Creation of Angels

Does Psalm 104:4 indicate that maybe the angels were created on the second day?

The psalm starts with light (day 1) and then goes to the heavens (day 2). It then talks about the seas and the grasses and trees (day 3). Then the sun and moon (day 4). Finally it talks about the creatures in the seas (day 5). In the section where the psalm is talking about the second day of creation, the psalmist mentions that God makes the angels. That doesn't assuredly mean that the angels were created on the second day, but it sure makes me wonder if that might be when it happened.

Zippy's Demise

Eleven years ago we bought a 4-yr-old Corolla. She already had 122,000 miles on her. And she had an irreparable dent in her back bumper. She had been sitting on the used-car lot for a while because nobody wanted her with that not-too-big dent. So we got her for a very good price. My dad thought we made a bad decision, buying a car with a dent. But she was good to us. She lasted many years. I don't think we fixed anything for the first 7-8 years we owned her; we just kept up with periodic maintenance.

Her brakes failed on Monday. Repairing her would have been manageable, except that her fuel lines were about rusted through too. The mechanic told me that, by law, he wasn't supposed to let me drive her home because the brakes were in that bad of shape. He told me that I didn't need to hurry to get her off his lot; a few days would be fine. Hey, I don't move too fast or think too quickly! I thought "a few days" was plenty fast. I found a junk dealer who would pay us for the car, instead of just having her towed away for nothing, or given to one of those places that takes donated vehicles. Because of symposium this week, I couldn't sit on the decision. And I didn't want to inconvenience our mechanic by leaving her sit on his lot for the whole week. So I sold her on Wednesday. It was heart-breaking. She had gone over 300,000 miles. She was the only car I ever had that had a name.

We're not sure whether to start car-shopping to replace her. We are inclined at this point to manage with the cars we have. So now it's time to get serious about toughening up my leg muscles so that I will be able to go UP and down and UP and down the local hills when we bike to town and back. We'll also need to buy another bike or two, and some helmets. I think the loss of Zippy is going to force us into more exercise, which will be good in the long run, but right now will be a bit of a strain on our time.

Janesville

After news of the GM plant closing, the city I love(d) is dealing with more devastation. This time it's flooding. The paper has a variety of stories, but none of the stories told me what I'd heard from Janesville people: that the library may have to close because of flooding and that the bridges are being compromised.

When we read about the signs of the end of the world, the floods and earthquakes and wars, I realized that those things would mean ruin and mess and injury and death. But something else crossed my mind this weekend. It also means ruined crops. And later, food shortages.

Gas prices are rising. Food prices are rising. There are shortages of food in other parts of the world. Our government has mandated that we need to put a certain amount of corn into making inefficient fuel for our vehicles. And now God has destroyed a whole lot of the corn crops. Even those of us with dry basements, even people in other countries, are going to be feeling the sting of these floods. (But not at all as much as those who are losing their homes and possessions!)

Presidential Race

Jane recently posted about Obama's opinions on abortion rights, with quotes about how he thinks that even babies who are born (as in, they didn't have the sense to not die from the abortion, but were born alive) should not be considered real persons, under the protection of law.

And then Cheryl brought to my attention Obama's stance on a Supreme Court decision handed down last week. Obama agrees with a court decision that says enemies of our nation who are held in prison camps should be awarded all the same civil liberties and protections that citizens have. McCain condemns this decision.

The second half of Paula's post on these topics sums it up pretty well.

Baby Picture

Katie posted a link to a picture of my grand-daughter. She tells me it was hard for the sonogram technician to find the baby at first, ... because this is one VERY active baby, doing somersaults, and pokin' Mommy a lot. It's supposed to be another month-and-a-half or two before Katie should be able to feel the baby. I foresee a tree-climbing, bike-riding, couch-bouncing speed-demon on her way.

Spinach Feta Bread

10-oz pkg of frozen chopped spinach
6 oz feta cheese (about 1 ¼ or 1 ½ cups crumbled)

1 ¾ cup milk (warmed to about 110°)
1/3 cup olive oil
1 egg
1/3 cup sugar
2 tsp sea salt
½ tsp nutmeg
2 pkg dry yeast (about 1 ½ Tbsp)

2 cups whole wheat flour
1 cup white flour

5-6 cups white flour


Thaw (but do not squeeze and drain) the spinach.
Stir together milk, oil, egg, sugar, salt, spice, and yeast.
Stir in ww flour and 1 cup of white flour. Beat for 2 minutes.
Stir in spinach and crumbled cheese.
Add the rest of the white flour, stir and knead till dough makes a ball and is not too sticky.
Let rise once or twice. Punch down between risings.
Shape into loaves and bake in greased pans.
Two 9x5" loaves would bake about 55 minutes at about 350-375°.
Six small loaves (about 2 ½ x 5 ½") would be about 35 minutes.
Muffin-sized rolls or breadsticks are about 20-25 minutes.

The Roast

In an attempt to get some barbecue made today so that we'd have something real to eat at the end of the week in between sessions at the symposium, yesterday I took a chuck roast out of the freezer to thaw overnight. When I grabbed it off the counter this morning to put into the crockpot, I noticed something scribbled on the white paper wrapped around the roast. I assumed the butcher had hand-written somebody's name on the meat, but I couldn't figure out why someone else's meat would've gotten mixed up with our side of beef.

Then I got it.
"Roast" was crossed out. "Norris" was written in.

Chuck Roast Norris.

I knew that came from one of my sons.
I live with weird people!!!

John Back from the Dead?

In Matthew 10, Jesus sent out the Twelve and gave them authority to heal the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, and cast out demons.

In Luke 9, the same event is told much more succinctly. Immediately following the commissioning of the Twelve, we hear the story about Herod wondering about Jesus, and who He was and what He was up to. Some people thought Jesus was John the Baptist back from the dead, or maybe Elijah. I don't think I'd ever noticed those two stories back-to-back before.

Yeah -- people really were being raised from the dead. No wonder John-come-back was considered a reasonable possibility. Before I'd always thought they were being so stupid to have thought up an explanation of John's coming back. But other people were being raised. Why not John too? (Of course, that wasn't the true explanation of who this Jesus-guy was, but the rumors going around don't sound so outlandish in light of Matthew's version of the previous story in Luke's account.)

SAD

It's nearly summer solstice. The longest days of the year. Nevertheless, any single cloudy day has really been getting to me. It's daunting to think what the "seasonal affective disorder" is going to be like come January. I sure do hope I've got the "things" of moving (the boxes unpacked, the clutter in the garage, the pictures on the walls) finished well before the short days hit in September.

Keeping Up (or not)

Bonnie is one of the lovely women at church. She was widowed quite suddenly last fall. Ever since I've known her, she always seems such the optimist. She knows and believes and says that God is working everything out just right, and even when things hurt, she still cheerfully confesses that He is good and gracious, and her praise for Him abounds. On Sunday she was kindly and encouragingly reminding me that it doesn't matter if I feel overwhelmed, because we are in God's care, and it will all work out, and what's necessary will be done (because if it doesn't get done it wasn't really necessary after all).

And then today I spent hours on errands, including an exploratory trip to the west, which ended at my friend's store, after five other stops. And a trip to fetch milk. And catching up on laundry and bread-baking after vacation. And dinner. And Paul and I tried to figure out some things about registering for classes for his freshman year for college next August. And the little car's brakes failed, so we had to get it in to the mechanic and are now waiting on the verdict. (I hate deciding whether a car is getting too old and worn to fix again!)

I kept thinking throughout the day of all the necessary things that weren't getting done. And how I just keep getting more and more behind. I wish I could believe in my gut what my intellect consents to: that Bonnie is right and that God does know what He's doing. I just wish I didn't chafe against it and argue over it so often.

Modesty

1. I normally dress fairly conservatively. Even when the heat calls for shorts and tank tops (or even spaghetti straps), my clothes tend to be frumpy and modest compared to most of what you see out there in the stores and on the streets.

2. I don't like other people undermining what I teach my kids. If something is good and right to do, it's good and right -- not relativistic. In other words, I don't buy into the "it's good for me, but you have your own right and wrong."

3. During the past week, we were at a resort for a grand ol' family reunion with wonderful wonderful people. Also at the resort was a group of Amish folks. They were fun to visit with and chat with around the campfire. The kids were sweet and cute, and the parents enjoyable and friendly.

Thus #4, the dilemma. My kids love the swimming pool. I would put on my swim suit to go to the pool or beach with them. It's not a bikini. It's not particularly revealing as swimsuits go, and actually rather modest. But it's still a swimsuit, with naked arms and near-naked shoulders and most of my thighs exposed. And I felt like I was undermining the Amish moms simply to have a swimsuit. Even though I was more covered than most of the other females at the pool, I could just imagine the Amish women trying to explain to their munchkins why they wear the clothes they do and why they don't run around with that much skin exposed. It was weird feeling like The Bad Influence, while wanting to minimize the Bad Influence I was being, yet without avoiding the pool altogether.

Birkenstocks

Last time I bought shoes, I discovered that Birkenstock makes a high-arch variety. There's not much choice in type of sandal: just the Arizona and the Florida styles. The store where I shopped had the shoes available in only one color. The high-arch sandals are a little more expensive than regular Birkenstocks. The salesman told me that most people don't need (and shouldn't get) the ultra-high arches. I did anyway.

And now I have happy feet. Due to a very wet incident in the backyard with a hose recently, I ended up wearing a pair of old Birkenstocks for a day while my current pair dried. The old ones seem so very flat in comparison. And although my feet were not pained to be wearing them, I could definitely tell the difference in comfort level.

So for those of you who are Birkie-lovers in an attempt to avoid buying orthotic devices -- as opposed to y'all who love your Birkenstocks just because they're so darn comfortable -- you might want to investigate the "high arch footbed" which the company says is their "highest, most aggressive arch support."

Height

I was looking at the 150th-anniversary book of my home congregation. My brother, my sister, my uncle, and I were ALL smack-dab in the center of the back row in our confirmation pictures. My grandpa was the tall one in the pictures of the building committee for the congregation. My grandma was one of the tallest ones in the pictures of the ladies' groups. I guess there's no denying that there's some genes at work there! (Of course, Dad's side of the family ain't exactly short either!)

On top of that, my husband noticed something today. We're doing some time-consuming eagle-watching. (Eaglets are ready to make their first flights in the next day or so.) My uncle and I were both squatting in the exact same position -- the same position, incidentally, in which Philip squats (not sits!) on his chair when he uses the computer. Genes at work there too?

Left toTheir Own Devices

Family reunion. The grown-up cousins enjoying each other's company. The little cousins and second-cousins off playing and having a blast. Lots of games. Lots of talking. LOTS of laughing. Not as much "parenting" going on as normal.

So after lunch, the question is, "Mom, can I go swimming now?"

"Sooooo, when was the last time you brushed your teeth?" (Mothers will understand that that was a HINT and not a genuine question.)

"After breakfast."

For some reason, although I don't know what, I felt the needed to check on the veracity of this statement. So with a little bit of facetiousness, I asked, "After breakfast which day?"

"Yesterday."

AAAAAARRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHHH!

After my eyes about popped out, I suggested that maybe, just maybe, she miiiight want to brush her teeth BEFORE going swimming.


And then my sister-in-law tells me that a cousin was reeeeeal helpful in this regard. Out in the lake, playing around the "Maypole," Tim tells the group of girls that they need to remember to brush their teeth (even if the parents aren't micro-managing them) because, if they don't, their teeth will get this fuzzy, soft feeling from all that plaque and nastiness. Girls, being girls, decided that maybe, just maybe, FUZZY teeth would feel kinda cool. Maybe they shouldn't brush so they can get that velvety feel on their teeth.

And then parents come along and interfere with their experiment. Harrrumph!

Psalm 78:34

When He slew them,
then they sought Him.
And they returned and sought earnestly for God.
Then they remembered that God was their Rock,
and the Most High God their Redeemer.

Psalm 78 is long. Seventy-two verses long. More than two whole pages in my Bible. Usually when we get to Psalm 78 in daily prayers, I end up reading a portion, or skimming through it pretty quickly. I'm bad. My attention is too short. It's easier for me to pray those 8-verse psalms or even those 16-verse psalms. But two whole long pages? My mind wanders.

This past Sunday, though, we were unable to attend church. I had no laundry to do. No dishes to do. I had time to say my prayers without rushing through a very long psalm. The psalm goes through the things God did for Israel, and how they rejected them. But He was faithful and worked wonders for them. And they rejected Him. So He became angry, but still He was merciful and rescued them. And after a while they spit in His face yet again. This is basically the way life worked through all the history of the children of Israel. And individual Christians can identify with that altogether too well.

But then we get halfway through this recitation of the cycling between unbelief and dependence upon Him and then unbelief again, and Asaph points out very very bluntly, "When He slew them, then they sought Him." It's almost like we cannot seek Him when things are going well. We should! But we tend not to. Thus the need for the curse of the fall, that we struggle with hard work and difficulty in raising kids and coping with earthquakes and floods. Thus God had to give over the Israelites to their sinful desires (for just one little example, to be like the other nations surrounding them) so that they would learn experientially exactly what their desires would garner them.

Pastor talks about the theology of the cross. Luther writes about the theology of the cross. The theology of the cross is obvious through much of Paul's writings. But this one verse really seems to express it in a nutshell: we have no use for Him until He slays us, and then we remember our Rock and our Redeemer.

I've got the quote in at least three different books, but I have access to none of them this week -- the quote from Luther about God's killing to make alive, God's bringing through hell to give heaven, God's bringing us low to raise us up. Yup, that quote is the extended version of these two verses in Psalm 78. I wish I could include the quote; I should probably memorize it. Somewhere in between laundry loads....

Palmolive

My finger hurts. (Waaah waaaah waaaah.)
For a few years I was struggling with a rash on my right hand that hurt and would get so bad that it would bleed. In the last few months I got it under control. I wasn't sure whether it was the Burt's Bees lotion or the Melaleuca Renew lotion or the Palmolive dish soap or the escape from fungus-house. But doing dishes twice (TWICE... only twice!) away on vacation, with soap that's not Palmolive (and what we have here isn't even Dawn!) and the pain is back, the itch is back, the welts are back.

I think the guys are doing the dishes for the rest of this week.
I think I'm going to be freely using my bottle of Renew.
And I think Palmolive just gained one very loyal customer.

Psalm 73

Asaph is having a hard time with the way it seems life plays out. The unbelievers prosper. They have wealth. They have comfort. They oppress the Christians. They sass God. It is just plain useless to be a Christian.

Then Asaph admits that if he were to say such things, it would be untrue and it would scandalize God's children. But he just doesn't get it! He doesn't see how it can NOT be true. Then he goes into the sanctuary of God and figures it out; he sees what will be the end of the wicked.

And that is how Asaph's heart was grieved and how his mind was vexed -- his seeing with his eyeballs (and his senses and his logic) what was going on with the unbelievers and the righteous.

I was foolish and ignorant;
I was like a beast before You.
NEVERTHELESS I am continually with You,
You hold me by my right hand;
You will guide me with Your counsel;
and afterward receive me to glory.

Whom have I in heaven but You?
And there is none on earth I desire but You.
My heart and my flesh fail,
but God is the strength of my heart
and my portion forever.



Sometimes it can be comforting to see that those great saints of the past were as lousy sinners as I. If they can be as unbelieving as Asaph (in other words, if I am as unbelieving and chafing as Asaph was being), we still see that God is faithful to us, turns us around, hangs onto us, and gives us Himself who/which is our only real desire.

God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever!

Tornado Sirens

This sound filled the air. "What is that?" About the time I began to suspect it was a tornado warning, Paul walked in the door, coming home from work, saying that Mark Belling was interrupted on the radio to announce tornadoes.

I CANNOT SEE THE HORIZON HERE.

This is driving me nuts. There's bad weather, and I have to rely on somebody setting off the sirens? And how do I know if the officials are crying wolf or if there's really danger? I cannot see the full sky now that I live in town!

Seventeen years ago I remember worrying, as spring and "weather" arrived, that there were no tornado sirens out in the country to warn me of dangerous weather. And today I worry that, even though there are sirens, I cannot see the sky and depend on my own two eyes and knowledge of the clouds and weather patterns.

Monday through Friday

Two months ago, Pastor Petersen wrote about how it is good to be a pastor, how it's a good job with many blessings. Gary and I had been talking about that topic while he was applying and interviewing for jobs. And then along came Pr P, affirming all that we recognized was just good about the daily life of a pastor and a pastor's family.

But it was not to be for us. Not anymore.
And it's hard to adjust.

And I know now why so many homeschool moms say that they deeply appreciate that their husbands give them the gift of homeschooling the children. I've heard moms say how glorious it is that they have control of the day, when the kids get up, when mealtime is, whether they ditch the books to go on a fieldtrip, whether they set aside spelling to read another four chapters of history, whether they take the opportunity of good weather to go for a walk or dig in the garden or play at the beach while saving the bookwork for Saturday when it's going to be rainy. That freedom of schedule is an awesome thing to revel in!

I used to know it was a good thing. But I didn't appreciate it as much when Gary had it too, when he could determine whether to mow the grass or make shut-in calls, when he could go on a fieldtrip with us if we could help in the evening with putting the newsletter together, or whatever. But now that he doesn't have that freedom and is tied to his cubicle, it makes me feel sooo thoroughly indulged that I still have that freedom. I feel kinda guilty for having so much when he's sacrificing so much.

Nutrition-Nazi

There's a problem that comes from learning about nutrition and healthy eating. And there's a bigger problem that comes from actually eating well and seeing what a good effect it has on you.

When you're too tired,
or short of money,
or bummed out,
or short on time,
what do you cook, anyhow?

When it seems like making "real food" is beyond your capabilities, and when you feel like you can't eat out or buy insta-food from the grocery store (because you know you'll feel like crud after you eat it), then there's almost nothing left to eat.

No wonder we've been eating so many fried eggs on ww toast recently! Or home-made granola for supper. Or hamburgers. Lots of hamburgers too.