a free item designed to entice us into the store to spend money) and was really rather offended by all the consumerism, the cookie store, the food court, all the clothes and shoes and jewelry and technological devices. Last week when I did paper route, I was offended by the amount of Halloween decorations out. Not because of the gore, but because of the sheer amount of dollars spent on something as frivolous as Halloween decorations. This does not set well with me that I think this: I'm too much the free-enterprise, conservative believer-in-capitalism to have these viewpoints. But there are so many things like that. I simply cannot comprehend that people have enough money to spend $20/week/child on music lessons. I simply cannot comprehend that some families do Disneyland every year. It's beyond me that I know people with antique cars or sports cars that they have just for fun. I am dumbfounded by the socializing at a bar (with $5 drinks) at pastors' conferences.

Weird thing is that I don't resent people for what they have. I just feel like such a foreigner, such a misfit, such a freak.

And I'm not sure what to do about decluttering. I'm afraid that sometimes I want to take things to Goodwill that anybody else would consider to be complete garbage, whereas I'm thinking there's still some good use left in something. When people give us hand-me-downs (like school workbooks that are 2/3 used already) I feel obliged to make use of them. When you simply cannot take the risk that you might have to buy a replacement for something 2-3 years down the road, it's very hard to let go of Stuff.

A friend was home on leave from Afghanistan. His mom told how the family attended a wedding, and her son was just kinda shocked by the amount that was spent on the wedding and reception. He knew what it could've done for the kids and the families where he was stationed over there. And to some extent I agree. Yet I think it's perfectly reasonable that people enjoy the blessings God provides. In our family we have some indulgences (DSL for the computer, and rental DVDs) that aren't necessary but that we enjoy.

It's one thing to be frugal when you have no choice. What I'm seeing in myself (and what kind of worries me) is that I'm not going to be able to let go of this. If I should someday have a decent income, I don't think it will be possible for me to spend it on clothes or interior decorating or high-quality appliances. When a whole generation of people had this depression-era mentality, people understood each other's hang-up. But for somebody my age to think like this, that just makes me a complete misfit.

Youth Group Poll

I assume most homeschooling families would respond in the same way I would. But I'm not sure about non-homeschooling families.

Would you send your kids to a youth group where the leader attends church several times a year and where the pastor would not be allowed to be involved?

His Memory

Once upon a time we were at a bed-n-breakfast, and Dr Scaer was there too. At breakfast, he was politely making conversation and asked about our homeschooling. Somehow I got on a roll and ended up talking about how great it is that kids can educate themselves and might not even need college. Suddenly I gasped, realizing I was denigrating the necessity of college to a man who has spent most of his life as a professor. Oooops!

A few years later we were attending the symposium on the Lutheran Confessions at Fort Wayne. Being a TLH family, we had to blunder our way through unfamiliar prayer services in chapel for the first part of the week. But on the final day of the symposium, prayers were
matins from TLH,
Psalm 98 chanted from the back of the hymnal,
and hymn 132 "O God of God, O Light of Light."

Now, it so happens that we have memorized all those things. And it so happens that Dr Scaer came and sat down next to us in chapel that day. With my 16-yr-old son between me and the good doctor, we said/sang our prayers without crackin' the book.

After chapel, Dr Scaer suggested that the reason "you homeschoolers" have kids who've memorized so much of the hymnal is because we've failed to teach them to read. He suggested that it might be easier to teach them to read before they're 20 than to teach them to memorize the whole hymnal and psalter.

zinnnnnnng!

High School Musical

A week and a half ago, Disney's High School Musical arrived at our house as part of our Blockbuster subscription. It's been watched over a dozen times -- probably closer to 20 times. Some of the song-and-dance scenes have been played repeatedly throughout the day.

I'm not sure why we became so crazy over this movie. But we have! It's light. It's fun. It's catchy. And we just keep playing it over and over. It's not exactly like it needs your full attention when it's on. So it plays in the background, and we dance around the kitchen while sauteeing veggies and singing the songs, and other such nonsense.

We really like Chad (the hero's best friend) because he looks so much like Patchy ... except for the hair. Jane has a picture of him: Patrick is the one in the brown shirt.

The movie made me wonder why we do surgery on VCFS kids who have velo-pharyngeal insufficiency (in other words, they talk really really nasally). Three of the four lead singers in the movie do that baby-talky nasal singing. It's pretty obnoxious. But we still love the show and the songs! Maybe if VCFS kids didn't have their cleft palates fixed, they too could grow up to be famous singers!

I hope my kids don't think that high school is really like they show in the movie. Those kids are never in class. They walk around the school freely, without passes from the teachers. They come and go. They socialize all day long.

With what we hear about overcrowded high schools, and how the school has to run some classes in closets and hallways, it was a crack-up to see empty rooms available for kids to hang out in.

We are dying to try making creme brulee! "It's really satisfying," says Zeke. But I keep forgetting to skim the cream off my milk. Maybe I'll just have to buy some cream. We've web-browsed for recipes. I think we're going to have to put the dessert under the broiler, so that means we'll need a metal pan. We think we're coming up with a way to fake our way through the lack of equipment for this recipe.

The main thing I noticed about this movie was how different it was from Grease. So many people told me that it was like Grease. There was one main thing I hated about Grease, though. The message was to change yourself so that the guy (or girl) would like you. In Grease, the wholesome girl became sleazy to attract the guy she liked. It seemed to me that, at the end of the movie, I always got the message to "sell out who you are so you will find friends." And that's the exact opposite of the message of High School Musical. Personally, I think high school IS (and will remain) the place where everybody is supposed to stay in their own groups, their own cliques, and stick to their "own stuff" (not playing a cello or doing hip-hop dancing, unless that is what Your Group does). Nevertheless, the movie's message is that we should accept diversity and work together, as shown by one athlete who bakes, another athlete who sings, a skateboarder who plays cello, and one of the geeky smart girls who sings too.

And Rachel, I'm not sure whether you should get this for Dad for Christmas. I'm not sure he can send it back to Blockbuster without buying a copy for himself right away. Of course, he did say yesterday that he thinks he's had his fill and could consider returning it now for the next movie on the list.

House Blessing

There were two house blessings on Thursday. Pastor forgot to make handouts for us to follow along. So theoretically we weren't supposed to be speaking the psalm. But when he said, "I lift up my eyes to the hills," we forgot that we weren't praying the psalm responsively. But the second half of the verse came out in a variety of Bible translations. That was a shame, because it seemed like most of us had memorized Psalm 121.

Same thing happened with the hymn. We knew "O Blest the House." But in the Pastoral Care Companion it was the LSB version instead of the TLH version. About a month ago, that hymn was the hymn-of-the-week (to go with the catechism portion for the Fourth Commandment). So for the hymn too, Pastor had to cut it off early (only two stanzas) because we no longer all know the same words and can no longer sing our hymns together without our noses in the book.

I find this very sad.

Buzzwords

"We have personally selected a small group of alumni to participate in the 'listening process'" for an "initiative" whereby "the Board of Regents will be seeking greater alumni involvement," because we "are committed to reconnecting and re-engaging with our beloved and important alumni." The Board "recently began articulating a long-term strategic vision for further stability and growth." This was in a letter that I received last week. Do I believe that I have been personally selected as part of a small group of alumni? How about you other grads of my college? Were you too personally selected as part of this elite group?

One of the men at church is head of the board of stewards. He is excited about three "new initiatives."

Whenever I see a church with a "mission statement," I become suspicious.

I like big words. I do! I have a hard time with sign language because the vocabulary is smaller than English, and I like finding just the right word, a more precise word than some generalized word. But buzzwords drive me bonkers! Why can't they just speak English? Plain simple English? Would it be too demeaning to say, "We have a new plan"? What is "strategic vision" anyway? And why do I always think that someone who talks that way is trying to schnooker impress me?

TLH 144

Much of "Jesus, Grant That Balm and Healing" is about avoiding temptation or overcoming temptation by meditation upon His cross and suffering and the love that motivated Him to rescue us. But recently I was struck by the second stanza.

Should some lust or sharp temptation
Prove too strong for flesh and blood,
Let me think upon Thy Passion,
And the breach is soon made good.

I always thought that meant that we could think about what Jesus has done for us and avoid falling into sin. And it is true that other spots in the song allude to such things. (At least, in English that's how it comes out.)

But I think this part of the hymn isn't talking about avoiding it. Like it says, the temptation proved "too strong." So even then, even when we succumb to the temptation, the solution is still to "think upon Thy Passion." The breach between what God demands and what we actually perform, that breach is made good by hearing the forgiveness of sins.

Cost Cutting

There are some money problems at church. A survey was sent out (I'm not sure by whom) to the members of the congregation, asking for suggestions. One helpful soul submitted a list of cost-cutting measures. One was to turn the lights off at church. (During the services? They're already off the rest of the time.) Another was to lower the thermostat at the parsonage during winter. (Depending on the amount of wind, daytime temps fluctuate from 62-65 degrees, and it runs 48-56 during the night.)

But there was one that is beyond my understanding. We could save money on wine* if we had communion only twice a month.

* Footnote: Doing so would save 15L per year.

Tagged (Sevens)

The tag-game running around [ha ha!] the blogs these days is to tell seven true things about yourself. Laura and Melynda and an amusing one tagged me. And now I
1) have to think of seven things, (ooooh, the brain strain!) and
2) come up with taggees. It seems like most of the homeschoolers have been tagged, so I'm going try tagging Kirken and Emily and Erin, and the youngsters: Liz, Anthea, Katie, Rachel, Cassie. (Shhhh. 3+5=7. Shhhhh. Yes, it does. This is a tag meme about sevens. I can do the New Math if I wanna!!!)


The rules of this are:
1. Link the person who has tagged you.
2. Tell seven true things about yourself.
3. Tag seven new people.
4. Leave a message with the person you have tagged so they know about it.


1) I cannot remember the color of my toothbrush. Old age and fading memory make it hard enough to figure out which toothbrush is mine. Buuut having to keep track of TWO toothbrushes, annnd having their colors change every six months (luck of the draw in what the dental hygienist hands me in my goodie-bag), that's just too much. So I have a pony-tail band wrapped around the handle of one toothbrush to distinguish. On the other, I've marked my initial with a black Sharpie, but I have to re-ink the initial every few weeks.

2) I have friends (couples and widows) and family members who are DOWNsizing to retirement condos larger than the house I live in with five other people. And I didn't even think our house was that small.

3) The first time I got called "ma'am" was in 7th or 8th grade. Because I was so tall, the saleslady knew that no kid could be possibly that height, so I was called "ma'am" instead of "miss" or "hey, kid." I suppose "freaky tall-person" may have worked just as well.

4) I don't recall ever hanging pictures of boys in my bedroom as a teen. If that memory is correct (which is definitely not a sure thing -- see item #1), then my first "pin-up boy" was a picture of David Scaer from a CTS calendar about 4-5 years ago. I liked that lively picture so much that I didn't change the month on the calendar for the rest of the year, and I lobbied to get that particular classroom-photo used in one of his books. (I doubt my begging worked, though.)

5. I used to be a gymnast. It is hard for a very very tall person (see item #3) to fit the required number of backflips into a pass on the diagonal of the floor-exercise mat, without falling off the edge of the mat and crashing into the spectators' seats. And you had to screw and screw and screw the knobs forEVER to adjust the parallel bars to be big enough (far apart enough and high enough) for me to circle the bar without smashing my head into the other bar or the floor.

6. I'm more used to white noise than I thought. I had to sleep at a friend's house the other night. They have bedrooms upstairs. The noise of the quietness throbbed loudly. No refrigerator motor cycling. No noise of dehumidifiers running in the basement. No cats thumping through the house. No traffic passing. No computer fans. Even the sound of constant wind was missing.

7. I don't know how to relax and play any more. Except by watching tv. I only know how to work feverishly. This is not a good thing.

Brain

If somebody ran a marathon on Saturday, it'd be goofy to try to go cut and haul firewood the next day. If somebody had been sick and feverish for a few days, nobody would expect them to pop up and dive into housework. Then why am I foolish enough to tax my brain to the uttermost, wear myself out, and expect myself to be able to think today? I keep thinking that brains are different from muscles, though. Maybe... no reasonably intelligent brain would expect an exhausted brain to be able to teach physics, or even figure out what to make for dinner. Ah, but maybe I've pinpointed the problem -- an exhausted brain may be incapable of analyzing the self-exhaustedness of itself?

I'm gonna go make pizza.
I bet I'll have a hard time figuring out how high I should set the temp on the oven.

Philip's Car

I was awakened this morning at 6:30 by the phone ringing. Philip was stranded and needed rescue.

When he was car-hunting, it seemed to me like he didn't have enough money to buy an okay car. When Gary and I were younger, drivable used cars could be had for $700-1500. It's not like that anymore. Well, he found a car that looked pretty decent for $2500. My thought was that, given the good shape of the body and the dependability of Toyotas, he was probably getting a good deal... well, as good a deal as one can expect if you're not going to spend $7000 on a used car. He spent money on new tires and new brakes, and was good to go.

For a month.
Then he needed a new engine.
Still... even with the new engine, we know that he's spent less than he might've, has a car with a "new" engine (only 80,000 miles on it), has lower insurance premiums because it's an older vehicle. The only thing we worried about was if there should be a drunk driver or other problem, and having the car totaled-out at a value which the insurance company would've priced too low. However, even that has an up-side. The car dealership said that our receipts showing a new engine and new tires could be used to prove a higher-than-Blue-Book value to the car, should there be an accident.

One week after getting the car back, one week after no longer shuffling cars between us to get everybody to work at the right time, and there was an unavoidable road hazard on his way to work. Ripped the exhaust system and catalytic converter from the undercarriage. So today we got to learn about tow-trucks and calling the police and stuff like that. There were really other things I would've preferred to do than learn those lessons.

Musing on John 13:2-3

And supper being ended, the devil having already put it into the heart of Judas Iscariot, Simon's son, to betray Him, Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into His hands, and that He had come from God and was going to God, rose from supper and laid aside His garments, took a towel and girded Himself.

It's probably stupid to even attempt a blog-post. I've attempted to do 150 pages of editing theology in the last 24 hours (on only 4 hours sleep), so my brain is fried big-time. And here I am, musing....

Bible class this morning was on John 13. Pastor was talking about the Father having given all things into Jesus' hands. He talked about how Adam was given dominion over all things. But Adam used his authority and his dominion to take for himself what God had not given. Jesus, on the other hand, had all things from the Father, and did not use them for Himself. What motivated Him to die was "His great love for the Father and for me and other sinners."

Pastor was saying great stuff, but on little sleep and with brain-fry I wasn't picking it up very well. Besides, I was distracted. He keeps telling us that things in the Bible (true and historic though they be) are not there merely for historical information. So why is that business about Judas there, anyhow??

So when Pastor started talking about "all things," it made me wonder. The first Adam betrayed "all things" God had put into his hand and under his dominion. Throughout all of history, man continued to squander the good gifts of God. Here is Judas, betraying not only the almighty God [think on that for a moment, the almighty God being sold, but that's an aside], but betraying His love. And here is the true Man, the "Adam" who poured out Himself, even though He had "all things" temporal, as well as "all things" including communion with the Father. His version of power and authority is sacrificing Himself to be able to give us (part of "all things") back to the Father.

Thinking Like a Scanner

With the editing I'm doing right now, most of the articles have been previously published. So there's not as much stress on the brain to sort through commas and dangling modifiers and subordinate clauses. However, there are some amusing spots. Because some of the articles have been scanned into the computer, the computer didn't always translate the "picture" of the words on the page into the correct electronic bits.

There are easy mistakes. "Not" for "nor." "Or" in the place of "of." "Tlie" instead of "the." A couple of places it said "all then are" instead of "all men are."

But there was "come to teens with" which should've been "come to terms with."

"We are entitled to Hip blessings" instead of "His blessings."

So sometimes I have to think about how a scanner might "see" the letters in a word, particularly if there might be a stray spot on the paper, or a place where the ink wasn't fully laid down on the original page. The one that confused me was "one-tittle justification." I didn't know what "one-tittle justification" was. I figured I was just dumb, and it was some theological phrase I was unaware of. But then Pastor asked me what "one-tittle justification was." Hey! Not fair! He's supposed to know these theological terms! Huh? Maybe it's not a theological phrase? Hmmmm. Now what? Thinking like a scanner, though, I finally figured out it was "one-time justification." Suddenly, the whole sentence made sense. And I'm still laughin' over that one! (Although "Hip" blessings from God is worth a giggle too!)