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.