Symphony This Sunday

Our church choirs have a reputation.

(That's kind of cool....)

This Sunday we're singing at the concert for the local symphony. 

At work the other day, I heard a commercial for us.  On a 50,000-watt radio station.  On one of their most-listened-to talk-shows.  A commercial for us.  I was excited!  Oh my goodness -- you can buy tickets for the concert on Ticketmaster.  To me, that's where you get tickets for Toby Keith or Kenny Chesney or Michael Buble.  One of my co-workers said, "I have NEVER seen you nearly so pumped about ANYthing."  No foolin'!

This is going to be fun.



If you're local and want to attend, it's 3:00 on Sunday at Hamilton Fine Arts Center (at the high school).  Information is available at the symphony's website.  The children's choirs are singing a couple of songs without the adults, and I don't know what those pieces are.  The adults (or adults with the kids) are singing:
Once in Royal David's City (Mann/Willcocks/Vierrege)
Up, Good Christen Folk
Praise God the Lord, Ye Sons of Men (Hugo Distler)
Jesus Christ, the Apple Tree
Your Little Ones, Dear Lord, Are We  (David Cherwien) 
Silent Night (Hal Hopson)
See, in Yonder Manger Low (Keith Veirrege)

Penance

"The Mission."
A movie with amazing music and cinematography and casting.
Docudrama set in the 1750s in South America: Jesuit missionaries going to the native peoples, and what happened when the Treaty of Madrid rearranged European "ownership" of the South American lands.

The movie has a bunch of different aspects:

Enslavement of the Guarani people even when slavery was officially illegal.

Corrupt leadership, in both political government and church government.

The shock to authorities when they find native people (so unlike themselves) trusting in the same Lord, worshiping Him with the same liturgy, and receiving the same sacraments.

The place of priests in fighting injustice: fighting militarily or not.

Persecution of the Church.

Self-defense and "just war."

The affect of the Gospel.



Whoa, that last one!  (Okay.  Warning.  Spoilers ahead.)

In the story, a slave trader ends up killing his brother in a duel.  He is devastated.  There is no hope for him.  The person who finally gets through to him partially is the priest who is ministering to the Indians who had been this slave trader's prey.  Of course, being Roman Catholics, there had to be penance.  They came up with a task, and the slave trader kept at it.  No matter how long he doggedly worked at his penance, he wasn't finding peace.  There was no relief. 

There was no comfort for him until he arrived at the home of those Indians he had hunted ... and they forgave him.  They did not take vengeance on him.  They physically removed the burden he'd been lugging along as penance.  And they accepted him into their midst. 

Penance did not save him.
Penance did not help make up for his evils.
Penance showed him that he could not atone for what he'd done.
It was mercy and forgiveness that freed him.
That mercy, in conjunction with God's word, was what changed the slave trader into a priest.




The Mission is one of those movies that is both sickening and beautiful.  The violence & gore, the bigotry, the evils -- it's enough to turn your stomach.  And yet, there's the beauty of defending the innocent, and the glory of seeing hearts and lives changed by the Gospel.

"Bless You!"

AaaaaCHOO.
Gesundheit.  That is, "good health."

One lovely day when I was sitting at the feet of John Kleinig, the good doctor mentioned that people chafe if we preach to them.  People don't want us to speak the Gospel to them.  They really don't want to hear the Law.  Some won't mind too much if you say that you pray for them.

But he said nobody gets upset if you bless them.

You know what?

I think he's right.

AaaaaCHOO.
God bless you.

And then, when you say out loud

"God bless you,"

in your heart you can also

beg the Lord to bless this person.

 

Curves

We have been at the Curves gym two-and-a-half months now.  It takes time.  We progressed past the point of not wanting to bother going.  (C'mon, really?  Audible verbal arguments with myself?  "I don't WANT to go today."  "You need to."  "No, I don't.  What difference does one day make?"  "For exercise, probably not much.  But making a habit?  Skipping just one day makes a huge difference in your mental commitment."  "Commitment schmamittment.  Bah humbug."  "Fetch your gym shoes and get moving, you lazy bum.")

Maggie finds Curves to be more fun than going for walks or using the Goodwill-purchased exercise equipment in our basement.  We were doggedly pushing each other to build this into a habit, a routine, a natural part of life.  And it was working ... until we skipped a week due to illness and another half-week due to holiday closures.  Now it's time to rebuild that habit.

Some critics say Curves is for old women.  Or for people out of shape.  Yeah?  So what's the problem?  I'm old.  And Maggie is out of shape.  We're doing something.

Maggie lost 3 pounds in the first three weeks.  Unfortunately, she gained back most of them with Halloween chocolate.  But she gained back "most."  Not all! And this morning we did our first weigh-and-measure since we joined, and she's down nearly 8#.  That's excellent news!

The Difference Between East and West

In 1951 Herman Sasse wrote to pastors about the place of the cross in the Eastern Church and the Ancient Church. 

As soon as the great question is put: Cur Deus homo? [Why did God become man?] it is understood [in the Eastern church] as a question for the rationale of the incarnation rather than of the death of Christ.

Sure enough, an EO writer says --
The Incarnation did not take place for the Crucifixion; the Crucifixion took place so the Incarnation and the eternal communion of God and man could be fulfilled despite Satan, sin, and death. Explaining that there was no necessity in God the Father that required the death of His Son, St. Gregory is telling us that, from before the ages, it was the divine will for mankind to be sanctified and made immortal by communion with the humanity of the Incarnate God, but corruptibility and death came and stood in the way. 





Sasse continues:

Thus for the Ancient Church, as even today for the Eastern Church, the cross is hidden in the miracle of Christmas and in the miracle of Easter.

How is that limitation of Ancient Christianity and its theology to be explained? Certainly it must not be forgotten that the divine revelation given in Holy Scriptures is so rich that whole centuries are necessary to understand its content fully. It cannot be expected that the Church of the First Ecumenical Councils should already have solved the problems of the medieval Western World.

As to the meaning of redemption, the Greek Fathers could not get away from the idealistic conception of man.

The lack of full understanding of the greatness of sin is the reason why the Ancient Church and the Church of the East never reached a theologia crucis.

So if you wonder what's the difference between Lutherans and the Eastern church, this is it.  In EO, sin is not quite as bad, not quite as deep, not quite as corrupting, as what the Bible teaches. 

"The Law shows us our sin
and how much we need a Savior."

Not so much sin?
Then you don't need so much of a Savior, do you?
And some of the glory goes to you instead of all the glory being His.

Andrew's Schooling

He's still waiting to hear the verdict as to whether he was accepted to the RN program at our local tech school.  Fantastic program with shockingly low tuition.  (Hey, shockingly high property taxes ... and thus the thing about "every dark cloud has a silver lining.")  I thought Andrew was a shoo-in.  Great entrance-test scores and perfect GPA. 

But then he told me that those factors cannot be considered in the decision-making process for who's admitted to the program.

Really?  I'm dumbfounded.  What DO they use as criteria to make the decision then?  Or maybe they don't make decisions, but just draw names out of a hat?

Well, he's got a good job as a CNA. 
And hopefully, in another week or two, we'll hear good news that invites him to sign up for classes for spring semester.

(Wow.  You can't use performance in pre-nursing classes to determine who's admitted to the nursing program.  Just wow.)

Thanksgiving Plans

As much as I hate to say it, I'm glad Paul and Mandy aren't coming for the holiday.  They're going to visit her mom's family. 

And I just keep wanting naps.  Those germies from last week haven't entirely dispersed yet.

Maggie made bread yesterday.  Andrew made cheesecake; Rachel is making pies.  Katie said she'd be in charge of sweet potatoes and mashed potatoes.  I'm going to cook the turkey and slice it on Wednesday.  If I can muster the strength, I'll mix together a cranberry salad and a broccoli salad.

So if I'm full of snot and crashed on the couch on Thursday, they all can still eat something and enjoy each other's company.  Thanks be to God.

(You know what?  Having a paid-job really interferes with a person's ability to rest and recuperate from illness.)

"Blessed Are the Barren"

Luke 23: The days are coming in which they will say, "Blessed are the barren, wombs which never bore, and breasts which never nursed." 

I had always thought that was, well, you know, something the Bible said.  But it's not.  It's just something Jesus reports that "they" say.  Duh -- how come I never saw it until Pastor pointed it out today?  That's something the unbelievers say.  Not Christians.  And certainly not something God says. 

"Better to not have babies" is the response of the hopeless and the despairing.

Happy Things

The same edition of the Bible. 

People were laughing at me during Bible class this week.  I had a question, but I needed to refer to another passage -- a passage whose location I could not pin down.  Poor Pastor -- how can he answer a question comparing passages when I can't even tell him what they are?  "I can't find it.  I don't have the right Bible."  (That's why they poked fun at me.)

Is it my brain being weird?  Or do other people do this too?  I can find things easier in the Bible that I use frequently.  I might know that a verse in the psalms is about 1/3 of the way down the left-hand page, in the right column.  Or I might know that it's a verse in the 30's of one of the major prophets, and it's in the bottom right corner of the page. 

Hey, that makes it loads easier to find a passage I'm hunting!

The right Bible. 
The words are no different.
But because of its layout,
its fit with my brain is different.
And that makes me happy.

Godliness

"The mystery of lawlessness" was in the reading recently from 2 Thessalonians 2. 

It seemed an odd phrase.

So how does it compare with "the mystery of godliness" (1 Timothy 3)? 

Wait a cotton-pickin' minute.
Godliness?
Paul says the mystery of GODLINESS is what Jesus did? 

We tend to think godliness is what I think and what I say and what I do and how I feel.  And Paul has this notion that godliness is Jesus' incarnation, suffering, death, resurrection, ascension, and that these events in the Creed are preached.

Happy Things

Wooden knitting needles.

The sound and feel is just luscious in comparison to metal ones.

Happy!

Hold the Traditions

After Paul talks about the falling away of many in the church, he says, "God from the beginning chose you for salvation through sanctification by the Spirit and belief in the truth, to which He called you by our gospel, for the obtaining of the glory of our Lord Jesus Christ.  Therefore, brethren, stand fast and hold the traditions which you were taught, whether by word or our epistle" (2 Thessalonian 2).

Through the Church, the Holy Spirit gave the catechism.  And the divine service with the liturgy.  And solid, Christ-centered hymns preaching the forgiveness of sins.  And the sacraments.  And ministers to speak on behalf of Jesus to us.

Do we fiercely hang onto it, as if our lives depended on it?  (For of course, they do.)  Or do we hold cheap the traditions we were taught?



When the Israelites were leaving Egypt, Moses said, "Stand still and see the salvation which the Lord shall accomplish for you this day....  The Lord will fight for you, and you shall hold your peace."

Happy Things

Good brakes.

I did NOT hit the deer tonight.  And the guy behind me reacted quickly enough that he didn't hit me.

I'm sure I left some doozy black tire-marks on the road, though.

A safe car.  With good brakes.  And an honest mechanic I trust. 

It makes me happy that I can rely on Chuck!



And on the subject of deer:
I need to use my brights more often.
And tell the kids to use theirs.
And at this time of year I need to follow people further back than usual.

Happy Things

This is the weirdest picture, ...
but how do you show a picture of somebody not using a hymnal??

It makes me happy to see people singing in church without needing a hymnal. 

My brother-in-law during the processional at his wedding.

The acolytes while they're extinguishing candles.


The elders who are carrying the pall to the coffin during the opening hymn of a funeral.

The 4-year-old who can't read yet.

The 20-something young lady from Indiana who transferred to our church, and several people asked me when they saw her singing on the way back from the communion rail, "Where did she learn all those hymns?"


I suspect the saints and angels in heaven do not use hymnbooks.  The books are necessary on earth.  But it's sweet when the words are so deep within us that we can freely sing from the heart.

Happy Things

A letter.

A real letter!

A few days before Jane started her blogging of HappyThings, Elva wrote me a letter.  I can't even describe how delightful it was to find a letter in the mail!

And yesterday, I came home from work to find a letter from my goddaughter.  Joy, oh joy!

(Idea:  I could write more letters, and pass along the joy!  Wouldn't that be fun?)

Happy Things

How can a simple fried egg be SO good?!

Egg.  From a happy chicken.  Cooked in a cast-iron skillet.  With a touch of sea salt and black pepper. 

Mmmm.  Hot, runny-yolked egg!

Happiness

Thesis: No one can be happy and contented in his life's work unless he is doing it to serve someone else (and not himself).



No matter how much we chase after making ourselves happy, we can never have enough.  It is only in sacrificing and giving that true happiness comes.  That's part of what it is to be made in the image of God.  And it's true whether you're a Christian or an atheist or a follower of some other religion.  It is simply a fact of life, like gravity.

Your Neighbor

"Your neighbor is the man who needs you."

Wow.
That's a quote from Elbert Green Hubbard, a man who differed from me philosophically and religiously on a gazillion things.

And yet, that quote fits beautifully with the Christian perspective of sacrifice for one's neighbor.  It's very much like what Jesus said to the lawyer when He told the parable of the good Samaritan.

When the whole society was familiar with the Bible and steeped in decency  -- even apart from Christ, there was a civil understanding of what is true and moral.

Babies Are Nice

Conversation recently among a group of [unchurched] 20-somethings:
"I don't think I'd ever want a family.  It would be fun to come home once a week and make dinner and spend time with my family.  But every day?!"
"Maybe it would be okay to have kids.  If they'd arrive at age 4 or 5, already ready for school, and able to feed themselves and dress themselves and use the toilet."
"Babies look like little aliens."

A few days later, Bible class was on the topic of marriage, and how the world views marriage, and society's changing definitions of marriage, and how the Church has pretty much taken-for-granted the joys and the normalness of married life and faithfulness, instead of extolling it. 

Some of the ideas "out there" about marriage, relationships, children, are so so unbiblical (and new-fangled) that it boggles my mind.  I don't even know how to begin addressing the complete mess of someone's life when they value self-indulgence, pride themselves in hanging onto grudges, and have no experience with the simple joys and stability that come with plain old everyday family life.  They know they're unhappy.  But the idea of living a life of sacrifice for others?  Not on the radar.

So I asked during Bible class.  "How do we respond?  How do we talk to people about these things when we're not even speaking the same language, when we're coming from vastly different perspectives?"

And Pastor said, "Just live your life.  Just be who you are as a wife and mother."

What?!

That's all?

But the more I think about it,
the more I hear conversations out there in the big wide world,
the more I realize that "just being who I am" IS pretty different.

His Exodus

Isn't it cool? 

In Luke's version of the Transfiguration (chapter 9), Jesus is talking with Moses and Elijah about "His decease" -- literally His "exodus."  His way out or path out.   

And what's the story immediately before this one?  Jesus is talking about taking up the cross to follow Him.

Follow Him. 
The way out.

Abraham's Name-Change

I knew God changed Abram's name to Abraham.

I knew God instituted the sacrament of circumcision for His people.  (In the new testament, baptism corresponds to this -- the way sinners are brought into God's people and marked as His own.)

But it never crossed my mind until this week that those two things happened at the same time.  Little boys got their names at the time of their circumcision (Luke 2:21).  Today, in the baptism rite, children are named.  But looking at Genesis 17, even Abraham received his name at his circumcision ... old age notwithstanding. 

I think that's kind of cool.

Luke 14

It takes so much energy to tend to an illness or a wound.  When I burned my arm recently, it took longer to get dressed in the morning because I had to deal with bandages and wound care.  My mom gets frustrated with the time it takes to sort her medicines and tend to her dialysis and keep up with simple day-to-day care when her body doesn't instantaneously do what her brain tells her body to do.

So when we read in Luke 14 that Jesus healed the man with dropsy, it's lovely to see that He "let him go" or set him free.  The man finally had rest [sabbath] from his wearying illness. 

And when an illness has weighed you down, it seems an even lovelier prospect to have that rest, that freedom.




Also, that bit about where people sit at the dinner table when they've been invited to a party?  This is not a Miss Manners section of the Bible.  True, it's nice to be nice.  But what's more important here is that Jesus, being found in appearance as a man, humbled himself to death, even the death of the cross (Philippians 2).  And then He was "invited up higher" where He would have glory.

Mercy Seat

... Christ Jesus, whom God set forth as a propitiation by His blood ...  (Romans 3)

So, that "propitiation" is another word for "mercy seat."

In the Holy of Holies, behind the veil in the tabernacle and the temple, the ark of the covenant was covered by the mercy seat.  The place of the Lord's presence.  The place where He particularly was with His people to forgive.  Tucked away.  Nobody went there.  Except the high priest once a year.  With blood and with cleansing.

And now, in the fulness of time, God set forth the propitiation.  Not tucked away.  Right out there where the whole world can see.

The Parable of the Lost Coin

Luke 15: a lost sheep, a lost coin, a lost son.

Did you ever wonder why the middle story is about a woman who lost something?  (Well, besides the obvious: women can get frantic looking for a precious item that was lost.)

Well, the story of the lost sheep shows us how Jesus goes to extreme lengths to bring back the one that was lost.  The story of the lost coin shows us the same thing.  Except the main character is a woman -- a wife -- a bride. 

Doesn't that show us how the Church (Jesus' bride) is like Him?  She too goes all-out to find what was lost.  And she rejoices when the lost one is found.

(When Pastor said this recently,

it made so much sense!)

Why Didn't Anybody TELL Us?

On NPR today, the reporter was interviewing someone who does fact-checking.  The topic?  Obamacare.  The distress?  People's health plans are being canceled.  They're losing their health insurance.  But the President said that wouldn't happen!  "If you like your plan, you can keep your plan."  That's what he promised us. 

The reporter has discovered this week that the President's promise isn't coming true.  Not only that, but the reporter discovered that the sad fallout was included in the bill all along: about half the people who buy their own health insurance (as opposed to plans through their employer) would be losing their coverage.  The reporter wanted to know: "Why didn't we know this before?  Shouldn't someone have discovered this earlier?  Why did we have to wait five years, until it was time to actually sign up in The Marketplace, before we learned what would happen?  Why didn't anyone figure this out and tell us?"

No one told you, Mr Reporter?

I seem to recall a lot of people saying exactly what you did not know.

Congressmen.
Senators.
Talk-show hosts and their callers.
Governors.
Gobs of citizens who called or wrote to Washington.
Political leaders.
Lobbyists.

Regardless of where people stand on the pros/cons of socialized medicine, this reporter's reaction demonstrates something about dialogue.

There has been no dialogue. 
It's all been a monologue.

For years people have been saying, "This is what will happen."  And the Left did not hear.  They could not hear.  They refused to hear.  Their ideology deafened them. 

And now they're surprised.

Why?




PS:  Here's a thought.  Maybe those people who disagree with the administration's proposals aren't as clueless as y'all thought.  Those fuddy-duddy conservatives had the facts right about socialized medicine.  Any chance they might have the facts right on, oh, say, climate change?  Or what constitutes a marriage?  Or some of that other stuff they keep harping on?

Happy Things

Pictures taken by our friend Rachel.  (By the way, if anybody around here needs high school graduation pictures, Rachel is superb!)

Happy Things

Our reverse-osmosis filter had not been working.  For eight weeks, I was buying jugs of water every time I had reason to be in town.  The counter was constantly cluttered with water jugs, hogging space.



  See this guy?  He's smart figurer-outer.  Yup!

See this knobby thing that's part of our plumbing?  It's where the reverse-osmosis pipe exits the water pipes.  Something in there was plugged up.




Gary and I undid it.  We flushed the opening.  (In other words, we gave ourselves an unsolicited shower as water spurted out.)  We put it all back together.  It only took two or three tries before we made it work without leaking.

And now we have nice drinking water from the tap again.  Without repeatedly running into the grocery store to refill jugs!

Now, that's happy!

Happy Things

Turning into this driveway.

Sometimes after work, I head to church instead of heading home.  Maybe there's class.  Maybe there's choir practice.  Maybe some other activity.   It never feels like I've got One More Thing To Do before I go home. 

Turning into that driveway IS "going home." 

O Lord, I love habitation of Your house,
and the place where Your glory dwells. (Psalm 26)

Happy.

Infant Communion

While doing kitchen work today, I was listening to Issues Etc on the topic of infant communion.  The guest said some good stuff.  But one big thing confused me.

Much of his argument [against infant communion] was based on the fact that Jesus instituted baptism in a different way than He instituted the Lord's Supper.  He said that one was directed to the recipients and one was directed to the ministers.  He said that Jesus did not institute baptism by baptizing people, but by telling the ministers what to do, what to say, and why.  He said that Jesus instituted the Lord's Supper by speaking directly to the recipients (through their mental faculties).

But ...

Jesus was baptizing people.  Jesus and His apostles baptized more than John and his disciples (John 3 and 4:1-2). 

First, Jesus baptized.  And He catechized on baptism (to Nicodemus, for example).  Then later, Matthew shows us the specifics of how He told His apostles to administer baptism.  On Maundy Thursday, Jesus communed His disciples.  Then later, we see what Paul wrote about specific instructions regarding how to administer the Lord's Supper that Jesus had instituted earlier. 

Why are those different from each other?

Trick-or-Treat

How do you know if you're too old?

If you're old enough to buy your own candy (that is, if you could be babysitting, shoveling snow, mowing lawns, delivering papers, etc) then you don't need to be out trick-or-treating.

Can you go with your friends -- and no adult along to keep watch?  That's okay for a couple of years, but it also signals that pretty soon you should be handing out candy instead of asking for candy.

I know most of the rest of American society disagrees with me.  But me?  I think the cute little beggars should be accompanied by parents. 

Happy Things

Reading to children.

Picture books. Chapter books. Old books.  Sometimes new books too.

There's something marvelous about reading aloud and enjoying a book together -- something far different from reading a story to yourself.

Hmmm. I should have a picture of me and Maggie reading together too.

Boy, if there were a way to earn a living reading books aloud to kids, I'd be all over it!

Happy.

Happy Things

My mother-in-law's measuring cups.

Reason #1: For 30+ years, I only had one set.  Boy, it's nice to have a spare so that cups don't have to be washed and dried and washed and dried repeatedly.

Reason #2:  They were the ones Gary had, growing up.

Sometimes Pastor uses the analogy of treasuring things that belonged to our forefathers, such as eating holiday dinners off Grandma's china.  He talks about how that can show we loved and honored the person who gave these things to us.  I always feel guilty when he says that ... and miss the point of the analogy while my mind is wandering.  We (like so many others in America) are overloaded with stuff.  And sometimes, material goods (no matter how pretty, no matter how many wonderful memories, no matter how old) can become a burden.  If the treasures don't fit into my house and my life, I cannot treasure them.  And that makes me feel terribly unappreciative.

So, anyway, it's funny to me how much these measuring cups make me happy.  I love their shape.  I love their feel.  I love how nicely they scoop.  I love their history.

Happy.

Pat the Chicken

I keep running across these recipes that say, "Pat the chicken dry with paper towels," and then the instructions go on to tell about spices or frying or whatever.  I never quite saw the necessity of that.  I often soak my chicken parts in water for hours before cooking, so yes, then I will [usually] pat it dry.  But not always.

Last week, in a rush for lunch, I bought chicken tenderloins -- little strips of skinless, boneless breast meat.  Mushrooms were on sale at Aldi super-cheap, and I had my heart set on some delectable Chicken Marsala.  I dredged the chicken strips in seasoned flour.  When I set them into the thin layer of hot oil, ... uh ... the oil ... uh ... exploded.  Most of the burns are decently healing over, but my left wrist is still a mess of raw skin.

My guess is that the moisture in the chicken was the problem.  From now on, I'll pat the chicken dry! That's lesson #1.

Lesson #2?  I must remember that a burn should be patted dry before the aloe application.  I pulled my arm out from under the cold faucet and started rubbing on aloe.  But it was diluted by the water all over my arm, and thus not as effective as usual.


By the way, that Chicken Marsala was amaAAAzing.

Happy Things

Pretty dishes.

Not only are they cheery, but they drip-dry super-fast in the dish-drainer.  I can let them air-dry and put them away 30-60 minutes later.

And they're relatively light-weight and easy to carry and lift into the cupboard.

Happy!

With the Critters Too

After the Flood, God promised that He would never again destroy the earth with water (Genesis 9).  Interestingly, the promise was not made merely to Noah, or to Noah's family, or to all people forever.  The promise was made to every living creature. 

Did the animals understand this?  Did their brains intellectually comprehend this?  Of course not.  But the promise is valid nonetheless.

This is comforting to know.  Sometimes I think of how little I understand of God's Word.  But His promises are good and true and will most certainly come to pass regardless of my understanding.  And His promises are efficacious for infants who are too little to understand.  And for elderly people who are afflicted with senility.  And for the mentally ill who have lost touch with reality.  And for the comatose.  It is good to understand God's Word, to meditate upon it, to cherish it.  But when we can't, when we don't, He is faithful for He cannot deny Himself.

Happy Things

Going out for a beer after choir. 

Now and then, several of us go to a nearby bar/restaurant and talk and laugh.  Last night, instead of beer, I got a Captain Morgan and Coke.  It was the Wednesday special and was cheap.  Mmmm.

Happy time.  Happy tastebuds.

Happy Things

Mitford.

I love these books.  This woman is a fabulous author.  Nothing hard and ugly.  But neither is it unrealistic.  Just nice stories.  I'm glad there are so many in the series.

I hadn't stayed up reading past midnight in years.  And she pulled me right in.

Happy.

To the Mall

This weekend a fantastic idea came to me about a few Christmas gifts.  So yesterday Maggie and I went to the mall to buy them. 

It felt weird.
I realized that I haven't been in a mall since we moved nearly six years ago.  (At least, I don't think so.)

In other matters, I began a craft project which will be a Christmas project.  I really want to do this.  It will be FUN.  And comforting.  But I'm also leery about what this will do to my time available for other projects.  You know -- "projects."  Like making supper.  Or reading schoolwork with Maggie.  Or doing house repairs.  Or doing laundry.  Or vacuuming.  "Projects."

One of those projects --cooking-- has been receiving more attention recently.  For so many months I've relegated cooking to the bare necessities: get some calories into us and wash the dishes.  I'm ready for some tasty food.  And man, oh man, the food here has been delicious the past week.  The refrigerator is full of awesome leftovers.  And I have a day ahead of cooking Soft Foods for someone who's having oral surgery tomorrow.  Tonight is chicken and dumplings.  And hotfresh bread.  Mmmm.

Also in other matters, we attended APT's Antony and Cleopatra this past weekend.  I wasn't impressed.  When we saw the play several years ago, it seemed more of a history.  This time it seemed to celebrate the immoral relationship between the title characters.  I wish we hadn't gone.  And I don't know that I've ever thought that before. 

Last week was the week-of-crazy.  All sorts of wonderful things to do.  Now it's catch-up time.  Back to my stove....

Happy Things

A visit from a friend I see, oh, about once a year or less since we moved.

I squealed and bounced up and down when her email arrived, asking about a visit.

(Oh, and then Pastor went and talked during Bible class --which she attended-- about how the love of Jesus unites us, and makes those friendships-in-the-Lord so dear and special, like there's never a disruption, even when years pass between visits.)

And I love it that she always suggests playing a hymn and singing together before she leaves.

Happy!

Happy Things

This is the bestest crucifix in the whole wide world.

It used to be by the pulpit.  I wish it were still there.  But it remains in the room that's used for Bible class. 

Happy memories.
Happy saints.
Happy angels.
Lovely doctrine.

Touch

I've had one massage in my life, and I left more stressed and tense from it than I went in.  (I won't ever go back to that place -- that's for sure!)  The chatty masseuse, however, did expound upon something I agreed with: the need for people to be touched.  Physical contact is necessary to both physical and mental health.  The masseuse desired for people to believe in the importance of touch -- of course, she wants them to pay for her services. 

I thought it was sad sad sad that people have to pay a stranger to be touched.

Some friends linked to an article today about how everything is so over-sexed in our society that there can be no comfortable (and normal and healthy) platonic touch.  Innocent touching is assumed to have sexual overtones.  For example, occasionally at work my boss would like my dress and couldn't quite tell from looks alone what the fabric was made of.  So she asked permission to touch the sleeve, and apologized for even wanting to do that.  But of course it was okay for her to touch the fabric -- oftentimes that's the only way you can know what a fabric is.  It says something about society that she must ask, instead of just giving me a pat on the arm.

Not long ago, Gary and I watched The Major and the Minor.  Excellent movie from 1942!  Funny.  Sweet.  A young woman is short of cash and needs a train ticket.  She passes herself off as a 12-yr-old so that she can buy a half-price ticket.  A man on the train ends up watching out for this "child" and taking care of her.  She spends the night in his compartment.  When his fiancee finds out there is a girl with him, she's livid.  But then (and here's where the expectations and moral changes of the last 70 years are exposed) the fiancee learns that the "girl" is a 12-yr-old.  And of course everybody knows there would no hanky-panky with a child, nothing whatsoever indecent, and that the fiance was being gentlemanly to take care of a child and protect her. 

Oh, and it's not just touch.  Words are over-sexualized too.  It surprises me how a simple comment can be twisted into some sort of sleazy innuendo.   I hear it on tv shows and in real life.  Sometimes I say something and am met with eyebrow waggles & giggles in response.  I know that they've mixed in some innuendo.  Sometimes I can figure it out.  But sometimes I am clueless as to what they're insinuating.  In the name of "freedom" (sexual freedom, that is), we have actually become isolated, in what we say, in physical contact, and in the people we can hang out with.

Happy Things

Tomatoes on a sandwich.
GARDEN tomatoes, not store ones.
A specialty usually confined to August and September.

Only three small tomatoes remain on my window sill.  And they were picked green and have ripened indoors.  Still, they are GARDEN tomatoes.

Happy sandwiches!

Happy Things

As I've been thinking about "things that make me happy," I'm pondering the distinction between happy/contentment, or happy/thankful, or happy/joyful.  Maybe it's just a silly little hang-up in my own mind, but "happy" seems more, uh...., giddy than other kinds of joy.  And I can see where some of the things that are most important to me, the things that bring the most contentment, the things are the most valuable, might not necessarily be the things that make me "happy" ... because I take them for granted. 

That doesn't mean I don't appreciate them!  It just means that I am accustomed to having them in my life, and they don't necessarily excite because I am comfortable with them. 

I don't know if that is good or bad.

Harry Potter

Is it really that hard to understand that reading a story where the setting includes magic and witches is not the same thing as practicing witchcraft?

Is it really that hard to understand that dressing up as a robot, a crayon, or a dragon, and distributing (or receiving) candy, is not the same thing as Satan worship?

Happy Things

Curls.

I wish there were more!  But hooray for the ones God's allowed me to have.

Happy curls.

Happy Things

Singing descants.
Happy.




Oh, as part of "happy things," why not toss in all of choir?

Happy Things

My friend Jane started a blog-plan this week:
Right now I feel a little bit of a need to focus, specifically, on all of the large and small things in my life that add to my happiness. So, each day for at least a month, I am going to post a picture and blog about one of these things. Some will be totally frivolous and some will be big and obvious. I'm doing this for me, but I hope that you will enjoy it too. 

I don't have a cell phone that takes pictures, so I'm not likely to come up with photos to accompany my posts.  I'll try, but I ain't promisin' nothin'.  For instance, yesterday I could've posted the most lovely sunset... if I'd had a camera.  It sure did put a joy in my heart to see all those lovely colors swirled in the evening sky!

Today is likewise photoless.  (Even if I'd had a camera, it's a security problem to take pictures of a bank.) 

Today at work I was in drive-ups.  Alone.  Introvert heaven!!  Sure, I had customers.  And now and then I had to interact with coworkers.  But overall, I had a day of working in my own little drive-up room, by myself (an unusual occurrence).  And between customers there was no radio.  And there was an awesome book to read.  And nobody to make small-talk with.  I could even sing hymns when I wanted to.  And (of course) no floors to sweep, no socks to fold, no onions to chop, no lawn begging "mow me!"  Even with a humongous number of transactions (almost double my normal load), today was a rest, a vacation, a rejuvenation-day.

Drive-ups by myself.  Happy.

Redemption

Some of us are too young to remember redeeming Green Stamps.

Pastors try to find ways to explain what it is to redeem something.  You buy it back.  It was yours.  But now you have to pay to get it back.  Kind of like a pawn shop, eh?

So it was just a mite mind-blowing what Pastor explained the other day.



The Lord gave to Adam and Eve dominion over creation.  And with that authority, they sold all of creation into bondage.  If everything everything everything was given over to death and sin and Satan, what did God have left with which to pay?  With what could He buy back the creation that had been His?  Everything He made had been corrupted.  It's not like He could trade mountains to buy back the roses.  It's not as if He could relinquish fish to redeem ducks.

But His life and His love were not corrupted.

His life was the only thing that could buy back everything everything everything. 

Getting a Driver's License

Oh, the logic of a 4-yr-old!

As my daughter and granddaughters are out walking, they see Auntie Maggie and Olivia (Andrew's girlfriend) drive past.  Olivia is driving.

Alia (age 4) is shocked.  "Olivia is driving?!"

Her mommy says, "Yes, she's a grown-up."

The wheels turn in Alia's head.  "But Maggie is the same age as Olivia, and she doesn't drive."

"Well, Alia, people are different.  Some grown-ups don't drive."

Alia thinks.

And thinks.

And thinks some more.

Then she concludes, "So, Olivia can drive because she's in love."




Now, stop laughing.
Virtually every driver that Alia knows is part of a couple.  So her logic is fabulous.
Even if it is wrong.

Two Sunsets

SO cool the other night --
Leaving work, I saw a big, bright fireball of a sun slipping below the horizon.  A gorgeous sunset!  I turned my back to that sliver of light as I stepped into my car and pulled out of the parking lot. 

I climbed the sideroad and turned onto the main thoroughfare, headed east.  When I glanced into the rearview mirror, that huge sun was up again and just barely touching the horizon. 

Really?  That little of a height difference meant a second view of the dipping down below the horizon?  The timing was perfect.  The sun was beautiful.   And this is what can mean to live in kettle-moraine area.  Wow!

House Painting

Oops.

Check out that color.

Our house was orange. Yes, yes, a brownish orange, indeed. But oranger than I liked. So when it was time to paint, we were looking for darker and browner. But when the paint was mixed and the first strokes applied to the siding, it was obvious that my paint was brighter and more orange than what we had before.

But with my work schedule and the weather forecasts and how late it is in the fall, this is the color we've got for at least the next half-year. I keep telling myself that the point of paint is to protect the wood from the elements. And orange paint will do that just as well as brown.

Three afternoons. That was all it took. Of course, my body aches from the work. But the job is done. (Well, it's done until we decide to change to a better color.)

Maggie helped with toting and fetching. She helped with getting supper on the table. She even tried her hand at a bit of the painting.

Note to self for next time: A four-inch paint brush is too big.  It's ridiculous that holding a paintbrush full of paint wears out my hands and wrists so fast.  In that vein, I need to allow more days for the task next time.  I realized this week that all the painters I know are men under 40, thin men, men with muscular physiques.  Painting is more physically draining than I recognized.

Second note to self:  A neighbor suggested using drop cloths on the driveway, concrete stoop, and the ledge that sits atop the brick. Boy, I'm glad he said that! I was thinking that being outside meant I didn't have a floor to protect. But as messy as I think the paint job turned out, it's still neater and spiffier than the previous two paint jobs. I could correct only a few of the errors that were tucked under the earlier paint jobs. But even that helped erase part of the old Sloppies.  Gary commented that it all looked so clean and tidy when he drove in tonight.  I'll count that as a Success!

Does the Bible Have Errors?

"Not everything in the Bible actually happened."

Some people think that. 

Some people think that God didn't really say what's in the Bible, but some humans made it up.  Or at least, people added stuff to jazz it up.

A)  If the Bible isn't entirely true, then how do we know which parts are and aren't true?  If the part about miracles were iffy, then how would I know whether the Bible is right when it says "Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners"?

B)  Jesus said, "I am the way, the truth, and the life."  How could the One who is truth give us His en-scripturated word with errors?  That would mean He wasn't the truth.

C)  Who was it that suggested in the Garden of Eden, "Did God really say ...?" 

A Pharmacy Without the Abortion Pill

About a month ago I was horrified to see the abortion pill on sale at Walgreens, big and bold, obvious and in-your-face, on the shelf next to the Claritin and Zyrtec.  I was wishing for a pharmacy that didn't carry the abortion pill.  Or at least didn't push it quite the way Walgreens does.

Well, guess what?  A new pharmacy has opened in the Pick-&-Save strip mall at 164 and VV.  It's next to George Webb.  I went in today and asked if they carried the abortion pill.  The pharmacist apologized that she didn't have any.  She said she'd planned to order it but hadn't yet.  I explained that I had been shocked and offended over the situation at Walgreens, and I was stopping by to determine if I might want to change pharmacies. 

I also told her that, when I asked friends about a pharmacy that didn't push abortion, I heard from several people that they'd want to patronize such a pharmacy if there were one available.  She said she wanted to fit in with the community and serve the community, and she was open to not-carrying the drug.  She said that, if she did decide to carry the pill, it would be more appropriate for it to be behind the counter instead of out on the shelf.  She said that, if Walgreens has it, it wouldn't be like she was preventing access to the pill for someone who really needed it.  So if you're interested in encouraging this pharmacy to not-carry, now would be a good time to stop by and kindly ask if they might make a decision to win your business.

The Unjust Steward -- Shrewdness

Shrewd.  It sounds sneaky.  And slick.  And cheaty.  And bad.

So in Psalm 18, it seems weird to pray,

With the merciful, You will show Yourself merciful.
With the blameless man, You will show Yourself blameless.
With the pure, You will show Yourself pure.
And with the devious, You will show Yourself shrewd.

God is shrewd?  IF I were merciful and blameless and pure (in and of myself) I could look at this psalm and say, "Whew!  God needs to ante up.  He owes me.  He's going to be merciful and blameless and pure to me because I am SO good."

There's just one small problem with that ....




So with the devious, He shows Himself shrewd.
I've never been keen on that verse.  It seems damning.

But ...
if it's true that Jesus is "unjust,"
if it's true that Jesus is "shrewd,"
if it's true that the Father commends Him for
"shrewdness" and for "wastefulness,"

(Luke 16)

maybe ...
I can comfort myself in thinking that His shrewdness includes mercy to us who don't deserve it, thus changing our devious hearts.  Maybe He "brings down haughty looks" not by smashing people, but by bringing them to repentance so that they are no longer haughty but can humbly receive His wasteful forgiveness.

Shrewd indeed.

The Unjust Steward -- Wastefulness

Pastor has been having fun recently pointing out connections between stories.  He keeps reminding us that the chapter/verse divisions weren't in the original manuscript of the Bible.  We tend to isolate the stories into the chunks we read as a unit.  But Pastor keeps pointing out how a story in one chapter is connected to a story in the preceding or following chapters.

For example, the parable of the unjust steward is in chapter 16 of Luke's gospel.  Well, if we have a hard time understanding it, what can we learn from the parable's location in the gospel? 

The stories immediately preceding the parable are the lost sheep, the lost coin, and the lost son (also known as "the prodigal son," and occasionally known as "the prodigal father").  We've got this wasteful shepherd, leaving his flock in danger to go search for one naughty lambkin.  We've got this wasteful son, frittering away his father's money.  We've got this wasteful father, loving the wayward son, and then throwing a wasteful party for the boy when he returns.  Wasteful wasteful wasteful!

And what instigated those parables in chapter 15?  The Pharisees were all crabby because Jesus was being wasteful, hanging out with scumbums, and frittering away forgiveness on people who obviously didn't deserve it!  Oh, such wastefulness!

And then we come to chapter 16.  "There was a certain rich man who had a steward, and an accusation was brought to him that this man was wasting his goods."

Yup.  That was the accusation against Jesus.  That was what got Him killed.  They said He was wasting God's goods, wasting God's forgiveness.

And the Master commended Him.

The Unjust Steward

Remember the parable of the unjust steward (Luke 16)?  It's one of those confusing stories -- the master commends the guy who did something unfair.  At first blush, it sounds like God is saying, "Good for you, Mr Cheater." 

Jesus did something very unfair: He doesn't require us to pay what we owe.  That is, what is due to God [perfection, and punishment for imperfection] is something we can't pay.  And we don't have to.

But there was one thing that kept leaving me unsettled about the parable.  The dude in the story says that he's going to cook the books so that, when he's fired, the folks he helped will receive him into their homes.  Well, that's self-serving manipulation.  That's not like Jesus!  And I kept getting stuck on that point.  Of course, I realize that parables aren't exact in their correspondence.  But still....

Pastor explained that the motivation of the steward-in-the-story was irrelevant to how much help the people received.  They benefited, regardless of whether the steward was trying to benefit them or trying to benefit himself. 

Okay.  That helped.
Now I can get back to paying attention to the rest of the story.

The Law Within the Heart

Sixteen hymns in our new hymnal by Timothy Dudley-Smith, several mentioning God's sovereignty.  Overall there's not really anything wrong with them, but there are so many richer options.  And I tend to get cranky over the line that says Christ's sacrifice for sin begins "the covenant of grace, the law within the heart."  When the line flies past during a church service, it always strikes me as equating grace and law.

Now, if we understand "the law within the heart" not to be a new law, new rules, new demands, maybe this turn-of-phrase could be okay.  Between Hebrews (10 and 8) and Jeremiah (31), the "law within the heart" appears to be freedom from the written code of the law, the mercy of God poured out on you so that you are made new, and so that you joyfully and freely do what is good and right and of service to the neighbor.

Is that what the hymn indicates?  I don't know.  But this is what I'm trying to convince myself it's saying.

A Lapful of Girlies

God's Word Is All-Sufficient

Luke 9:13 --
"You give them something to eat."  "We ain't got nuthin'."

But earlier in the chapter, Jesus had sent out the twelve apostles, without money or food or backpack or anything.  The only thing they possessed was His word to preach.  And it was sufficient!  Amazingly, it "worked" to have nothing but God's word.

Not long afterward, they're in the wilderness, faced with people in need, and they told Jesus, "We have nothing to give."

Guys!  Guys!  Of course you have something to give!  You have the Bread of Life.  You have the message of the kingdom of God.  You have forgiveness for sinners.  You have life.  You have God's word. 

We just don't get it.  We believe God's word is sufficient.  Except we don't.

Two Tables

Quick review, in case you don't remember what you learned in confirmation class:  The first three commandments are the First Table of the Law ("you shall love the Lord your God ...") and the rest are the Second Table of the Law ("... and your neighbor as yourself").

You know what?

The Lord's Prayer is kind of like that too.  A "first table" and a "second table."

We pray that God's name is hallowed,
that His kingdom come, and
that His will be done.

That is about doctrine.  And who God is.  And what He does for us.

The rest of the prayer is more about what happens to us here on earth, that He would provide for our temporal needs, and that we be forgiven and rescued from our sinfulness, and that this world and our sinful nature not overwhelm us and destroy faith.

Molly Sweeney

A modern play.  Not the kind we usually go see at APT.  But boy, I'm glad we went. 

Molly Sweeney isn't just a story.  The words were carefully crafted so that's it's almost like poetry in its prose.  It's a story of a blind woman who is given sight at the age of 41, and what it means for her to learn to see.  Because, after all, seeing isn't something our eyes do -- it's something our eyes and brain do together.  And it's the story of how her new sight affects her world.

It's a story that will resonate with homeschoolers and others who watch learning take place.

If you love someone with Asperger's, this story will make you laugh with warm recognition.

It's a story that shows the immense ability of the "disabled."

And it's a story that teaches us about contentment and joy ... and how coveting robs us of joy.




I would love to sit down and read the text of the play again, 
to catch more of what slipped past so quickly during the play.

Using the Same Old Liturgy All the Time

Novelty, simply as such, can have only entertainment value. And [Christians] don’t go to church to be entertained. They go to use the service, or, if you prefer, to enact it. Every service is a structure of acts and words through which we receive a sacrament or repent or supplicate or adore. And it enables us to do these things best (if you like, it "works" best) when, through long familiarity, we don’t have to think about it. As long as you notice, and have to count the steps, you are not yet dancing but only learning to dance. A good shoe is a shoe you don't notice.  Good reading becomes possible when you need not consciously think about eyes, or light, or print, or spelling.  The perfect church service would be one we were almost unaware of; our attention would have been on God.  But every novelty prevents this.   It fixes our attention on the service itself, and thinking about worship is a different thing from worshiping. 

C. S. Lewis

in Letters to Malcolm

(partially quoted in Jan Karon's

A New Song, page 254)

And this would be the explanation for something I find in my own life.  Once I say "we beseech Thee to hear us, good Lord" while the rest are praying "we implore you to hear us, good Lord," ...

or I say "conceived by the Holy Ghost" when y'all say "conceived by the Holy Spirit," ...

or I sing "go before the face of the Lord to prepare His way" while the others sing "go before the Lord to prepare His way," ...

that clash in wording

(or even focusing on the words

so that I am able to say what y'all say)

means I stop praying

and "think about praying."

Today's Laugh

I told a chemistry joke....


There was no reaction.

stolen from Melody

Computer Fix

I think I fixed it!

Loads of old programs were wiped out and not re-installed.  I even figured out how to delete the back-up file that was space-hogging after I'd re-installed everything.  (Okay, so some of you are shaking your head at the simplicity of this.  Shhh!  I am proud of myself.)  The computer moved a whole lot faster after I ditched everything and put it all back.  But when I got rid of the back-up file (which the computer self-generated) everything moved much faster yet.  Hot diggity dog!

Now I suppose it's time to get back to housecleaning and yard work and homeschooling and all that other Regular-Life stuff.


In other news, the girls are back from a visit to Texas.
Nathan quit his job at Xerox to start a new job editing.
We've been singing unusually good hymns the last few weeks.
Maggie started volunteering at school again, a fabulous experience.

Philip took a brief trip to Canada just for fun.
Brewers game and tailgating with some friends this week.
The strawberry bed has been undone and planted to grass.
Two APT plays so far this year, and two still on the docket.
Olivia went to college (nearby) so Andrew is gone more.
Maggie and I joined Curves so that she can get in shape.
Now that the computer is fixed, maybe we can turn our attention to the water situation next.  It's getting funny how the gals at the grocery store expect to see us every day for water refills.
It's been nice to hear several other adults in the last week or so say that at 9:00 they're getting ready for bed.

Don't Look Back

So this fellow wants to follow Jesus.  But first he wants to say bye to his family.  Jesus says that no one who looks back is fit for the kingdom of God (Luke 9:57-62). 

But when Elijah told Elisha to follow him, Elisha wanted to hold off long enough to say bye to his family (1 Kings 19).  And Elijah said, "Go ahead."

That always seemed oddly inconsistent to me.

But recently someone suggested something.  "No one is fit for the kingdom of God."  No one. 

What if I can be committed enough?

No one.

What if I can be pious enough?

No one.

What if I can love the Lord my God with ALL my heart and all my soul and all my strength and all my mind?

Oh, really?  What if you can? 
Let's see how that goes for you....
(In other words, no one ....)

What we see in Elisha is that God (through Elijah) is patient and giving.  God understands our weakness.  And He forgives it and bears it.  And He chooses us even though we --in ourselves-- are not "fit for the kingdom of God."

Today's Laugh

Can you tell the difference between a piano, a tuna fish, and a bucket of glue?

Well,
you can tune-a piano,
but you can't piano a tuna.


But,
wait, ...

what about the bucket of glue???


I knew you'd get hung up on that!

stolen from a co-worker

Not Willingly

Jeremiah talks about suffering and mercy and the Lord's compassion (Lamentations 3). 

Though He causes grief, yet He will show compassion according to the multitude of His mercies.  For He does not afflict willingly.

Paul talks about how we are sons of God, joined to Christ, suffering now but awaiting redemption and glory (Romans 8).  Again we hear about God's unwillingness.

The creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of Him who subjected it in hope.

That must be why we call it God's "alien work." He doesn't want to punish, but He will do it if necessary to rescue us.



It's like Paul and Jeremiah are saying and believing the same thing.

Doth

Boy, the things you learn in choir....

"Doth" does not rhyme with "moth." It says like "duth," like as if it rhymed with "us" said-by-a-kid-with-a-lisp.

I guess it makes sense: it should sound like "does" except for the zzz.

Being in Love

Elad Nehorai writes that he didn't love his wife when they were married.  It is a most-excellent article about what love IS, and how selfish it is to "be in love," and even touches on Disney movies. 

A couple of quotes:

Marriage started sucking away that emotion.  I tried so hard to keep that fire going, to keep that emotion alight, but it got harder and harder.  I mean, how you can feel that burning love when you're sitting at the table discussing how to use the last $20 in your bank account?

Through giving, through doing things for my wife, the emotion that I had been so desperately seeking naturally came about.  It wasn't something I could force, just something that would come about as a result of my giving.



Megan, thanks for pointing out the article.
Other people, go read it.

Broken

Earlier this summer, we had to change filters on the Culligan water filters.  But after the maintenance, something went wrong.  The line keeps clogging.  We fix it.  The water works for a couple of days.  Then it clogs again.  Right now, we're buying water in town about 5 times a week.

Earlier this summer, I fixed the dryer.  Since then, the machine runs fine, but the exhaust vent keeps detaching from the exhaust hole through the window.  I keep fixing it. 

Last year, after I fixed the old [smaller] refrigerator, the temperature problem returned.  We struggled with puddles of water in the refrigerator for months until I finally fixed it a few weeks ago.  Well, at least, I think I fixed it.  Problems seem to recur around here recently.  I still hold out hope that the fridge is fixed-fixed.

Over the last couple of weeks, my computer has been misbehaving.  So my job-of-the-week has been to carefully transfer files and back up everything, with the plan of wiping the computer clean and reinstalling everything.  That scares me.  But it needs to be fixed.

At my doctor's appointment this week, he diagnosed what's wrong with my wrists.  It's not carpal tunnel after all.  It's arthritis, especially at the base of my thumbs.  That explains the brokenness in my hands.  There's really no good solution for it.  But at least I know what it is and what some of the options are.

All the neighbors have lawn tractors.  We have two push mowers.  The older one died (beyond resuscitation) today.

I'm beginning to think it's time to give up on gardening.  I love the fresh produce.  But the work required doesn't seem to mesh with that whole arthritis-thing.  Or maybe I'm just a wuss.

If you will excuse me, I'm headed back to my Project List Of Repairs.

Maybe He WAS Making Sense After All

The other day at work, the customer said something so confusing.

We turned on the microphones and said hello.  He didn't respond.  Fine -- he was rummaging around looking for whatever paperwork he needed to conduct business through the drive-up.  Since he had nothing to say, we turned off the mic. 

After a bit, I noticed that he was facing the tube through which we send paperwork back and forth from the employees to the customers.  I guessed that he was talking to us.  My partner turned on the mic and said, "Yes?" 

The man responded, "Thank you," and sent the tube to us. It arrived empty.  Odd.

"Thank you?  What kind of response is that??" my partner wondered.


So I explained to the customer that the mics were off and asked him to please repeat what he'd said a moment earlier.  He had asked, "May I please have a pen?"  When my partner said, "Yes," he thought she was answering him, and he responded with a polite "thank you."

I laughed with delight over the way the miscommunication came out on both ends.  When all the pieces were put together, it made perfect sense.  But hearing only one end or the other -- weirdo indeed.


So why are we prone to be irritated when somebody does something like that?  When the clerk is crabby, but you don't know how she was reamed out three customers ago?  When a driver does something dumb on the highway, but maybe he's just learning to drive?  When a friend seems to make no sense?  So often, we're just missing a piece here, or misheard a word there.  A little forbearance and a little clarification goes a long way.

The Handwriting on the Wall

And you, being dead in your trespasses
and the uncircumcision of your flesh,
He has made alive together with Him,
having forgiven you all trespasses,
having wiped out the handwriting of requirements 
that was against us,
which was contrary to us.
And He has taken it out of the way,
and nailed it to the cross.  (Colossians 2)


Remember Belshazzar (Nebuchanezzar's son)?  Big ol' party.  Lots of drinking.  Lots of worshiping idols.  A hand that appeared out of nowhere and started writing something on the wall.  People freaking out.  (You would too, if a bodiless hand appeared and started graffiti-ing up your wall.)  "Hey, remember Daniel?  Let's get him here.  He's really wise."

And what had the hand written?  "You have been weighed in the balances and found wanting" (Daniel 5).




A long time ago, in a galaxy state far far away, there was no midweek Bible study at our church.  The men had 9-to-5 jobs.  The women were stay-at-home moms, and many of them were involved in Explorers, a humongous, city-wide, non-denom Bible study.  They finally talked me into going, due in part to my desire for a preschool-like experience for my eldest kid.  Oh my goodness -- I'd never heard of so many rules for attending Bible class!

I broke rules on my very first day.  Explorers begins with opening worship, followed by small-group discussion of the previous week's lesson, and then everybody gathers again for what is essentially preaching on the week's passages.  You are not allowed to talk in the small-group discussion if you have not completed your at-home study of the passages and written your answers to the homework.  My first week?  I obviously hadn't done homework.  And I dared to talk.  Can you believe it?

(The ladies in my class were thankful.  They were confused by how often the Old Testament talked about "So-and-so, son of So-and-so, son of So-and-so."  I knew the explanation and told them the brief history tidbit.  And everybody was happy.  Until a couple of women from my church found out later that I'd broken the No-Speaking rule.  They were not happy.  Apparently, our small group gained a naughty reputation with the leadership for speaking too much and too candidly with each other.)

Over the weeks and months I attended Explorers, I grew to love the women in my small group.  Most of them were Baptist.  (In the South, "non-denom" has a decidedly Baptist feel to it!)  These women were burdened by the law.  They wanted to be good Christian women.  They desired the Lord and yearned for Him, but they were constantly being beaten up by the law.  They did not know Him to be a God of grace, but a god of rules and commands and laws and requirements.

Oh, another of the rules for Explorers small-group is "no denomination-specific discussion."  Everything has to be non-denom.  Uh.  Yeah.  I guess I broke that rule too.  I did manage (most of the time) to hold it in with regard to the sacraments and the office of the ministry and other Lutheran views.  But the gospel?  I had to speak the gospel.  How could I not?  And after all, supposedly all Christians believe the Gospel, right?  We're readin' the Bible here, folks!  How could we keep mum about the mercy of the Lord in Christ Jesus??

So when those dear women fretted that God would zot them for their inability to live as they ought, I talked about Jesus and His cross and the forgiveness of sins.  A few bristled.  Many sighed with relief.  Several hugged me and thanked me. 

Near the end of the year came the story of Daniel and the handwriting on the wall.  "You have been weighed in the balances and found wanting."

Oh, the outpouring of words that day.  The baring of hearts.  The fear.  So much fear.  "I'm not good enough."  "I am going to be found wanting.  I deserve to be destroyed."

Is there any greater joy than to be able to speak to a sinner: "But Jesus was the One put in the balance.  He took your sin.  He was 'found wanting.'  But His blood forgives your sin.  His righteousness is your own.  When God weighs you in the balance, all He finds is holiness and perfection.  No, it's not your own, that you earned.  But it is yours, because your Jesus gives it to you in His mercy and love."  And the person argues with you: "No, it just can't be.   You don't understand.  You don't know what kind of secret sins I have.  You don't know my heart's doubts."  And you get to "argue" back with them, "No, really.  He forgave all your trespasses.  He has wiped out the handwriting of requirements."



Sometimes it's really cool to be with people who aren't Lutheran, people who are tickled pink when they hear the gospel in all its fresh comfort.


Given the age of most of the women, and given how long ago this happened, many of the dear saints in my small group are probably already in heaven.  Someday I'll see them again.  And hug them.  And talking to them, my hidden Southern drawl will creep back into my usually-Northern voice. 

Today's Thought

When you are dead,
you don't know you are dead.
It is difficult only for the others.


It is the same when you are stupid.

stolen from Jane's Facebook

Prayer Chains

Elijah heckled the prophets of Baal (1 Kings 19): Your gods are asleep.  Or on vacation.  They can't heeeeear you.  Better speak up.

That's how we often treat prayer chains.  God doesn't know what's going on, so we need to tell Him.  Or God doesn't care very much, so we will arm-twist Him into doing what we demand.  Doesn't "storm the gates of heaven" sound a little like the storming of the Bastille -- crowds overpowering an enemy?

When we join in prayer (at the altar or via prayer chains), the point is not to make God do what we want.  In times of national disaster, or at times of cancer diagnoses, or when there's been a nasty accident, we pray for the sake of faith.   We pray that none of us would be scandalized in the Faith because of the circumstances of our own lives: "If this is happening to me, surely God has abandoned me."  We pray likewise that none of us is scandalized by the tragedies of our brothers and sisters: "What kind of a God allows this to happen?"

We pray that we trust the Lord.
We pray that suffering does not turn us from Him.
We pray that He uses events (good or bad) to draw us closer to Him.

Oh, yeah -- and we also pray that temporal suffering be alleviated if it be His will.

"Drain the Fat"

Those recipes are always telling you to brown the meat and then to drain the fat.  For years I was a good girl; I followed the directions.

Then butter grew more expensive.
 
It bugged me: I would drain the fat off the hamburger, and then I would add olive oil or butter or whatever to the recipe.  Why?  I began to use the grease from the hamburger as the fat in the recipe.

I understand that, for many years, it was popular to decry saturated fats.  "Drain the fat from the sausage?  Oh yes, then use margarine in the recipe."  "Throw out the hamburger grease, and then put Crisco in the skillet to saute the veggies for your casserole."  Science is beginning to catch up to my mantra of: "The fat God made must be healthier than the fat the chemists invented, regardless of what current scientific studies conclude."

But how do we explain decades-old recipes that said to "drain the fat" -- recipes before Hate-Saturated-Fats became trendy?

In one of our food-history books, I came across information about rations and scrimping during WWII.  According to this book, "drain the fat" (and donate it for needs pertinent to the war effort) was a patriotic thing to do.  Keeping your bacon grease or your hamburger fat to use for your own family's needs?  Selfish! 



Ah ha!  That may be part of the answer to The Great Drain-the-Fat Mystery!