Wit

A movie about dying of cancer. A professor who is alone, no family, no friends. She agrees to aggressive treatment, for the sake of research, with only a small hope for recovery. An exacting professor who teaches John Donne's poetry. A woman who has little to hang onto other than "Death, Be Not Proud" and her own toughness.

A woman who eventually must face the prospect of her own death. A woman whose only comfort is the gospel (if you can call it that) found in The Runaway Bunny.

So very different from Stephen's death.  A man surrounded by family, friends, and pastors.  A room filled with hymns, prayers, more hymns, liturgy, psalms, and a few more hymns.  An image on the wall of Jesus dying on the cross to bear the wages of Steve's sins.  A statue of St Michael defeating the dragon-of-old.

Unlike the tough professor in Wit, Pastor Wiest knew long before that he was weak.  But His Jesus is strong.  As he became weaker at the end, he was given more and more and more of Jesus' word of forgiveness and mercy.  "For when I am weak, then am I strong."

Library Sorting

When Lora was eliminating Stuff from her house before moving overseas, she talked about her books, and how wrenching it is to get rid of books.  So many of us look at bookshelves to get an idea of WHO somebody is. Without our books to identify us, people can't get to know us by perusing our bookshelves.

I'm sorting through Pastor's books, making sure they're properly grouped and arranged after his study was moved into a new room.  On the one hand, it's fascinating.  Oh oh oh -- so many books just begging to be borrowed!  On the other hand, the work feels like trespassing, as if I'm butting into somebody's brain.

Of course, as Katie pointed out, her bookshelves don't necessarily reveal things about her; there are other people in her home.  And yet, "Goodnight Moon" does reveal something about who Katie is, even if the book is not her top choice in literature for her own personal reading.   Same for Pastor: he has books on his shelves about cults and heresy and other errors, alongside the books that refute error and books that are just fabuloso all on their own. 



Paid job;
resting my body while sorting at church;
resting my body while doing schoolwork with Mag;
resting my body while goofing off on the computer;
means
not spending as much time cleaning, cooking, blogging, or gardening as I think I "should." So many many chores that are screaming for attention, and I keep scolding myself into trrrrying to lollygag and watch TV and read more.  Healing takes time.

Joy, Suffering, and Philippians 1

In Sunday's epistle (3-yr series) Paul was comforting the saints in Philippi with assurances that his imprisonment was for the sake of the Gospel.   

In my chains and in the defense and confirmation of the gospel, you all are partakers with me of grace.

I want you to know, brethren, that the things which happened to me have actually turned out for the furtherance of the gospel, so that it has become evident to the whole palace guard, and to all the rest, that my chains are in Christ; and most of the brethren in the Lord, having become confident by my chains, are much more bold to speak the word without fear.

Yes, Paul was acting Christlike, to suffer for preaching the forgiveness of sins to those who are not worthy of it.

Yes, Paul was an example to the other Christians, so that they were emboldened.

But also, he was writing to the church at Philippi.  You remember who was a member of that congregation?  The Philippian jailer.  The guy who'd listened to Paul and Silas singing hymns half the night.  The guy on duty during the earthquake when the Lord opened the prison doors. The guy who was going to kill himself, until Paul stopped him.  The guy whose whole family was baptized, who welcomed the apostle into their home and treated his wounds and fed these missionaries.  The guy who rejoiced (Acts 16:34) in the Gospel.

You want an idea of why Paul could say that his chains are for the furtherance of the Gospel?  And that in his chains, they partake with him of grace?  And why that resonated with the folks at the church in Philippi?  Because they knew, intellectually, emotionally, experientially.  They had lived it.  They knew this fellow who worked at the jail.  They knew his family.  They worshiped with him.  They cared about him.  And this family heard the good news of Jesus' forgiveness because Paul had been unjustly accused, beaten, and imprisoned.  Not fun or comfortable for Paul.  But cause for rejoicing nonetheless, because there is greater joy in heaven (and in the church militant too) over one sinner who repents. 

And there it was again, in Rome: Paul's arrest being a good thing.  (So weird.  An unfair arrest being good?!)  But if anybody would "get it," it'd be the folks at the Philippian church.
 

A Single Red Branch

Winter's coming. 

(Shhhh.  Did I really say that?  Right out loud?  [shudder]  I should have my mouth washed out with soap.)

Leaves are changing color. 

This year, more than other years, I'm noticing how one branch's leaves will turn red or orange, while the rest of the tree's leaves are still green.  It's so patchy.  And it's not just one or two trees; many are showing the same pattern.  It seems odd.

Then I think of people's hair.  How my gray hairs all come from the same small patch on my head.  How a man's beard will change with one stripe graying before the rest.  How some people will turn gray at their temples first.

Maybe those trees are more like us than I thought.

Roots and Stability

I like to know what to expect.

I don't like not-knowing --  not-knowing about the economy or safety or politics/military action.  It makes it hard to plan for the future.  It leaves a person unsettled.  We're trying to think about our will right now, and whether to set up a trust for Maggie.  But who knows what to expect these days?  Health care and taxes and who'll be running the country and whether religious persecution will come to our shores -- it's all up for grabs.  No certainty.  Questions about stability.

In our Bible story recently (Numbers 6), we heard about the Israelites in the wilderness of Sinai.  They'd left Egypt a little more than a year earlier.  For a change of pace, we hear that they obeyed the Lord.  When the pillar of cloud/fire moved, they were to move.  And they did.  When the pillar of cloud/fire stayed put, the Israelites were supposed to stay in the same spot.  And they did. 


But what about their expectations?  Any one evening, at the end of the day, when the cloud of the Lord's presence settled, the people pitched their tents and started supper ... with no clue whatsoever as to whether they were going to be packing up again the next morning or in a week.  Or in a month.  Or in a year.  They lived day-to-day with no knowledge of the morrow.  No certainty.  No stability ...

except ...

"the Lord is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer."

Crucifix Shopping

Shhh: don't tell the computer or Big Brother.  I have figured out how to get NICE ads in the sidebar of my computer.  If you go shopping for a few hours on eShakti, they start sending you gazillions of ads.  If you keep clicking on them, pretty soon the ads go away that want you to [ahem] meet singles or buy Bounty or subscribe to some liberal magazine.

Tonight I spent a couple of hours looking for crucifixes.  On ebay.  On Amazon.  On various Catholic church-supply sites.  And now I have crosses and pretty dresses popping up as ads.  Nice!

While shopping, I discovered how

few people knew what a crucifix is.  There were plenty of empty crosses listed under "crucifix."  There were also the kind that some of our kids received as baptism gifts from the congregation -- the kind with a kneeling child in the center.

"I don't like that cross, Mom!  I don't want to die on a cross!"

Uh, yeah, that was when those crosses went away.

I also discovered somebody's crafts: turquoise and yellow beads, strung together like we used to make at summer camp to be key chains or lanyards.  In a cross-shape.  Turquoise and yellow.  Ugly as could be.  Mixed in with the crucifixes.  Good grief.  It takes a lot of sifting to shop for something online.



PS: If you need an introductory coupon for eShakti (which also offers free customizing on first-time orders), let me know.  You'll get $25-35 off your first try, and I'll get a $10 referral coupon.

Arachnoiditis

When a brain aneurysm ruptures, blood mixes with the cerebrospinal fluid.  Your brain doesn't like that.  Neither do your nerves.  That nice, clean fluid is supposed to protect your nervous system, and blood pollutes it.  This can bring on arachnoiditis.

After my little aneurysm problem, I had debilitating pain in my lower back and my legs.  Once the doctors figured out the cause of my pain, they knew that the best solution was for the blood to be re-absorbed by the body so that it would be away from the nerves.  That meant my getting up to sit and even walk.  It also meant lots of pain meds to make it possible for me to sit or stand. 

Thinking about how arnica gel had helped so much in healing my bruises (where blood leaked and has to be re-absorbed) I asked my family to bring arnica to the hospital.  I can't say for sure that it helped.  But I sure felt better when I used it on the sore spots.  Of course, the improvement may have been caused by the doctors' treatments, or time, or a combination of many things. 

With some recent flare-ups, I'm trying arnica again.  I doubt it will help.  It doesn't seem reasonable to try, as pain now is residual nerve pain, and not pain from blood currently polluting my CSF.  But what would it hurt?

Is the Ancient Definition of Marriage Bigoted?

"Same-Sex Marriage and Interracial Marriage" was a recent topic on Issues Etc.  [Excuse me: why isn't anybody putting quote-marks around that word anymore?  A year or two ago, it was same-sex "marriage."]

Two points stuck out.  First -- never, in all the world's history, in any culture, was a same-sex union considered to be marriage.  Even in cultures that accepted homosexuality as just another option, nobody considered that relationship to be marriage.

Second -- what about the charge that those who oppose same-sex unions are just like the bigots who opposed interracial marriage?  The speaker pointed out that that kind of bigotry was never about the essence or definition of marriage.  It was always about racial "purity" and guarding whiteness.  It was about the hatred that wanted to prevent mixing races.  But the argument then was never about what marriage IS.  The arguments today are not about who can and can't get married (although some say that it is); the argument today is about what marriage is. 

Music Appreciation

Oh, the grand plans that homeschool moms come up with!  And how hard to execute all those lesson plans!

I was intrigued by the program used by our congregation's school.  The Brummitt-Taylor Music Listening Program includes 131 music selections.  The concept reminds me of the Five-in-a-Row curriculum for little kids:  choose something good [be it kiddy-lit or a piece of classical music] and repeat it daily for a week.  I've been wanting to develop my own list of music to be used in a similar way:
just a few minutes a day
just listening -- no projects or study
repeated exposure

This is what I've come up with.  Our plan at this point is to use each piece for half a month, and not necessarily in the order listed here.  I'm including you-tube links, but there are multiple places to find the pieces, online or through purchased CD's.  We will not have the script offered with the B-T program, nor their comprehensive list, but I'm telling myself that familiarizing ourselves with some classical pieces is better than nothing.  At the rate of 2-3 pieces per month, I've got two years worth of plans here.

Rossini:  Barber of Seville -- Figaro's Aria

Britten:  Young Person's Guide to the Orchestra (2-minute intro)
(full version)

Vivaldi: Four Seasons -- Summer
Vivaldi: Four Seasons -- Autumn
Vivaldi: Four Seasons -- Winter
Vivaldi: Four Seasons -- Spring

Bach:  Air on the G string

Handel:  Xerxes -- Largo

Purcell:  Trumpet Tune and Air


Charpentier: Prelude in D-major to "Te Deum"

Handel:  Water Music Suite #1 -- Air
Handel:  Water Music Suite #2 -- Hornpipe 

Chopin:  Minute Waltz

Rossini:  William Tell Overture -- Finale

Mozart:  Eine Kleine Nachtmusik, Serenade #13 for strings in G minor

Bizet:  Carmen -- Overture

Bach:  Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring

Clarke: Trumpet Voluntary

Copland: Rodeo -- Hoe-down (beef commercial)

Bach: Toccata and Fugue in D minor

Tchaikovsky:  1812 Overture

Beethoven:  Fur Elise

Sousa: Stars and Stripes Forever

Liszt: Hungarian Rhapsody
Tom & Jerry's Hungarian Rhapsody

Bach:  Wake, Awake

Mendelssohn: Wedding March
Wagner: Wedding Chorus  (Here Comes the Bride)

Wagner: Ride of the Valkyries

Gershwin: I Got Rhythm

Mouret: Fanfare Rondeau  (Masterpiece Theater theme)

Brahms: Lullaby
 
Levine:  Fanfare for the Common Man

Grieg:  Peer Gynt (from Mountain King)
Grieg:  In the Hall of the Mountain King  (another version)

Offenbach: Can Can Music

Bach:  Bouree from Lute Suite -- BWV 996

Debussy:  Claire de lune

Schumann:  The Merry Peasant

Delibes:  Sylvia -- Pizzicato

Shastakovich:  The Second Waltz

Albinoni:  Adagio in G minor



Tchaikovsky: Swan Lake Ballet
Tchaikovsky: The Nutcracker Suite -- March
Tchaikovsky: The Nutcracker Suite -- Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy
Tchaikovsky: The Nutcracker Suite -- Waltz of the Flowers

Handel:  The Messiah -- For Unto Us a Child Is Born
Handel:  The Messiah -- He Shall Feed His Flock
Handel:  The Messiah -- He Was Despised
Handel:  The Messiah -- I Know That My Redeemer Liveth
Handel:  The Messiah -- Hallelujah Chorus

Vivaldi: Double Concerto in D minor for two oboes

Mozart: Symphony #40 in G minor K 550

Mozart:  Piano Concerto 21 -- Andante

Pachelbel: Canon in D Major

Mozart: The Magic Flute -- The Bird-Catcher

Beethoven:  9th Symphony, 4th movement

Prokofiev:  Peter and the Wolf March

Ravel:  Bolero

Mendelssohn: Song Without Words

Dvorak:  New World Symphony, part 1, 4th movement
Khan Academy on Dvorak's New World Symphony

Beethoven:  5th Symphony
Khan Academy on Beethoven's 5th Symphony, part 1
Khan Academy on Beethoven's 5th Symphony, part 2
Khan Academy on Beethoven's 5th Symphony, part 3


Haydn: Symphony no. 6, movement 1
Listening guide to Haydn's Symphony #6

Stravinsky: Firebird Suite Finale
Khan Academy on the Firebird Suite




Glenda steered me in the direction of Harmony Fine Arts that could be used to supplement and deepen the simplistic list I've gathered.
Cheryl offered some ideas, as well as pointing out "52 Most Important Classical Works of All Time" which may expand your own list of pieces to include as you learn more about music.

Women Soldiers?

Today's Bible story in chapel was the beginning of Numbers, where God told Moses to take a census of the Israelites.  Who was to be counted?  Not everyone.  Only the males over age 20. 

Why?  They would be the soldiers, the army.

Pastor asked the kids, "But why only the males?" 

After a few answers that were partly true, but not quite to the point, Pastor led them to the key point.  "It's about Jesus, folks."

Men protect and guard women.  The husband lays down his life for his bride.  Real men sacrifice for their families instead of thinking first of themselves.  This is what Jesus did for His bride the Church.  And pointing to this truth about Jesus, God instructed that the Israelite army would be the men.

Mind-Boggling Costs

Maybe I should quit reading this book. 

Once upon a time, the insurance salesman was pressing upon Gary and me the importance of planning ahead for the children's college educations.  We had to put money aside.  College is expensive and getting more expensive.  We have to prepare when they're little. 

We told him that our financial situation didn't allow it.  He still pushed.  We said we could put money aside for their college, but that would mean not feeding the munchkins.  Don't feed a kid for 16-18 years, and ... you know what?  You wouldn't have to pay for college because the kid would've starved to death by then.

Seriously, some financial planners don't seem to understand the financial situation some regular folks are in.  (Or maybe we weren't regular folks.  Maybe we were really very poor ... and merely passing as middle-class.)

So this book I'm reading talks about making a life-plan for your special-needs child.  The author makes some great points.  But some parts leave me scratching my head.  For example: job-coaching.  If your kid needs a job-coach, it may cost $1000-2000 for an evaluation and initial help.  Then it would probably run you $50/hour.  And the job-coach should be alongside the person the whole time he's working for the first several weeks, then weaning off contact slowly over the course of a few months.  Do the math:  we're talking about an $8000-10,000 pricetag for someone to help a young adult learn job skills at a half-time fast-food job that pays minimum wage.  Hey, I think it would be great to provide that opportunity.  But who's got that kind of money?

Similarly, the author talks about the importance of living independently.  (Now, his version of "living independently" might be in a group-home, or in an apartment with a full-time care-giver.  It's just important, says he, that the special-needs person NOT live with parents.)  Here too, he makes some good points -- particularly when he says that a child may outlive the parents and will then have to face independent living during a time of mourning and other upheaval.  But the price-tag here too is eye-popping.  He's talking about $35,000--50,000 per year for room and board.  For one person! 

Several chapters into the book, I cut to the last page.  In the conclusion, the author admits, "It is not easy, and for some, limited by economic circumstances and insolvable constraints, their hopes and dreams for their child may not be possible." 

Exactly.

So do I keep reading, in hopes of finding a few helpful tidbits? 



Also, I had to laugh at the section where he's talking about how to choose a good financial planner. It's really important that we find someone who can give a good estimate of investment returns because, oh, y'know, regular folks like us can't figure that out very well. 

Far as I can see, over the last 10-15 years, no financial planner has done a very good job finding high-returning investments.  Loads of people were assured returns of 10%, or even 15-25% annually, and are now getting returns of 1-4%. 



So if we can't provide for ourselves, much less continue to provide for our children after our deaths, I guess maybe, just maybe, we'll be reduced [gasp!] to praying, "Give us this day our daily bread."  In our home, we haven't gone hungry yet, and objectively there's no way we should still be afloat financially.  God has provided.  Remember when the Lord Jesus took those five loaves and two fish and fed thousands?  Yeah, He still does stuff like that.

Toward the End of Summer

Now, THIS is the way to do schoolwork!  (Although her chair was in the shade, mine was in the sunshine.)

But, ... but, ... but ... hostas and sedum aren't supposed to be blooming anywhere close to the same time.  They should bloom two months apart.  This is SOME weird weather.

PS: In case anyone cares [Cheryl] this is blogpost #4000. 

Defined by Your Job?

A job is a significant part of our lives.  It is where we spend most of our waking hours.  It is a place where we meet people and form cooperative relationships.  It is a place where we can be part of a team, working with others for a common purpose.  It is a place where we form friendships and social networks.  It is an opportunity, hopefully, to identify with a respected organization and its contribution to the community.  Many of us define ourselves by our careers.  A job or career is a source of self-esteem, extrinsic and intrinsic reward, and independence.  A job is the most visible and definitive way one take his or her rightful place in the community.

The Complete Guide to Creating 

a Special Needs Life Plan, p 109

by Hal Wright

So much of this assertion is true.

And yet, I find it disturbing that JOB (not family and not what happens at church) is taken for granted as what defines us.  No wonder stay-at-home moms have "no worth" in the eyes of American society.

Dementia or Delirium?

Delirium -- similar to dementia, but worse, and starts in a day or so instead of worsening over the course of weeks, months, or years.  May include hallucinations, agitation, severe confusion, dizziness and falling.

So come to find out, urinary tract infections are often misdiagnosed in the elderly.  Often the typical UTI symptoms are non-existent in the elderly or those with Parkinsons.  It's important for family and care-givers to recognize that "sudden-onset dementia" may be a sign of UTI.  Of course, it may be something else, and it's always important to figure out.  But UTI is one of those things that doesn't quickly come to mind as an explanation for Grandpa's sudden and severe confusion.

Pictures of the Grown-Ups Around Here

Philip stopped by the Celestial Seasonings Plant on his vacation.

Rachel has an addiction fondness for one of their teas, a tea that is seasonally available.  In other words, she has to hoard all she can find in November and December, to last her through the year.  Philip and Katie and I help her hunt, to add to her hoard.

This tea is available year round at the factory.  Philip bought a lot.  Six cases.  Thirty-six boxes.  Two teabags per day for a full year.

Philip knew there would be a surprised and happy face, so he asked me to make sure to bring the camera to capture The Look. (Most of the photos didn't turn out.  Too much blurring from the jumping up and down and squealing.)

I'm now at 18 weeks of hair growth.  My hair is long enough now to usually look like
a) a 7-yr-old boy's "rooster look" or
b) a mohawk
Therefore, it is usually hidden.

Today it curled fairly nicely.  Except for those blasted  "Sally Brown flips" over my ears.  If my hair would do this most of the time, I think I could give up on the babushkas and hats.

A friend was taking pictures of other people at church, when Gary butted in and heckled her to snap one of him. Man, it turned out nice!

Matthias

Sitting up and crawling.
And loving those entertaining sisters.

The Child's Tale

Plumbing leak in the basement. 
Very much like July's water problem which turned out to be a plugged line.  Probably something flushed that ought not to have been flushed.

After calling the plumber, Maggie and I were discussing the situation in front of the grandkids.  Alia (age 5) began asking questions.  "Would this happen if piggies were in the toilet?"

"Excuse me?  Pigs in the toilet?"

"Toy piggies, Nanna."

"How would toy pigs get into the toilet?"

"Well, one day I was playing in the bathroom.  And I was tossing the toy pigs around.  They flew through the air and landed in the toilet."

"Alia, if anything EVER goes in the toilet, it would be very helpful if you told us, so we could get it out and not pay the plumber a LOT of money to fix it."

"But I had to go potty.  So I did."

"Well, that's good.  But do you know how important it is that toys NOT go down the toilet?  It is SO important that I would stick my hand into the toilet (even with poop or pee in the toilet) to get the toys out.  Because it's very very hard to clean up the mess from a plugged toilet.  And it's very expensive." 

"But I forgot and I flushed."

"I understand.  You didn't know that we shouldn't flush toys.  But now you do."

So I thought that was the explanation for our plumbing problems.  However ...

a little later,
still before the plumber had arrived,

Alia began to explain the mouse problem.

She had noticed the holes in the wall where the plumbing pipes came through.  Apparently, they seemed too big to her, or she had never noticed such a thing before.  Whatever the reason, she was convinced these were mouse holes. 

"Alia, we don't have mice inside.  Those aren't mouse holes.  Those are holes for the pipes."

"No, they are mouse holes.  You do have mice.  I see them sometimes.  When I open the cupboard doors, sometimes there are mice in there, looking back at me.  YOU don't see it, Nanna.  This always happens when you're not there." 

[Suspicious story, eh?]

"Alia, we don't have mice inside."

"Nanna!  They are in the pipes!  That's why you don't see them."

"IN the pipes?  Alia, mice cannot get into the pipes."

[sigh] "Yes, they can, Nanna.  I know these things!  When I see the mice in the cupboards, I look at their faces.  There are mice whose faces are hungry-looking.  And there are mice whose faces are thirsty-looking.  And I can tell the difference!  The ones that are thirsty-looking are the ones who get into your pipes.  They want a drink of water, Nanna.  And then they chew holes in your pipes.  That's why there's water leaking out of your pipes."



Riiiiight.
Too bad I know nothing about mice.

I managed not to laugh at the child.
But as I was telling her mother the story?  Yeah, we both had a good laugh.

Thing is, after the mice story, I don't put much stock in the pigs-in-the-toilet story either.

And from what the plumber said, the pigs-in-the-toilet story sounds pretty unlikely too.  Pigs-in-the-toilet would be a comparatively simple, easy, cheap repair.

Recent Events

Desiring to be free of care&upkeep on the deck, we got a bid on a patio instead.  Even with Gary doing all the work to dismantle the deck, the bid was eye-popping.  So it's time to wash and seal the deck.  The weather has not been cooperating: too much rain.  Because we must utilize the days when there's no rain forecast, Gary finally consented to allow me to do some of the painting.  He is building the deck's fence on his own, though.

Because both our workplaces were closed for Labor Day, we took the opportunity to visit our parents.  Drove there one day, visited his dad, drove to my mom's, visited there, and returned the next day.

This week was also our chance to use free tickets to see a Cardinals/Brewers game.  I couldn't deny my Cardinal fan the chance to attend the game.  We only stayed for part of it, though.  I am pokey.  And Gary didn't want me getting run over as people exited at the end of the game.

Choir started again this week.

We've been trying to reestablish school routine for Maggie, including her return to Curves.  (I'm not ready for that yet.) 

Abundant rains have meant more lawn-mowing than usual.  Gary has not allowed me to help with that yet.

This weekend we are attending an "ends-in-zero" birthday party of a dear friend.  While in that part of town, we will finally (after 3 months!) get the chance to see Rachel and Matt's apartment.

Our plumbing/septic failed.  Plumber was here and could not fix the problem.  We can take water in, but it has to be carried out of the house.  No toilets.  The plumber said we wouldn't have to go to a hotel -- implying that any sane person would.  I hope this can be repaired Monday ... and not Friday or the following week or whatever.  When the repairs are done, that's when we get to clean up sewer-water and sanitize toys and floors and walls and bathtub and shower.  Ick.

And next week I extend my "mini-days" (4-hour shifts) at work to "shortened days" (that is, 7-hour shifts).

I was supposed to talk to the library's volunteer coordinator next week about setting up some opportunities for Maggie.  Lack of plumbing, though, puts volunteering-arrangements on the back burner.  Top priority is being available to the repairmen.

I haven't baked bread in a couple of weeks.
I have done no house-cleaning.
The garden is sorely neglected.
So much happened this week that I'm trying hard now to do nothing.

Idols Are Bad

There it was again today -- somebody saying that pretty churches and statues are bad.  "You shall make no graven images."  Interesting timing, based on what I heard in chapel this morning.

Our Bible story was Exodus 32, the Israelites worshiping the golden calf.  Pastor was asking the kids questions about idols and false gods.  He explained that an idol shows something about God that isn't true.  In this story, it wasn't a golden calf that brought the Israelites out of Egypt and saved them from Pharaoh's armies.

But that little explanation, just a smidge of what he was telling the children, summed up so much for me.  I remember when my friend, Pastor Wiest, was accused by someone of worshiping idols.  Because he wore a crucifix! The person told Pr Wiest, "You aren't supposed to worship idols."  He responded, "But this isn't an idol.  This is the true God."  (Now, I suppose the person could've responded, "That is NOT the true God."  But obviously Pastor Wiest did not think that little piece of metal, on a chain around his neck, really was, in itself, God.  It was a representation of what God in His gracious love did to save us; it showed something true about God.)

An idol shows something about God that isn't true.  That's why it's bad to use a cross necklace simply as a good-luck charm.  That would also be why icons are idols for those who believe those saints merited God's favor because of their superb level of good works, but icons are not idols for those who see them as pictures of God's mercy to sinners.

Also, it really confuses me why a certain group of Christians call a crucifix an "idol" but are perfectly okay with empty crosses.  Wouldn't a cross be a graven image just as much as a crucifix?  Maybe it boils down to their thinking the crucifix shows something about God that isn't true.

Truly the Son of God

When Jesus called the storm, rescuing the disciples whose boat was overwhelmed (Matt 14), they responded, "Truly You are the Son of God."

Not long afterward (Matt 16), when Jesus asked them about the rumors of who He was, Peter said, "You are the Son of the living God."  This wasn't something Peter said on His own.  It was something the Lord revealed to him, as well as something the others said in the boat on that stormy night.

And it was the same thing said by the centurion (Matt 27) on that stormy Friday afternoon.