If somebody ran a marathon on Saturday, it'd be goofy to try to go cut and haul firewood the next day. If somebody had been sick and feverish for a few days, nobody would expect them to pop up and dive into housework. Then why am I foolish enough to tax my brain to the uttermost, wear myself out, and expect myself to be able to think today? I keep thinking that brains are different from muscles, though. Maybe... no reasonably intelligent brain would expect an exhausted brain to be able to teach physics, or even figure out what to make for dinner. Ah, but maybe I've pinpointed the problem -- an exhausted brain may be incapable of analyzing the self-exhaustedness of itself?
I'm gonna go make pizza.
I bet I'll have a hard time figuring out how high I should set the temp on the oven.
Friday, October 19, 2007
Philip's Car
I was awakened this morning at 6:30 by the phone ringing. Philip was stranded and needed rescue.
When he was car-hunting, it seemed to me like he didn't have enough money to buy an okay car. When Gary and I were younger, drivable used cars could be had for $700-1500. It's not like that anymore. Well, he found a car that looked pretty decent for $2500. My thought was that, given the good shape of the body and the dependability of Toyotas, he was probably getting a good deal... well, as good a deal as one can expect if you're not going to spend $7000 on a used car. He spent money on new tires and new brakes, and was good to go.
For a month.
Then he needed a new engine.
Still... even with the new engine, we know that he's spent less than he might've, has a car with a "new" engine (only 80,000 miles on it), has lower insurance premiums because it's an older vehicle. The only thing we worried about was if there should be a drunk driver or other problem, and having the car totaled-out at a value which the insurance company would've priced too low. However, even that has an up-side. The car dealership said that our receipts showing a new engine and new tires could be used to prove a higher-than-Blue-Book value to the car, should there be an accident.
One week after getting the car back, one week after no longer shuffling cars between us to get everybody to work at the right time, and there was an unavoidable road hazard on his way to work. Ripped the exhaust system and catalytic converter from the undercarriage. So today we got to learn about tow-trucks and calling the police and stuff like that. There were really other things I would've preferred to do than learn those lessons.
When he was car-hunting, it seemed to me like he didn't have enough money to buy an okay car. When Gary and I were younger, drivable used cars could be had for $700-1500. It's not like that anymore. Well, he found a car that looked pretty decent for $2500. My thought was that, given the good shape of the body and the dependability of Toyotas, he was probably getting a good deal... well, as good a deal as one can expect if you're not going to spend $7000 on a used car. He spent money on new tires and new brakes, and was good to go.
For a month.
Then he needed a new engine.
Still... even with the new engine, we know that he's spent less than he might've, has a car with a "new" engine (only 80,000 miles on it), has lower insurance premiums because it's an older vehicle. The only thing we worried about was if there should be a drunk driver or other problem, and having the car totaled-out at a value which the insurance company would've priced too low. However, even that has an up-side. The car dealership said that our receipts showing a new engine and new tires could be used to prove a higher-than-Blue-Book value to the car, should there be an accident.
One week after getting the car back, one week after no longer shuffling cars between us to get everybody to work at the right time, and there was an unavoidable road hazard on his way to work. Ripped the exhaust system and catalytic converter from the undercarriage. So today we got to learn about tow-trucks and calling the police and stuff like that. There were really other things I would've preferred to do than learn those lessons.
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Musing on John 13:2-3
And supper being ended, the devil having already put it into the heart of Judas Iscariot, Simon's son, to betray Him, Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into His hands, and that He had come from God and was going to God, rose from supper and laid aside His garments, took a towel and girded Himself.
It's probably stupid to even attempt a blog-post. I've attempted to do 150 pages of editing theology in the last 24 hours (on only 4 hours sleep), so my brain is fried big-time. And here I am, musing....
Bible class this morning was on John 13. Pastor was talking about the Father having given all things into Jesus' hands. He talked about how Adam was given dominion over all things. But Adam used his authority and his dominion to take for himself what God had not given. Jesus, on the other hand, had all things from the Father, and did not use them for Himself. What motivated Him to die was "His great love for the Father and for me and other sinners."
Pastor was saying great stuff, but on little sleep and with brain-fry I wasn't picking it up very well. Besides, I was distracted. He keeps telling us that things in the Bible (true and historic though they be) are not there merely for historical information. So why is that business about Judas there, anyhow??
So when Pastor started talking about "all things," it made me wonder. The first Adam betrayed "all things" God had put into his hand and under his dominion. Throughout all of history, man continued to squander the good gifts of God. Here is Judas, betraying not only the almighty God [think on that for a moment, the almighty God being sold, but that's an aside], but betraying His love. And here is the true Man, the "Adam" who poured out Himself, even though He had "all things" temporal, as well as "all things" including communion with the Father. His version of power and authority is sacrificing Himself to be able to give us (part of "all things") back to the Father.
It's probably stupid to even attempt a blog-post. I've attempted to do 150 pages of editing theology in the last 24 hours (on only 4 hours sleep), so my brain is fried big-time. And here I am, musing....
Bible class this morning was on John 13. Pastor was talking about the Father having given all things into Jesus' hands. He talked about how Adam was given dominion over all things. But Adam used his authority and his dominion to take for himself what God had not given. Jesus, on the other hand, had all things from the Father, and did not use them for Himself. What motivated Him to die was "His great love for the Father and for me and other sinners."
Pastor was saying great stuff, but on little sleep and with brain-fry I wasn't picking it up very well. Besides, I was distracted. He keeps telling us that things in the Bible (true and historic though they be) are not there merely for historical information. So why is that business about Judas there, anyhow??
So when Pastor started talking about "all things," it made me wonder. The first Adam betrayed "all things" God had put into his hand and under his dominion. Throughout all of history, man continued to squander the good gifts of God. Here is Judas, betraying not only the almighty God [think on that for a moment, the almighty God being sold, but that's an aside], but betraying His love. And here is the true Man, the "Adam" who poured out Himself, even though He had "all things" temporal, as well as "all things" including communion with the Father. His version of power and authority is sacrificing Himself to be able to give us (part of "all things") back to the Father.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Thinking Like a Scanner
With the editing I'm doing right now, most of the articles have been previously published. So there's not as much stress on the brain to sort through commas and dangling modifiers and subordinate clauses. However, there are some amusing spots. Because some of the articles have been scanned into the computer, the computer didn't always translate the "picture" of the words on the page into the correct electronic bits.
There are easy mistakes. "Not" for "nor." "Or" in the place of "of." "Tlie" instead of "the." A couple of places it said "all then are" instead of "all men are."
But there was "come to teens with" which should've been "come to terms with."
"We are entitled to Hip blessings" instead of "His blessings."
So sometimes I have to think about how a scanner might "see" the letters in a word, particularly if there might be a stray spot on the paper, or a place where the ink wasn't fully laid down on the original page. The one that confused me was "one-tittle justification." I didn't know what "one-tittle justification" was. I figured I was just dumb, and it was some theological phrase I was unaware of. But then Pastor asked me what "one-tittle justification was." Hey! Not fair! He's supposed to know these theological terms! Huh? Maybe it's not a theological phrase? Hmmmm. Now what? Thinking like a scanner, though, I finally figured out it was "one-time justification." Suddenly, the whole sentence made sense. And I'm still laughin' over that one! (Although "Hip" blessings from God is worth a giggle too!)
There are easy mistakes. "Not" for "nor." "Or" in the place of "of." "Tlie" instead of "the." A couple of places it said "all then are" instead of "all men are."
But there was "come to teens with" which should've been "come to terms with."
"We are entitled to Hip blessings" instead of "His blessings."
So sometimes I have to think about how a scanner might "see" the letters in a word, particularly if there might be a stray spot on the paper, or a place where the ink wasn't fully laid down on the original page. The one that confused me was "one-tittle justification." I didn't know what "one-tittle justification" was. I figured I was just dumb, and it was some theological phrase I was unaware of. But then Pastor asked me what "one-tittle justification was." Hey! Not fair! He's supposed to know these theological terms! Huh? Maybe it's not a theological phrase? Hmmmm. Now what? Thinking like a scanner, though, I finally figured out it was "one-time justification." Suddenly, the whole sentence made sense. And I'm still laughin' over that one! (Although "Hip" blessings from God is worth a giggle too!)
Saturday, October 13, 2007
Bubbly, Bouncy Joy
I had been told that I wasn't going to be working on the second volume of CCA's Scaer book because I had my hands full of other projects. After a little moping last month over missing out on the fun, I resigned myself to reading the book when it's all finished and done and published. But because of pressing deadlines, on Thursday I got told that I get to look part of it over. Yeehaw! This weekend I had plans that pretty much got overridden for editing reasons, but oh, the articles are so great!!
Just in what I've looked at so far, there's one article on the ascension that's presented in a way that I hadn't previously thought of. There's an article on the problem with women's ordination, but without simply resorting to "the law says it's wrong, so we can't do it." There's an article on using masculine names for God. There's an article on the differences between the Protestants and the Lutherans, and how it's not "just about the Sacraments" but how the differences reveal what we think about God and who He is and what He has done. One article delves into what confirmation is and why we have it. I noticed one article is entitled "Preaching Sanctification" and that should prove intriguing, to be sure!
Now I should get off the computer, and grab my red pen and my dictionary again, and get back to my playtime. Oh boy oh boy oh boy oh boy!
Just in what I've looked at so far, there's one article on the ascension that's presented in a way that I hadn't previously thought of. There's an article on the problem with women's ordination, but without simply resorting to "the law says it's wrong, so we can't do it." There's an article on using masculine names for God. There's an article on the differences between the Protestants and the Lutherans, and how it's not "just about the Sacraments" but how the differences reveal what we think about God and who He is and what He has done. One article delves into what confirmation is and why we have it. I noticed one article is entitled "Preaching Sanctification" and that should prove intriguing, to be sure!
Now I should get off the computer, and grab my red pen and my dictionary again, and get back to my playtime. Oh boy oh boy oh boy oh boy!
Lay-Led Bible Class
If the pastor is the "man" and the congregation is the "bride," then IF there were to be a lay-led Bible class, would it matter whether the teacher was a man or a woman? Because laymen (both men and women) are to be receiving from the pastor, not usurping his place as teacher. Maybe the appearance of it makes a difference, though??
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Today's Stuff
Instead of John 13 this morning, we heard about Pastor's trip to Sweden. So we talked about the Church in a way far different from what we usually do in Thursday morning Bible class.
Doctor diagnosed my arm pain as bursitis and a rotator-cuff problem. Part of the treatment is to not reach or stretch with my left arm. Easier said than done. And how much sitting still with an ice pack can be squeezed into busy days?
Maggie had to skip her beloved swimming class today because of coming down with a cold.
At church last night, the second verse of the epistle struck me. "To the church of God which is at Corinth, to those who are sanctified in Christ Jesus, called saints...." Paul says the folks at Corinth are sanctified. Not "in the process of." Not "will be." But "are." The folks at CORINTH, the place which Pastor says always comforts him because, if the Corinthians are called saints, then surely his church can be called saints too. If this sentence in the very start of 1 Corinthians is for real, then maybe we LCMSers don't exactly use the word "sanctification" in accord with how the Bible uses it.
Doctor diagnosed my arm pain as bursitis and a rotator-cuff problem. Part of the treatment is to not reach or stretch with my left arm. Easier said than done. And how much sitting still with an ice pack can be squeezed into busy days?
Maggie had to skip her beloved swimming class today because of coming down with a cold.
At church last night, the second verse of the epistle struck me. "To the church of God which is at Corinth, to those who are sanctified in Christ Jesus, called saints...." Paul says the folks at Corinth are sanctified. Not "in the process of." Not "will be." But "are." The folks at CORINTH, the place which Pastor says always comforts him because, if the Corinthians are called saints, then surely his church can be called saints too. If this sentence in the very start of 1 Corinthians is for real, then maybe we LCMSers don't exactly use the word "sanctification" in accord with how the Bible uses it.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Routine
Gary's desktop computer died. He's feeling stuck.
As we discussed this, we began to realize the problem is the change in routine.
I spent the whole month of September scolding myself for being distraught over the water and fuel problems. I kept trying to get a grip on myself, tell myself how good I have it, quit doing the pity-party routine, and just DO what needed to be done (like boiling water next door in stockpots and carrying it over here).
But I just couldn't seem to do it.
When we finally had both fuel and water, then I finally was capable of cleaning the house. Now, WHY couldn't I vacuum the floor or dust the horizontal surfaces just because there was no water or propane? That's just stupid. But I couldn't. WHY did I have such a hard time doing algebra or physics with kids? Those things certainly aren't dependent on fuel and water. And then there were all the self-scoldings over how I have electricity and so many more conveniences than did women on the prairie 150 years ago. How wussy am I, anyhow?
But it's the brain-strain in doing things in a way that is not routine. So much of our life is on auto-pilot. For example, normally we don't put hardly any thought into brushing our teeth. But if we have to think of taking a walk next-door to the place where there's plumbing, or going outdoors to spit on the lawn and taking a cup of water out there with you, it just takes thinking about it. Auto-pilot isn't good enough. Another example is doing laundry. If you can't just turn a knob and push a button, you have to think about it. You have to figure out if you can wash this load in cold, or you have to boil water for it. And then you have to figure out if you're going to carry that heavy load of water, or find a kid to do it for you, or get out the wagon to bear the weight. None of that is hard stuff. But you have to figure it out. Dozens (or hundreds or thousands) of those tiny little decisions each day just wear out your brain.
I'm even wondering at the moment how much this change of routine complicates other life changes. Having a baby, or sending children off to school for the first time (be they kindergarteners or 18-yr-olds who were homeschooled all along previously), or having hubby retire and come home, or starting a job. Some of those things are joyous life changes, some have grief and loss mixed in. But they all entail a change of routine. Even widowhood, which has copious amounts of grief in one's loss, as well as not having your sweetheart there to see you through it (like he'd seen you through all your previous heartaches), is further complicated by all the little decisions about the change in daily routine.
Right now, I'm ready for some living life on auto-pilot. And if Gary decides to get another computer, that will put one small section of his life back on auto-pilot too.
As we discussed this, we began to realize the problem is the change in routine.
I spent the whole month of September scolding myself for being distraught over the water and fuel problems. I kept trying to get a grip on myself, tell myself how good I have it, quit doing the pity-party routine, and just DO what needed to be done (like boiling water next door in stockpots and carrying it over here).
But I just couldn't seem to do it.
When we finally had both fuel and water, then I finally was capable of cleaning the house. Now, WHY couldn't I vacuum the floor or dust the horizontal surfaces just because there was no water or propane? That's just stupid. But I couldn't. WHY did I have such a hard time doing algebra or physics with kids? Those things certainly aren't dependent on fuel and water. And then there were all the self-scoldings over how I have electricity and so many more conveniences than did women on the prairie 150 years ago. How wussy am I, anyhow?
But it's the brain-strain in doing things in a way that is not routine. So much of our life is on auto-pilot. For example, normally we don't put hardly any thought into brushing our teeth. But if we have to think of taking a walk next-door to the place where there's plumbing, or going outdoors to spit on the lawn and taking a cup of water out there with you, it just takes thinking about it. Auto-pilot isn't good enough. Another example is doing laundry. If you can't just turn a knob and push a button, you have to think about it. You have to figure out if you can wash this load in cold, or you have to boil water for it. And then you have to figure out if you're going to carry that heavy load of water, or find a kid to do it for you, or get out the wagon to bear the weight. None of that is hard stuff. But you have to figure it out. Dozens (or hundreds or thousands) of those tiny little decisions each day just wear out your brain.
I'm even wondering at the moment how much this change of routine complicates other life changes. Having a baby, or sending children off to school for the first time (be they kindergarteners or 18-yr-olds who were homeschooled all along previously), or having hubby retire and come home, or starting a job. Some of those things are joyous life changes, some have grief and loss mixed in. But they all entail a change of routine. Even widowhood, which has copious amounts of grief in one's loss, as well as not having your sweetheart there to see you through it (like he'd seen you through all your previous heartaches), is further complicated by all the little decisions about the change in daily routine.
Right now, I'm ready for some living life on auto-pilot. And if Gary decides to get another computer, that will put one small section of his life back on auto-pilot too.
Relief
Been a little stressed. (Ha! What an understatement!) Our health insurance is due to be terminated, retroactive to May 31, if the past-due premiums are not received by this Sunday. This would've left us not only with the past bills, but also with a lapse in coverage which would've meant pre-existing conditions (such as heart defects, among others) would not have health coverage for a significant period of time. Thanks to generous gifts by saints throughout the Church, money was donated to cover the bill. Our congregational treasurer finally got a check written last Saturday. Given the state of our snail-mail sometimes, we were leery of the payment arriving on time. So we next-day-aired it. And I just received confirmation that the check arrived at Concordia Plan's mailbox. It is not yet in their possession, but it's waiting to be picked-up. WHEW!!! This is a HUGE weight off my mind!
Big Boys, Big Toys
They're building a huge new subdivision in the village near us. It is adjacent to Andrew's paper route, and we've been watching the piles of rock, the new roads, the machinery, etc. But this morning when we went to town for paper routes, they were right there, where I drive and where I have to walk for my route and where Andrew has to walk.
Oh, the coolness of it all! The huge graders and the huge backhoes and all these other dirt-movers that I don't know the names of! They're massive! And they're moving huge piles of dirt and rocks! (And this is probably bad because they're turning perfectly decent farmland into houses with yards that are going to be overly spacious.) It is fascinating to watch!
Because of the road being entirely ripped to pieces, I had to park and walk quite a ways to the apartment building to deliver papers. I passed so many men out there ogling! LOL! It was so cute! Men all over the neighborhood, standing outside, some with cameras, all of them watching the life-sized Tonka trucks in the massive sandbox!
Oh, the coolness of it all! The huge graders and the huge backhoes and all these other dirt-movers that I don't know the names of! They're massive! And they're moving huge piles of dirt and rocks! (And this is probably bad because they're turning perfectly decent farmland into houses with yards that are going to be overly spacious.) It is fascinating to watch!
Because of the road being entirely ripped to pieces, I had to park and walk quite a ways to the apartment building to deliver papers. I passed so many men out there ogling! LOL! It was so cute! Men all over the neighborhood, standing outside, some with cameras, all of them watching the life-sized Tonka trucks in the massive sandbox!
Tuesday, October 09, 2007
New Words in the Hymnal
Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever.
As I've continued to struggle with the changes to the hymns I've memorized, Pastor has continued to remind me that the truth of the absolution is always the same. He has continued to remind me that it's okay if the words presenting that truth change, much like the sermon changes from week to week.
There is a need for keeping the words the same so that we can hang onto them and learn them by heart. Every time I hear pastors and church musicians extol Christians of past generations for the vast number of hymns they sang by heart, I can't help but think that we can't do that today because the powers-that-be keep changing the words on us! But I am trying to focus on what Pastor says about having a balance between keeping the words the same (learning them by heart) and having the fresh explanations that fit the times (just as Pastor's words in Bible class change each week, even though the message stays the same).
Gary and I are reading Christopher Boyd Brown's Singing the Gospel. On page 11 is an interesting statement. Though the CONTENTS of 16th-century hymnals were related to the public use of the hymns in worship, the BOOKS themselves were for the most part not intended for such use, either by professional musicians and clergy or by the laity. So what is that all about? In context, it sounds to me like people learned their hymns at home, sang them in family worship, and then those hymns were also used during the Divine Service. But maybe that's just what I imagine, as I keep stumbling over the hymns during church, and can no longer sing my way through the dishes-washing and the laundry-folding and veggie-chopping.
As I've continued to struggle with the changes to the hymns I've memorized, Pastor has continued to remind me that the truth of the absolution is always the same. He has continued to remind me that it's okay if the words presenting that truth change, much like the sermon changes from week to week.
There is a need for keeping the words the same so that we can hang onto them and learn them by heart. Every time I hear pastors and church musicians extol Christians of past generations for the vast number of hymns they sang by heart, I can't help but think that we can't do that today because the powers-that-be keep changing the words on us! But I am trying to focus on what Pastor says about having a balance between keeping the words the same (learning them by heart) and having the fresh explanations that fit the times (just as Pastor's words in Bible class change each week, even though the message stays the same).
Gary and I are reading Christopher Boyd Brown's Singing the Gospel. On page 11 is an interesting statement. Though the CONTENTS of 16th-century hymnals were related to the public use of the hymns in worship, the BOOKS themselves were for the most part not intended for such use, either by professional musicians and clergy or by the laity. So what is that all about? In context, it sounds to me like people learned their hymns at home, sang them in family worship, and then those hymns were also used during the Divine Service. But maybe that's just what I imagine, as I keep stumbling over the hymns during church, and can no longer sing my way through the dishes-washing and the laundry-folding and veggie-chopping.
Antidote to Parfume d'Skunk
I tried really hard not to TOUCH ANYTHING as I disposed of his poor little lawn-wreckin' body. But it didn't work. When I came in from the cornfield, Paul's nose wrinkled. I was pretty sure it was only on my hands, and I'd been careful to open doors with my wrists or elbows instead of hands. I tried the peroxide cure, and it worked fabulously. I didn't need a whole batch just for hand-washing, so I used
half a cereal-bowl of hydrogen peroxide
about a Tablespoon of baking soda
a tiny squirt of Dawn dish soap.
Boy, it stings the eczema, but it definitely gets rid of skunk smell!
With a nice strong breeze today, and with the carcass downwind, I thought the smell was gone. Apparently we're desensitized. The UPS man just showed up with a package ... and asked about skunk in the yard. Oh well......
half a cereal-bowl of hydrogen peroxide
about a Tablespoon of baking soda
a tiny squirt of Dawn dish soap.
Boy, it stings the eczema, but it definitely gets rid of skunk smell!
With a nice strong breeze today, and with the carcass downwind, I thought the smell was gone. Apparently we're desensitized. The UPS man just showed up with a package ... and asked about skunk in the yard. Oh well......
Skunk Death
Everybody kept asking us, "So if you do catch a skunk, what are you gonna do with him?" Uhhhhh.... Kill him? How? Dunno.
We had a plan. Some of the websites said you could gas a skunk to death in about 10 minutes. So we did what many websites suggested: I held a big blanket in front of me, blocking the skunk's sight of me, walked up to the cage, and draped the blanket gently over the trap. Worked great. Didn't alarm the skunk at all.
We had tubes attached to the cage. We covered the trap with plastic, and put the hoses into the end of the tailpipe of the car. Some websites assured us that you could gas a skunk to death in about 10 minutes. HA! We gassed him for over an hour, and he wasn't dying.
Well, what else could we try? Poison? The only thing we had was antifreeze. We tried pouring that into the cage, but he didn't bother with it. Or didn't get enough to hurt him.
How do you kill things? We considered possibilities we'd seen on murder-mystery tv shows. Carbon monoxide didn't work. So suffocation wouldn't work either. We didn't really want to get close enough to give him a plate of poison hidden in hamburger. We didn't want to get close enough to give him a mallet to the head. We had nothing big enough and deep enough to drown him in. We thought about dragging the trap way out back and letting him starve to death. Besides not being very humane, it probably wouldn't have worked since skunks semi-hibernate, and he probably could've gone a long long time before starving to death. Didn't want to shoot him because we didn't want to wake the neighbors in the wee hours of the morning, and didn't particularly want to get close enough to have good aim through the bars of the cage. But seeing no other options, the gun became the best-looking option.
He'd ripped holes in the blanket that covered the trap. He'd pulled the plastic through the blanket-holes. So Gary stuck the point of the air-rifle through the blanket-hole where we could see some black fur, and shot blindly. Then we got odor and ran for the house. Five or ten minutes later, we went out to see what had happened. No rustling in the cage. When the cage was shaken, no wiggling. So he was dead. And the smell wasn't too bad because most of it was contained in the cage. (The holey blanket will go in the dumpster or get burned.)
Turned out that he was one smart skunk about the carbon monoxide. Not only did he manage to get rid of the plastic cover, but he pulled it inside the cage and used it to make a barrier between him and the hoses carrying the deadly gas. AND the little booger kept sticking his nose out the holes he'd chewed in the heavy blanket.
So now, when the neighbors ask "What do you DO with a skunk if you catch him?" we have a plethora of possibilities. Most of which do not work! Next time we'll go straight for an old mattress pad or blanket, and the gun.
We had a plan. Some of the websites said you could gas a skunk to death in about 10 minutes. So we did what many websites suggested: I held a big blanket in front of me, blocking the skunk's sight of me, walked up to the cage, and draped the blanket gently over the trap. Worked great. Didn't alarm the skunk at all.
We had tubes attached to the cage. We covered the trap with plastic, and put the hoses into the end of the tailpipe of the car. Some websites assured us that you could gas a skunk to death in about 10 minutes. HA! We gassed him for over an hour, and he wasn't dying.
Well, what else could we try? Poison? The only thing we had was antifreeze. We tried pouring that into the cage, but he didn't bother with it. Or didn't get enough to hurt him.
How do you kill things? We considered possibilities we'd seen on murder-mystery tv shows. Carbon monoxide didn't work. So suffocation wouldn't work either. We didn't really want to get close enough to give him a plate of poison hidden in hamburger. We didn't want to get close enough to give him a mallet to the head. We had nothing big enough and deep enough to drown him in. We thought about dragging the trap way out back and letting him starve to death. Besides not being very humane, it probably wouldn't have worked since skunks semi-hibernate, and he probably could've gone a long long time before starving to death. Didn't want to shoot him because we didn't want to wake the neighbors in the wee hours of the morning, and didn't particularly want to get close enough to have good aim through the bars of the cage. But seeing no other options, the gun became the best-looking option.
He'd ripped holes in the blanket that covered the trap. He'd pulled the plastic through the blanket-holes. So Gary stuck the point of the air-rifle through the blanket-hole where we could see some black fur, and shot blindly. Then we got odor and ran for the house. Five or ten minutes later, we went out to see what had happened. No rustling in the cage. When the cage was shaken, no wiggling. So he was dead. And the smell wasn't too bad because most of it was contained in the cage. (The holey blanket will go in the dumpster or get burned.)
Turned out that he was one smart skunk about the carbon monoxide. Not only did he manage to get rid of the plastic cover, but he pulled it inside the cage and used it to make a barrier between him and the hoses carrying the deadly gas. AND the little booger kept sticking his nose out the holes he'd chewed in the heavy blanket.
So now, when the neighbors ask "What do you DO with a skunk if you catch him?" we have a plethora of possibilities. Most of which do not work! Next time we'll go straight for an old mattress pad or blanket, and the gun.
Premiere Skunk Bait
For a week of being tempted with tantalizing tuna, and a delicious side dish of wormy apples, the skunk had refused to bite.
Last night we changed bait. Suckered him right into the trap on the very first try! Purina Cat Chow NATURALS Plus Vitamins and Minerals.
Last night we changed bait. Suckered him right into the trap on the very first try! Purina Cat Chow NATURALS Plus Vitamins and Minerals.
Monday, October 08, 2007
Don't Be Hasty
When a pastor rushes through the liturgy, speaking rapidly and maybe even deleting parts of the Service, what message is given to the people? That this is something to "get through." Something that takes second place to whatever comes next. If the words we hear in church actually are the most important thing in the universe -- the way we know God -- why are we in such a hurry to get done with it? Would it be too time-consuming if we had a little time to meditate on the words we pray as we say them or hear them?
Post Office CLosed
ARRRRGH! The most important thing I had to do today (actually, the most important thing I had to do for the whole week, maybe for the month) was to next-day-air a critical piece of mail. When I got to the post office this morning, I found they were closed for Columbus Day. Getting there tomorrow will be okay, but I really wanted that job done, taken care of, finished, completed, concluded. And it's not now.
Impenitence
While jogging this morning (and listening to a tape of an old sermon) I heard such a good definition of impenitence. "The refusal to believe what God's law says about you, a sinner."
According to that, impenitence would include those who poo-poo God's law, saying that it's old-fashioned or out-dated.
According to that, impenitence would include those who know that something is wrong, but do it anyway because "everybody does it."
According to that, impenitence would include those who know their sin and even "regret" their sin, but callously excuse it with a sing-songy, "Oh, well, God forgives me, so it doesn't really matter."
Impenitence: refusing to believe the condemnation that is due you for your sin.
According to that, impenitence would include those who poo-poo God's law, saying that it's old-fashioned or out-dated.
According to that, impenitence would include those who know that something is wrong, but do it anyway because "everybody does it."
According to that, impenitence would include those who know their sin and even "regret" their sin, but callously excuse it with a sing-songy, "Oh, well, God forgives me, so it doesn't really matter."
Impenitence: refusing to believe the condemnation that is due you for your sin.
Lilacs
This is some funky weather we're having. I know lots of people are wishing for the crisp cool days of autumn. But I kinda like summer. I'm not minding these days in the 80s and even topping 90. (I'm not so fond of the hyper-abundance of beetles that accompanies the warmth, but hey, they'd be bad with the harvesting going on anyway.)
But the super-weirdness is that one of my lilacs has bloomed. It's October. Lilacs bloom in May. Didn't the shrub read the instruction manual?? They're little blooms, about the size of carnations. I hope this doesn't do in next May's blossoms.
But the super-weirdness is that one of my lilacs has bloomed. It's October. Lilacs bloom in May. Didn't the shrub read the instruction manual?? They're little blooms, about the size of carnations. I hope this doesn't do in next May's blossoms.
Sunday, October 07, 2007
News Flash (Funny!)
Today's paper had a story about sex-segregated classrooms in the local middle school. The story was well done, enjoyable to read, and brought up some good points regarding education.
But one paragraph made us all bust a gut laughing:
"Teachers are working on a theory that boys are different from girls at this age, different in their interests, maturity, and in what teaching techniques will help them learn."
It's a THEORY, eh?
But one paragraph made us all bust a gut laughing:
"Teachers are working on a theory that boys are different from girls at this age, different in their interests, maturity, and in what teaching techniques will help them learn."
It's a THEORY, eh?
Survival of the Fittest
After listening to some of the presentations yesterday on medical care for the handicapped, something became apparent. A huge irony.
There is one group of people in our society who promotes evolution. As much as possible, they ensure that "intelligent design" is not allowed in schools. They ridicule those who believe in creation. They talk about things that happened millions (or billions) of years ago. And yet, these are often the same people who suggest that the government [that is, the taxpayers] fund massively expensive programs to fund health care and social programs for those who are not the "fittest."
Now, I am not saying I'm against expensive surgery and cures. My mom, my aunt, and my daughter all benefited from medical technology that was not cheap nor simple. But it seems odd that those who believe in "the survival of the fittest" would also be the ones who want to fund programs to keep alive those who would've otherwise died. To be intellectually consistent, shouldn't they be wishing for the needy and the handicapped to be denied medical treatment, so as to "cleanse the gene pool"?
Ah, but I guess in some other countries, the liberals have already gotten to that point.
There is one group of people in our society who promotes evolution. As much as possible, they ensure that "intelligent design" is not allowed in schools. They ridicule those who believe in creation. They talk about things that happened millions (or billions) of years ago. And yet, these are often the same people who suggest that the government [that is, the taxpayers] fund massively expensive programs to fund health care and social programs for those who are not the "fittest."
Now, I am not saying I'm against expensive surgery and cures. My mom, my aunt, and my daughter all benefited from medical technology that was not cheap nor simple. But it seems odd that those who believe in "the survival of the fittest" would also be the ones who want to fund programs to keep alive those who would've otherwise died. To be intellectually consistent, shouldn't they be wishing for the needy and the handicapped to be denied medical treatment, so as to "cleanse the gene pool"?
Ah, but I guess in some other countries, the liberals have already gotten to that point.
Evolution
There's the stark bald theory of evolution as it impacts the origin of the universe and where Man came from. But there are many corollaries to the theory of evolution. Whenever we read about the "invention" of writing, or the "invention" of farming, or the "invention" of metal tools, those ideas about ancient civilization have grown out of the idea that man evolves, that society evolves, that civilization improves and grows and advances.
Granted, there was a serious setback to technology when the Flood destroyed everything but those eight people and the animals on the ark. But as the people began to rebuild their civilization and their technology, they were not dummies "discovering" things, but smart people who were starting from scratch in a mess of a world.
Granted, there was a serious setback to technology when the Flood destroyed everything but those eight people and the animals on the ark. But as the people began to rebuild their civilization and their technology, they were not dummies "discovering" things, but smart people who were starting from scratch in a mess of a world.
Psalm 34: 18
The Lord is near to those who have a broken heart,
and saves such as have a contrite spirit.
David wrote this before he was king, when he was on the lam, pretending to be insane. Later, after the incident with Uriah and Bathsheba, he wrote, "The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit. A broken and contrite heart, o God, Thou wilt not despise."
So even David the Psalmist had his words and his hymnody shaped by the hymns he had previously learned by heart.
and saves such as have a contrite spirit.
David wrote this before he was king, when he was on the lam, pretending to be insane. Later, after the incident with Uriah and Bathsheba, he wrote, "The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit. A broken and contrite heart, o God, Thou wilt not despise."
So even David the Psalmist had his words and his hymnody shaped by the hymns he had previously learned by heart.
Saturday, October 06, 2007
Our Skunk
Well, he's smart enough to hang out VERY close to the house at 4 in the morning. Too close for Gary to feel comfortable using a gun.
And he's smart enough to hang out right next to the live-trap, digging up grubs, and leaving piles of black poop right by the trap, but eschewing the delicious tuna inside the trap.
Rotten skunk.
And he's smart enough to hang out right next to the live-trap, digging up grubs, and leaving piles of black poop right by the trap, but eschewing the delicious tuna inside the trap.
Rotten skunk.
Angry
This morning I had plans to go to a presentation at Children's Hospital put on by the social workers. It was about two things concerning services provided to special-needs kids. First, transitioning from children's services to adult services. Second, the changes in the way the State is administering the funds and overseeing how the money is spent. We're not getting any government services, but the day will come when an uninsurable child is no longer covered by her daddy's health insurance. So I wanted to hear about what changes are in the offing.
It was pretty much a waste of time. The speakers referred only to the new services available in some counties -- places I do not live. But there was the one comment that infuriated me.
A woman was explaining the problem with long waiting lists for obtaining day care, or group homes, or any of the other services people wish to obtain. "They have twelve-year waiting lists for these services. Now, you certainly don't want your child spending that twelve years waiting in YOUR home, watching Oprah all day. They have a right to their own apartment."
Granted, I don't want my kid watching Oprah all day. Or at all. Or watching anything (no matter how good) ALL day.
But to object to having your own child in your home? They turn 18, and they're supposed to be kicked out the door. Who cares that a special-needs (dare I say the naughty word "handicapped"?) child may take longer to grow up? Who cares that their special needs may require [ummmmmmm.....] special allowances? Nope nope nope. We have our own lives to live, and the government better be taking care of this adult-child because I'm ready to wash my hands of it and get on with my life.
Gag.
It was pretty much a waste of time. The speakers referred only to the new services available in some counties -- places I do not live. But there was the one comment that infuriated me.
A woman was explaining the problem with long waiting lists for obtaining day care, or group homes, or any of the other services people wish to obtain. "They have twelve-year waiting lists for these services. Now, you certainly don't want your child spending that twelve years waiting in YOUR home, watching Oprah all day. They have a right to their own apartment."
Granted, I don't want my kid watching Oprah all day. Or at all. Or watching anything (no matter how good) ALL day.
But to object to having your own child in your home? They turn 18, and they're supposed to be kicked out the door. Who cares that a special-needs (dare I say the naughty word "handicapped"?) child may take longer to grow up? Who cares that their special needs may require [ummmmmmm.....] special allowances? Nope nope nope. We have our own lives to live, and the government better be taking care of this adult-child because I'm ready to wash my hands of it and get on with my life.
Gag.
Thursday, October 04, 2007
What the Holy Spirit Does
From the Cantate Gospel:
I will send [the Helper] to you. And when He has come, He will convict the world of sin and of righteousness and of judgment. (John 16:7-11)
From the Exaudi Gospel:
But when the Helper comes, whom I shall send to you from the Father, the Spirit of truth who proceeds from the Father, He will testify of Me. (John 15:26)
When the Holy Spirit comes, what does He do? Convict the world of sin, righteousness, and judgment? Or testify of Jesus? Are those two distinct jobs? Or are they the SAME thing? Could it be that the way the Holy Ghost convicts the world is by testifying to what Jesus has done?
Cantate = fourth Sunday after Easter
Exaudi = sixth Sunday after Easter
I will send [the Helper] to you. And when He has come, He will convict the world of sin and of righteousness and of judgment. (John 16:7-11)
From the Exaudi Gospel:
But when the Helper comes, whom I shall send to you from the Father, the Spirit of truth who proceeds from the Father, He will testify of Me. (John 15:26)
When the Holy Spirit comes, what does He do? Convict the world of sin, righteousness, and judgment? Or testify of Jesus? Are those two distinct jobs? Or are they the SAME thing? Could it be that the way the Holy Ghost convicts the world is by testifying to what Jesus has done?
Cantate = fourth Sunday after Easter
Exaudi = sixth Sunday after Easter
Sad Kitty
When women are depressed, they eat chocolate (until they get so depressed that they can't even stomach that). When a cat is depressed, she eats gophers. And mice. And chipmunks. And gophers. Wrong time of year -- there aren't copious amounts of baby birds attempting to learn to fly, so I think I'll go grab me another gopher.
You would not believe my humans (says Athena). They brought a kitten into my house. She has disgusting amounts of energy. She bounces around this place. The people coo and ahhh over her. She drinks out of my water dish and eats out of my bowl. She wants to play with my tail! The indignity of it all! And now that she's growing, she's invading MY outdoor hunting grounds too. Better find another gopher to chow down.
I'll show them! I won't let them love me. I won't cuddle with them on the couch. I won't stay indoors at night. I am just going to stay outside and hunt gophers and assuage my sorry pitiful soul.
And now! Can you believe what they've done now? They keep talking about a skunk. They put tuna [oh, how I luv tuna!] outdoors in a wire box. But I can't get to it. It's locked. But I can smell its delicious tuna-y smell. The last three evenings when I've come in for a quick "toothbrushing" of kibble and a drink of water to carry me through my gopher-hunting night, they won't let me back out again. Something about whether "the trap has been set yet."
I sit at the door and meow. I go up to those slaves and try to show them the way to the door. And they keep saying, "Sorry, you can't go out. We don't want to catch YOU in the trap. The trap is for the skunk. We love you and want you to be safe." What is the meaning of this outrage? Not only did they bring a kitten into my territory, but now they've cut off my means of escape and make me stay indoors all night with the wretched little creature, AND they've taken away mychocolate gophers.
Slave's rebuttal: Maybe we're going to have to take a night off of attempting to catch the skunk. Otherwise the cat may never come indoors again.
You would not believe my humans (says Athena). They brought a kitten into my house. She has disgusting amounts of energy. She bounces around this place. The people coo and ahhh over her. She drinks out of my water dish and eats out of my bowl. She wants to play with my tail! The indignity of it all! And now that she's growing, she's invading MY outdoor hunting grounds too. Better find another gopher to chow down.
I'll show them! I won't let them love me. I won't cuddle with them on the couch. I won't stay indoors at night. I am just going to stay outside and hunt gophers and assuage my sorry pitiful soul.
And now! Can you believe what they've done now? They keep talking about a skunk. They put tuna [oh, how I luv tuna!] outdoors in a wire box. But I can't get to it. It's locked. But I can smell its delicious tuna-y smell. The last three evenings when I've come in for a quick "toothbrushing" of kibble and a drink of water to carry me through my gopher-hunting night, they won't let me back out again. Something about whether "the trap has been set yet."
I sit at the door and meow. I go up to those slaves and try to show them the way to the door. And they keep saying, "Sorry, you can't go out. We don't want to catch YOU in the trap. The trap is for the skunk. We love you and want you to be safe." What is the meaning of this outrage? Not only did they bring a kitten into my territory, but now they've cut off my means of escape and make me stay indoors all night with the wretched little creature, AND they've taken away my
Slave's rebuttal: Maybe we're going to have to take a night off of attempting to catch the skunk. Otherwise the cat may never come indoors again.
City Folks and Kombucha
A blog visitor recently got here by googling "how can I make my kombucha fizzier?" It was really interesting to go back and look at some of the other hits that came up for that question. One in particular was full of all sorts of science information for balancing the yeast and bacteria in the scoby. On the one hand, helpful. But on the other hand, pretty intimidating and complicated if you're a bear of little brain. The site overwhelmed me, and I've been making kombucha for more than three years. Nevertheless, lots of trouble-shooting advice on that site.
A few days later, I was talking to Katie and she said her kombucha just got ickier and ickier as she made a few batches. She ended up throwing out two batches, and finally gave up. Well, guess what? That website had told me the answer. The chlorinated water that is available in city water-pipes has [duh!] chlorine in it. And why does it have chlorine? To kill bacteria! And what is a kombucha mushroom? A scoby: a symbiotic colony of BACTERIA and yeast. So using chlorinated water will slowly kill your bacteria and leave you with way too many yeastie-beasties in your scoby.... which will become a scoy (leaving out the B) and you'll end up with something that is NOT kombucha.
The solution would be to buy distilled water, or use a good water filter. They also say that letting water sit out on the counter in an open container for 24 hours will allow the chlorine to dissipate into the air. Out here in the country, with real water coming out of a real well, and with a nice reverse-osmosis system, I've got water that makes happy kombucha. But if we ever have to shock the well again, I'd better plan on buying water for kombucha for a few months.
(Side note on Site-meter. I've been amazed at the number of visitors who've come recently, looking for information on how to use a juicer to make grape jelly/jam. It's been anywhere from 4-8% of my daily hits for the last few weeks. It's kinda fun to think that writing about your experiment -- and how well it turned out -- can assure other people that it's safe to try the same thing.)
A few days later, I was talking to Katie and she said her kombucha just got ickier and ickier as she made a few batches. She ended up throwing out two batches, and finally gave up. Well, guess what? That website had told me the answer. The chlorinated water that is available in city water-pipes has [duh!] chlorine in it. And why does it have chlorine? To kill bacteria! And what is a kombucha mushroom? A scoby: a symbiotic colony of BACTERIA and yeast. So using chlorinated water will slowly kill your bacteria and leave you with way too many yeastie-beasties in your scoby.... which will become a scoy (leaving out the B) and you'll end up with something that is NOT kombucha.
The solution would be to buy distilled water, or use a good water filter. They also say that letting water sit out on the counter in an open container for 24 hours will allow the chlorine to dissipate into the air. Out here in the country, with real water coming out of a real well, and with a nice reverse-osmosis system, I've got water that makes happy kombucha. But if we ever have to shock the well again, I'd better plan on buying water for kombucha for a few months.
(Side note on Site-meter. I've been amazed at the number of visitors who've come recently, looking for information on how to use a juicer to make grape jelly/jam. It's been anywhere from 4-8% of my daily hits for the last few weeks. It's kinda fun to think that writing about your experiment -- and how well it turned out -- can assure other people that it's safe to try the same thing.)
Acts 8:2
Despised and scorned, they sojourned here.
But now, how glorious they appear!
Those martyrs stand,
a priestly band,
God's throne forever near.
So oft, in troubled days gone by,
in anguish they would weep and sigh.
At home, above, the God of love
for aye their tears shall dry.
They now enjoy their Sabbath rest,
the paschal banquet of the blessed:
the Lamb, their Lord, at festal board
Himself is host and guest.
Evil world, I leave thee;
thou canst not deceive me;
thine appeal is vain.
Sin that once did blind me,
Get thee far behind me;
Come not forth again.
Past thy hour, o pride and power;
sinful life, thy bonds I sever,
leave thee now forever.
For those who will ask, TLH 347 (aka LSB 743)
and TLH 656 (which has some similarity to LSB 676).
But now, how glorious they appear!
Those martyrs stand,
a priestly band,
God's throne forever near.
So oft, in troubled days gone by,
in anguish they would weep and sigh.
At home, above, the God of love
for aye their tears shall dry.
They now enjoy their Sabbath rest,
the paschal banquet of the blessed:
the Lamb, their Lord, at festal board
Himself is host and guest.
Evil world, I leave thee;
thou canst not deceive me;
thine appeal is vain.
Sin that once did blind me,
Get thee far behind me;
Come not forth again.
Past thy hour, o pride and power;
sinful life, thy bonds I sever,
leave thee now forever.
For those who will ask, TLH 347 (aka LSB 743)
and TLH 656 (which has some similarity to LSB 676).
Wednesday, October 03, 2007
Is This Logical?
What is a church, anyway?
Can a church get by without a pastor?
According to Augsburg Confession article 5, God gave the preaching office (that is, provided the Gospel and sacraments) so that the Holy Spirit could work through the Word to bring people to faith. According to article 7, we recognize the church by her marks (the Gospel being preached and the sacraments being administered).
So churches need pastors. Of course, there will be times when a church goes without a pastor for a short time. Death takes away pastors. Occasionally a pastor will move to a different congregation. But overall, churches need pastors -- wouldn't you say?
So would it make sense for someone to advise that a church can survive financially only if they get rid of their pastor? How can a church survive without a pastor?
And maybe these ruminations had some effect on today's earlier ruminations regarding the history lessons about those Pilgrims who were running away from the Office of the Ministry (among other gifts ordained by God).
Can a church get by without a pastor?
According to Augsburg Confession article 5, God gave the preaching office (that is, provided the Gospel and sacraments) so that the Holy Spirit could work through the Word to bring people to faith. According to article 7, we recognize the church by her marks (the Gospel being preached and the sacraments being administered).
So churches need pastors. Of course, there will be times when a church goes without a pastor for a short time. Death takes away pastors. Occasionally a pastor will move to a different congregation. But overall, churches need pastors -- wouldn't you say?
So would it make sense for someone to advise that a church can survive financially only if they get rid of their pastor? How can a church survive without a pastor?
And maybe these ruminations had some effect on today's earlier ruminations regarding the history lessons about those Pilgrims who were running away from the Office of the Ministry (among other gifts ordained by God).
Proposal: A New Sin Tax
We heard on the radio yet another new load of government spending that is to be financed by taxes on cigarettes. It seems a little schizo for the lawmakers to be passing legislation which continually gets closer to prohibiting tobacco altogether, which at the same time needing the tax revenue that comes from smokers.
Pretty soon, the lawmakers are going to have to find a new source of funding as more and more smokers kick the habit.
Maybe what we need is a sin tax on pop.
Think about it.
Soda pop is probably doing more damage to health than cigarettes are.
Or -- if we wanted to get REALLY wild and crazy about the lost revenue due to smokers becoming ex-smokers -- the government could consider curtailing spending.
Pretty soon, the lawmakers are going to have to find a new source of funding as more and more smokers kick the habit.
Maybe what we need is a sin tax on pop.
Think about it.
Soda pop is probably doing more damage to health than cigarettes are.
Or -- if we wanted to get REALLY wild and crazy about the lost revenue due to smokers becoming ex-smokers -- the government could consider curtailing spending.
Pilgrims
Our history reading these days is from the 1580s to the 1630s. So of course we keep coming back to touch on Queen Elizabeth, King James, and Jamestown, as well as what's up with the Separatists who would become the Plimouth Pilgrims.
I tell ya, the whole "ain't it great how they gave us religious freedom" only goes so far with me. On the one hand, yes, I am thankful that I am free to go to a church that teaches what I believe. (Given the weirdness of what I believe and how it's so different from what most Americans believe, I am especially glad for religious freedom: the freedom to have the Sacraments and the liturgy and to take the Bible seriously regarding both sin and grace.)
But then there's the other hand. These people wanted a religion free from the Office of the Holy Ministry. A religion free from the liturgy. A religion free from sacraments. A religion where their leaders did not wear vestments. A religion free from what had been handed down in the church for centuries. For all their disdain of what Christianity offered, they still considered themselves a "religious" people, and even considered themselves "Christian." It would be hard to believe if it weren't for our encountering the same thing today.
I tell ya, the whole "ain't it great how they gave us religious freedom" only goes so far with me. On the one hand, yes, I am thankful that I am free to go to a church that teaches what I believe. (Given the weirdness of what I believe and how it's so different from what most Americans believe, I am especially glad for religious freedom: the freedom to have the Sacraments and the liturgy and to take the Bible seriously regarding both sin and grace.)
But then there's the other hand. These people wanted a religion free from the Office of the Holy Ministry. A religion free from the liturgy. A religion free from sacraments. A religion where their leaders did not wear vestments. A religion free from what had been handed down in the church for centuries. For all their disdain of what Christianity offered, they still considered themselves a "religious" people, and even considered themselves "Christian." It would be hard to believe if it weren't for our encountering the same thing today.
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
Crockpot Lids
Two crockpots in perfectly decently shape. Except for the lids. I hate to think of heating elements that work fine, and a crock that works fine, all going to waste because of broken lids. (One lid had been cracked for over a year, but finally landed in the dumpster in recent months. The other one's lid shattered tonight.)
Is this normal? Is this how crockpots meet their doom? An innocent little flaw like a broken lid?
By the way, I tried looking online to buy a lid. But the cost of replacement and shipping was more than buying a whole new crockpot.
We need a matchmaking service for crockpots whose lids have broken to make marriages with lids whose crocks have broken. Then we could celebrate new life to appliances! More money in our wallets! And less garbage in the landfills!
Is this normal? Is this how crockpots meet their doom? An innocent little flaw like a broken lid?
By the way, I tried looking online to buy a lid. But the cost of replacement and shipping was more than buying a whole new crockpot.
We need a matchmaking service for crockpots whose lids have broken to make marriages with lids whose crocks have broken. Then we could celebrate new life to appliances! More money in our wallets! And less garbage in the landfills!
Self-Esteem
We tell little kids that each and every one of them could grow up to be president. For 3-4 decades we've been telling little girls that they can grow up to "have it all" -- family, career, self-fulfillment, etc. We praise people who "give 110%." (That drives me nuts. It's impossible to give 110%. A price can be 110% of the former price. Population growth can be 110%. But effort expended cannot be more than 100%.)
I realize it is good to set high goals and work for them. But do we set the bar so high in so many areas that our society is creating unreasonable expectations? Have we encouraged too many people to reach for perfection in too many areas of life? There was that news story last week that showed woman have significantly less "happiness" than men. Women are the ones trying to keep the jobs going and the house clean and the children nurtured and the volunteerism coordinated, ad infinitum. But today's women are the ones who were brainwashed as little girls that we could have it all. Men weren't told that. And men tend to be happier than women these days.
Reaching for lofty goals is a good thing. Reaching for unattainable goals is damaging. "Be all that you can be." "Have you done all you can to make it happen?" "Work to the best of your ability." What's sad is that we don't want to admit that this [whatever it is] is "all that I can do." We always think we could do a little more, be a little more organized, be a little more efficient, be a little more hard-working. If we could just do a little more, we know we could make it happen [whatever it is]. But sometimes that's just not possible. Sometimes doing "all you can" isn't enough to change things out of your control.
But thanks to the feminists of the 60s and 70s, few women today can accept that.
I realize it is good to set high goals and work for them. But do we set the bar so high in so many areas that our society is creating unreasonable expectations? Have we encouraged too many people to reach for perfection in too many areas of life? There was that news story last week that showed woman have significantly less "happiness" than men. Women are the ones trying to keep the jobs going and the house clean and the children nurtured and the volunteerism coordinated, ad infinitum. But today's women are the ones who were brainwashed as little girls that we could have it all. Men weren't told that. And men tend to be happier than women these days.
Reaching for lofty goals is a good thing. Reaching for unattainable goals is damaging. "Be all that you can be." "Have you done all you can to make it happen?" "Work to the best of your ability." What's sad is that we don't want to admit that this [whatever it is] is "all that I can do." We always think we could do a little more, be a little more organized, be a little more efficient, be a little more hard-working. If we could just do a little more, we know we could make it happen [whatever it is]. But sometimes that's just not possible. Sometimes doing "all you can" isn't enough to change things out of your control.
But thanks to the feminists of the 60s and 70s, few women today can accept that.
Candy Bars
Hey, Sunday's newspaper came with a free sample of a new candy bar from Kellog, and a coupon for a box of them. They're called "Crunchy Nut Sweet & Salty Granola Bars." (Silly children told me they weren't candy bars but granola bars. Silly children didn't read the label for the ingredients and the "nutrition" factoids.) The bar [call it granola, call it candy, call it whatever] tasted amazingly like a Pay Day candy bar. Yum yum yum!!!
And while I'm thinking of candy bars, I've noticed something about Snickers. It seems to me there's a hint of cinnamon in them. The label doesn't indicate cinnamon or spice or any of those vague "catch-all" categories of ingredients. But there's something about that light touch of spiciness that's especially tasty recently.
And while I'm thinking of candy bars, I've noticed something about Snickers. It seems to me there's a hint of cinnamon in them. The label doesn't indicate cinnamon or spice or any of those vague "catch-all" categories of ingredients. But there's something about that light touch of spiciness that's especially tasty recently.
Monday, October 01, 2007
Pharisees
I keep wondering if the pharisees thought they believed in grace. We recognize that they trusted in their works. But did they recognize that?
Clothesline
Our clotheslines was two years old, and the cotton was getting worn. On top of that, it needed to come down to make room for the backhoe last week.
Andrew (that's-MY-son Andrew) has been waiting for a good day to have the sheets and pajamas washed AND HUNG ON THE LINE. There's something glorious about the perfume of line-dried clothing and sheets. It's so great to crawl into a freshly made bed, in jammies that have that wondrous smell!
Hanging the new clothesline today reminded me of the value of my Klutz Book of Knots. You'd think after learning this knot dozens of times, I could remember it. But no. I always have to take the book outdoors with me to hang new clotheslines. I don't know how I ever managed a clotheslines before I discovered that one-way tightens-only knot.
Andrew (that's-MY-son Andrew) has been waiting for a good day to have the sheets and pajamas washed AND HUNG ON THE LINE. There's something glorious about the perfume of line-dried clothing and sheets. It's so great to crawl into a freshly made bed, in jammies that have that wondrous smell!
Hanging the new clothesline today reminded me of the value of my Klutz Book of Knots. You'd think after learning this knot dozens of times, I could remember it. But no. I always have to take the book outdoors with me to hang new clotheslines. I don't know how I ever managed a clotheslines before I discovered that one-way tightens-only knot.
Sunday, September 30, 2007
The Government who Cried "Wolf"
Maggie and the little girl next door were playing. The neighbor asked if Maggie could stay to supper; they were having a small party -- food, drinks, some games and movies. Then she realized that I might misunderstand "drinks." This little 9-yr-old hastened to assure me that they wouldn't be drinking beer and wine, just, y'know, "drinks," not "drinks."
Then she went on to tell me that she is taught at school how bad drinks are. They say if you have even ONE drink, that you'll get sick and end up in the hospital. And that if you have several drinks, you might die from it. But she said that didn't make sense. Sometimes her mom will have four or five beers in one day (I'm assuming that's through the course of a long evening), and her mom never gets sick from beer. And she pointed out to me that, IF what "they" say is true, then EVERYbody would be sick from beer and would've been hospitalized from it, because everybody has beer-butt chicken. (Sorry to say, I have not yet partaken of this dish which I have been assured is marvelous. I'm going to have to remedy this oversight someday.) So here's this little girl, telling me that she doesn't think liquor is so horrible as they keep trying to teach her it is. Her experience contradicts what the school teachers say.
Then there's the speed limits in construction zones. Flashing signs along the road warn us to slow down for construction. Orange signs warn us that there are "Men Working" ahead. Threats are invoked: fines are doubled in work zones. And yet, how often do we see the signs, and drive for 20 miles in a "construction zone" where there is absolutely no construction? If it were in unfamiliar territory, you could rack it up to "They're just putting up the cones and the signs; the trucks and backhoes will be here tomorrow." But when you live there, and for five months the 20-mile-long "construction zone" consists only of men on two bridges, only on the weekday afternoons, well, it gets pretty hard to take seriously the need to drive 45 mph (instead of 65 or 70) on a Saturday morning for the whole length of road.
However, sometimes there ARE "men working." One of our neighbors (working on road repairs) nearly lost his leg and was hospitalized for months when a motorist ignored the speed limits in the construction zone, and smashed into him. Is it the fault of the motorist? Yes, to some extent. But how much is it also the fault of the government which puts up "SLOW: men working" signs when there just aren't any repairmen anywhere around?
About a year ago, a citizens' group in a nearby city got funding to run a campaign to encourage parents not to provide liquor to kids. They just couldn't figure out why parents weren't getting on the bandwagon. They had all these billboards up, telling people not to keep beer in the fridge because it would be too easy for their children to have access to it. (So, let me get this straight. They're promoting drinking warm beer? Or they want the grown-ups to have no beer, as long as there are minors in the home?) This group ran newspaper articles, trying to get parents to support "Not a Drop Till They're 21." And they couldn't figure out why more parents weren't supporting the cause. I called and talked to the group organizer. She couldn't understand why I was "in favor of" parents buying multiple kegs and many bottles of hard liquor for a party for 14-18 yr olds. I kept saying that there's a world of difference between getting other people's kids totally schnockered, and serving your own 19-yr-old a 3-ounce glass of wine with a spaghetti dinner at the dining room table. As long as these folks can't tell the difference, though, they will have no credibility out there in the real world.
If the government were just HONEST instead of insisting that "The sky is falling! The sky is falling!" maybe we'd take them seriously more often. But as long as the sky is falling, we will all be questioning the "need" to give up our incandescent light bulbs, buy ethanol, eat oat bran, avoid cholesterol, repaint our houses too often because there's no lead in the paint, and drive plastic buckets to conserve fuel.
Then she went on to tell me that she is taught at school how bad drinks are. They say if you have even ONE drink, that you'll get sick and end up in the hospital. And that if you have several drinks, you might die from it. But she said that didn't make sense. Sometimes her mom will have four or five beers in one day (I'm assuming that's through the course of a long evening), and her mom never gets sick from beer. And she pointed out to me that, IF what "they" say is true, then EVERYbody would be sick from beer and would've been hospitalized from it, because everybody has beer-butt chicken. (Sorry to say, I have not yet partaken of this dish which I have been assured is marvelous. I'm going to have to remedy this oversight someday.) So here's this little girl, telling me that she doesn't think liquor is so horrible as they keep trying to teach her it is. Her experience contradicts what the school teachers say.
Then there's the speed limits in construction zones. Flashing signs along the road warn us to slow down for construction. Orange signs warn us that there are "Men Working" ahead. Threats are invoked: fines are doubled in work zones. And yet, how often do we see the signs, and drive for 20 miles in a "construction zone" where there is absolutely no construction? If it were in unfamiliar territory, you could rack it up to "They're just putting up the cones and the signs; the trucks and backhoes will be here tomorrow." But when you live there, and for five months the 20-mile-long "construction zone" consists only of men on two bridges, only on the weekday afternoons, well, it gets pretty hard to take seriously the need to drive 45 mph (instead of 65 or 70) on a Saturday morning for the whole length of road.
However, sometimes there ARE "men working." One of our neighbors (working on road repairs) nearly lost his leg and was hospitalized for months when a motorist ignored the speed limits in the construction zone, and smashed into him. Is it the fault of the motorist? Yes, to some extent. But how much is it also the fault of the government which puts up "SLOW: men working" signs when there just aren't any repairmen anywhere around?
About a year ago, a citizens' group in a nearby city got funding to run a campaign to encourage parents not to provide liquor to kids. They just couldn't figure out why parents weren't getting on the bandwagon. They had all these billboards up, telling people not to keep beer in the fridge because it would be too easy for their children to have access to it. (So, let me get this straight. They're promoting drinking warm beer? Or they want the grown-ups to have no beer, as long as there are minors in the home?) This group ran newspaper articles, trying to get parents to support "Not a Drop Till They're 21." And they couldn't figure out why more parents weren't supporting the cause. I called and talked to the group organizer. She couldn't understand why I was "in favor of" parents buying multiple kegs and many bottles of hard liquor for a party for 14-18 yr olds. I kept saying that there's a world of difference between getting other people's kids totally schnockered, and serving your own 19-yr-old a 3-ounce glass of wine with a spaghetti dinner at the dining room table. As long as these folks can't tell the difference, though, they will have no credibility out there in the real world.
If the government were just HONEST instead of insisting that "The sky is falling! The sky is falling!" maybe we'd take them seriously more often. But as long as the sky is falling, we will all be questioning the "need" to give up our incandescent light bulbs, buy ethanol, eat oat bran, avoid cholesterol, repaint our houses too often because there's no lead in the paint, and drive plastic buckets to conserve fuel.
Estimated Family Contribution
For those wanting to get a rough idea of how their kid's financial aid forms for college will turn out, check out a couple of these websites. There's the Financial Aid Estimator calculator. But you can also go to a government website that will give you an idea of percentages of parents' income, parents' assets, student's income, and student's assets that are considered fair game for college expenses. Basically, half the student's after-tax income (after an annual allowance of about $2600) is expected to go to tuition, as is 1/3 of his assets. For the parents, it's a little more complicated because it depends on how many children you have, how many in college, how old the parents are, etc.
Saturday, September 29, 2007
Pray Without Ceasing
A conversation today touched on those similar words that aren't exactly alike. For example, nauseous is when something induces nausea, while nauseated is when you're experiencing nausea. [The smell of the septic tank backing up into the house is nauseous. I am nauseated by the thought of mandatory standardized testing of my grade-schoolers.] Another example was continuous versus continual. You eat continually, but your heart beats continuously -- well, except when you're subjected to open-heart surgery, but that's another topic. A mnemonic device to help with that one is "-ous" stands for "one uninterrupted sequence." Of course, in ADD-ish fashion, we jumped from continual/continuous to another example, "pray without ceasing."
I know that some people take 1 Thessalonians 5:17 as a command. They are to pray without ceasing. They take this so literally that they try to train themselves to pray subconsciously so that they can obey the command.
Personally, I really like the Jesus prayer. I probably pray it more than I do the Our Father. But it very much bothers me that those who promote the Jesus Prayer do so for legalistic reasons.
In Luke 18, Jesus tells a parable "that men ought always to pray and never lose heart." Then He goes on to tell us about the persistent widow and the unjust judge. Interestingly, the KJV and NKJV say that the judge complains, "lest by her continual coming she weary me." Was this lady banging on the judge's door day and night, every day, for days on end? Or did she come every day and pester him again?
When Jesus says men ought "always to pray," does He mean that we should pray 60 seconds per minute, 60 minutes per hour, 24 hours per day? Or does He mean we should not give up on our prayers when it appears our Lord does not hear us? Does Jesus mean prayer every day, several times a day? Or does He set down a law of perpetual subconscious meditation so that we can follow a supposed rule of "praying without ceasing"?
I know that some people take 1 Thessalonians 5:17 as a command. They are to pray without ceasing. They take this so literally that they try to train themselves to pray subconsciously so that they can obey the command.
Personally, I really like the Jesus prayer. I probably pray it more than I do the Our Father. But it very much bothers me that those who promote the Jesus Prayer do so for legalistic reasons.
In Luke 18, Jesus tells a parable "that men ought always to pray and never lose heart." Then He goes on to tell us about the persistent widow and the unjust judge. Interestingly, the KJV and NKJV say that the judge complains, "lest by her continual coming she weary me." Was this lady banging on the judge's door day and night, every day, for days on end? Or did she come every day and pester him again?
When Jesus says men ought "always to pray," does He mean that we should pray 60 seconds per minute, 60 minutes per hour, 24 hours per day? Or does He mean we should not give up on our prayers when it appears our Lord does not hear us? Does Jesus mean prayer every day, several times a day? Or does He set down a law of perpetual subconscious meditation so that we can follow a supposed rule of "praying without ceasing"?
Reading Aloud
Rather frequently, my kids come up with things that amaze me. They remember details from stories. They remember trivia. They make connections between different sets of information.
Given what I've observed about their memory and comprehension and problem-solving, I am thinking that it's due to the amount of reading aloud we do together. So often, my husband and I need to see words on a page to actually understand them, but the kids can hear the words and benefit more than we could from just hearing, and often benefit more (just by hearing) than I can by listening AND looking at the words both.
It would be really interesting to do some research on families who do 10-15 hours per week of read-alouds, and compare those families to ones who read aloud together only 2 hours per week. No, it would have to be less than that. Even 15 minutes of reading aloud per day would do good things for young brains. It would be interesting to look at families who read 10 hours/week and those who read less than 1 hour/week ... well beyond the time the kids learn to read for themselves. I'm not talking about reading aloud to 4 year olds; I'm talking about reading aloud to 14 year olds.
I sometimes wonder how much we could improve people's thinking skills, memory, and comprehension if we would just delay the teaching of reading until age 10 at the earliest. What would happen to education in this country if half the schoolday could involve the class reading good books (not textbooks!) aloud and discussing them?
Given what I've observed about their memory and comprehension and problem-solving, I am thinking that it's due to the amount of reading aloud we do together. So often, my husband and I need to see words on a page to actually understand them, but the kids can hear the words and benefit more than we could from just hearing, and often benefit more (just by hearing) than I can by listening AND looking at the words both.
It would be really interesting to do some research on families who do 10-15 hours per week of read-alouds, and compare those families to ones who read aloud together only 2 hours per week. No, it would have to be less than that. Even 15 minutes of reading aloud per day would do good things for young brains. It would be interesting to look at families who read 10 hours/week and those who read less than 1 hour/week ... well beyond the time the kids learn to read for themselves. I'm not talking about reading aloud to 4 year olds; I'm talking about reading aloud to 14 year olds.
I sometimes wonder how much we could improve people's thinking skills, memory, and comprehension if we would just delay the teaching of reading until age 10 at the earliest. What would happen to education in this country if half the schoolday could involve the class reading good books (not textbooks!) aloud and discussing them?
Friday, September 28, 2007
Fellowship
Okay, I admit it: this is a pet peeve. But I justify my peevishness in that this error can sometimes make a big difference in theology. Not always, but often.
Fellowship is not about bowling leagues and throwing darts. Fellowship is not about potlucks and helping with fund-raisers.
Fellowship is something that happens primarily at the altar. We are made one with Christ by eating His body and drinking His blood. In this way we are also united to one another. Fellowship is also seen in our praying together "Our Father" because we are united in the Creed which we confess jointly. Fellowship is when we say "Amen: yes, yes, it shall be so" to the same sermon. Fellowship is when we study the Bible together and pray Matins together.
It really doesn't matter a hill o' beans whether I like you or not. Fellowship isn't about liking each other. Fellowship isn't about doing things together. It is about the love of Christ claiming us, and that we are made one body.
Now, it so happens that when we pray together, sing hymns together, say "amen" to the same doctrine, and (of course!) commune together,
we will grow in affection for each other. We may play even softball together, eat birthday cake together, go to movies together, and visit each other in the hospital. But those things are an outgrowth of true fellowship. They are never the cause of fellowship. If a church wants more of the friendliness and chumminess, it ain't gonna find it by focusing on activities and friendliness. It ain't gonna find fellowship by serving coffee and donuts. When the people are bonded together by the apostles' doctrine and the "fellowship" (that is, the liturgy and the Holy Communion)* then the chumminess and friendliness will follow. And we might even enjoy donuts together on a Sunday morning too.
* See Acts 2:42.
Fellowship is not about bowling leagues and throwing darts. Fellowship is not about potlucks and helping with fund-raisers.
Fellowship is something that happens primarily at the altar. We are made one with Christ by eating His body and drinking His blood. In this way we are also united to one another. Fellowship is also seen in our praying together "Our Father" because we are united in the Creed which we confess jointly. Fellowship is when we say "Amen: yes, yes, it shall be so" to the same sermon. Fellowship is when we study the Bible together and pray Matins together.
It really doesn't matter a hill o' beans whether I like you or not. Fellowship isn't about liking each other. Fellowship isn't about doing things together. It is about the love of Christ claiming us, and that we are made one body.
Now, it so happens that when we pray together, sing hymns together, say "amen" to the same doctrine, and (of course!) commune together,
we will grow in affection for each other. We may play even softball together, eat birthday cake together, go to movies together, and visit each other in the hospital. But those things are an outgrowth of true fellowship. They are never the cause of fellowship. If a church wants more of the friendliness and chumminess, it ain't gonna find it by focusing on activities and friendliness. It ain't gonna find fellowship by serving coffee and donuts. When the people are bonded together by the apostles' doctrine and the "fellowship" (that is, the liturgy and the Holy Communion)* then the chumminess and friendliness will follow. And we might even enjoy donuts together on a Sunday morning too.
* See Acts 2:42.
Merchant of Venice
When we saw Much Ado About Nothing two weeks, I thought it was really really good. But if I could go back one more time before the end of the year, it would be to see Merchant. It was so awesome! It plays in Milwaukee the last weekend in October, and in Whitewater on October 23.
The notes in the program seemed to indicate that the play was about anti-Semitism. I think the play was about living by mercy versus living under the law. Those who live by the law will die by the law.
Katie and Rachel will be amused by one of David's comments before the show. This year he's putting on his make-up on-stage for about 20 minutes before the play starts, answering questions people have. When he came out onto the stage, our family applauded wildly. He looked up and said, "Oh. It's you folks. What would I expect?" Yippee! David knows I'm one of his groupies! Anyway, back to the comment... In answer to a question about the difficulty of learning his lines, David was saying that it was easy except for his ADD distractibility. (No wonder I liked that man right off the bat! He thinks like I do!) He said people have suspected that he's really ADHD, but he could never sit still long enough for a test to diagnose him as such!
Oh, and also to taunt my daughters.... we went to the General Store for lunch and Colleen and James came in with their son. Oh, he's cute! And jabbers!
The number of people in the talk-backs is growing, and the Q/A today was super. Some of the typical questions about stagefright and learning lines and favorite characters. But also lots of questions about character motivation and historical background. Very cool!
The notes in the program seemed to indicate that the play was about anti-Semitism. I think the play was about living by mercy versus living under the law. Those who live by the law will die by the law.
Katie and Rachel will be amused by one of David's comments before the show. This year he's putting on his make-up on-stage for about 20 minutes before the play starts, answering questions people have. When he came out onto the stage, our family applauded wildly. He looked up and said, "Oh. It's you folks. What would I expect?" Yippee! David knows I'm one of his groupies! Anyway, back to the comment... In answer to a question about the difficulty of learning his lines, David was saying that it was easy except for his ADD distractibility. (No wonder I liked that man right off the bat! He thinks like I do!) He said people have suspected that he's really ADHD, but he could never sit still long enough for a test to diagnose him as such!
Oh, and also to taunt my daughters.... we went to the General Store for lunch and Colleen and James came in with their son. Oh, he's cute! And jabbers!
The number of people in the talk-backs is growing, and the Q/A today was super. Some of the typical questions about stagefright and learning lines and favorite characters. But also lots of questions about character motivation and historical background. Very cool!
FIXED!
We have both propane AND plumbing. At the same time. A stove. A water-heater that's working on reheating the water in it. A furnace for when the nights get cold. Toilets that flush. Sinks and bathtubs that drain. A wash-machine.
Like my mom said a couple of days ago ....
living in the lap of luxury!
Like my mom said a couple of days ago ....
living in the lap of luxury!
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Picky
Somewhere in the Confessions (I'm too lazy to look it up right now) it says that the Holy Spirit comes only through the Word. God's Word is the only way we can know Him.
Jesus said (Luke 24) that is was necessary not only for the Christ to suffer and rise, but also that repentance and forgiveness be preached. That makes sense if the preaching is the only way we can know God.
Different words, different preaching
= different god.
So if two pastors disagree about doctrine, does make any sense at all for one to accuse the other of being "too picky about words"? I mean, hey, you might disagree. You might disagree vehemently. But if words are the only way we know God and know His anger at sin and know His heart of love, then doesn't it make sense that the WORDS we use to bespeak this doctrine are THE VERY THING WE SHOULD BE PICKY ABOUT? Can't people confront and discuss their differences without writing them off as "pickiness"?
(Shhhhhhh....
don't anybody mention
homo-ousios versus homoi-ousios.
Or Luther being stubborn about the word IS.
Shhhhh......)
Jesus said (Luke 24) that is was necessary not only for the Christ to suffer and rise, but also that repentance and forgiveness be preached. That makes sense if the preaching is the only way we can know God.
Different words, different preaching
= different god.
So if two pastors disagree about doctrine, does make any sense at all for one to accuse the other of being "too picky about words"? I mean, hey, you might disagree. You might disagree vehemently. But if words are the only way we know God and know His anger at sin and know His heart of love, then doesn't it make sense that the WORDS we use to bespeak this doctrine are THE VERY THING WE SHOULD BE PICKY ABOUT? Can't people confront and discuss their differences without writing them off as "pickiness"?
(Shhhhhhh....
don't anybody mention
homo-ousios versus homoi-ousios.
Or Luther being stubborn about the word IS.
Shhhhh......)
Happiness
The question was asked recently, "Is there anything that makes you happy?"
The kitten. The kitten exploring the dirt pile in the back yard. The kitten fiercely attacking moths and crickets. The kitten curled up in my lap purring.
Thursday morning Bible class.
Reading good stories aloud to the kids. I gotta dig into that stack of Freddy books that Rachel recently discovered for us.
Plays at APT. Tomorrow we see Merchant of Venice.
Editing Pastor Fabrizius's stuff.
Playing hymns on the piano.
Fruit smoothies.
Hearing the events in the lives of the kids who don't live here anymore.
Hotfresh bread with too much butter and honey.
Sunshine.
The pictures of Lily and Claire and Isabelle on Erin's blog (and their "stunts").
Funny movies. Especially romantic comedies. (Sorry, Anthea, but I ain't making you watch 'em.)
And a lot more....
The kitten. The kitten exploring the dirt pile in the back yard. The kitten fiercely attacking moths and crickets. The kitten curled up in my lap purring.
Thursday morning Bible class.
Reading good stories aloud to the kids. I gotta dig into that stack of Freddy books that Rachel recently discovered for us.
Plays at APT. Tomorrow we see Merchant of Venice.
Editing Pastor Fabrizius's stuff.
Playing hymns on the piano.
Fruit smoothies.
Hearing the events in the lives of the kids who don't live here anymore.
Hotfresh bread with too much butter and honey.
Sunshine.
The pictures of Lily and Claire and Isabelle on Erin's blog (and their "stunts").
Funny movies. Especially romantic comedies. (Sorry, Anthea, but I ain't making you watch 'em.)
And a lot more....
Skunk
This morning Gary saw the nasty critter who's ripping up the lawn. The guys at church said you can't shoot a skunk unless you've got super-precise aim. Don't wanna risk hitting the wrong part of the animal! I suspect a live trap would cause the same problems.
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Lunacy
If the repairman with the backhoe comes in trepidation to your door, full of apologies, and tells you that he cut your fuel line (because the fuel-company was WAY off when they marked the buried pipes),
if your response is to laugh because, of course, what ELSE would we expect (!!!),
are you still sane?
Or do you just pat yourself on the back for having had the foresight to tell all the kids to enjoy REAL showers last night?
if your response is to laugh because, of course, what ELSE would we expect (!!!),
are you still sane?
Or do you just pat yourself on the back for having had the foresight to tell all the kids to enjoy REAL showers last night?
New Glasses
The world seems to be getting fuzzier and fuzzier. Especially those stoplights at night! Since we're beginning to wonder how much longer we'll have health insurance, I decided I'd better make an appointment to see the eye doctor while it's still covered. Happily, he reported that my nearsightedness is the same in one eye, slightly improved in the other.
But he said I need bifocals.
WAAAAAAHHHH!
I don't want bifocals. I had a hard enough time adjusting to these new [smaller] glasses two years ago, where I can see out from under the lenses. And Gary was just totally sick to his stomach when he was trying to adjust to bifocals. When he was so miserable with his new glasses, even after weeks of trying to adjust, I decided I was going to get reading glasses for years until I was thoroughly disgusted with the switching back and and forth and just couldn't take it anymore.
I now have on order a nice pair of Harry Potter frames with little-old-lady lenses in them. They're actually pretty cute. And unlike a couple of guys I know, my reading glasses and regular glasses look different enough that I'll know which is which.
Y'know, if they hadn't changed the hymnal on me, I wouldn't be struggling with my "new" [aka "two-yr-old"] glasses, and I wouldn't be in need of bifocals now. But nooooo.... they had to sneak new words into my hymnal just when my eyes get too old to change their focus. [mumble crab grouse murmur complain]
But he said I need bifocals.
WAAAAAAHHHH!
I don't want bifocals. I had a hard enough time adjusting to these new [smaller] glasses two years ago, where I can see out from under the lenses. And Gary was just totally sick to his stomach when he was trying to adjust to bifocals. When he was so miserable with his new glasses, even after weeks of trying to adjust, I decided I was going to get reading glasses for years until I was thoroughly disgusted with the switching back and and forth and just couldn't take it anymore.
I now have on order a nice pair of Harry Potter frames with little-old-lady lenses in them. They're actually pretty cute. And unlike a couple of guys I know, my reading glasses and regular glasses look different enough that I'll know which is which.
Y'know, if they hadn't changed the hymnal on me, I wouldn't be struggling with my "new" [aka "two-yr-old"] glasses, and I wouldn't be in need of bifocals now. But nooooo.... they had to sneak new words into my hymnal just when my eyes get too old to change their focus. [mumble crab grouse murmur complain]
Restaurant Demographics
We had library books due, and the propane tank still hadn't shown up by dinner-time Tuesday. So we decided to splurge and go out to eat. We chose Old Country Buffet because of the variety and the amount of fruits and veggies... and because we still had a little credit left on a gift-card from Christmas a few years ago.
11:30 a.m. on a weekday. The place was FULL of senior citizens. There were a few people our age, all of them Hispanic. Not a blond in the restaurant anywhere: just our brown hair, the black of the other young people, and lots and lots of gray. Not only that, but we had children there, outside the confines of school. What on earth was the matter with us, out in the middle of the day, crashing the seniors' restaurant??? LOL!
11:30 a.m. on a weekday. The place was FULL of senior citizens. There were a few people our age, all of them Hispanic. Not a blond in the restaurant anywhere: just our brown hair, the black of the other young people, and lots and lots of gray. Not only that, but we had children there, outside the confines of school. What on earth was the matter with us, out in the middle of the day, crashing the seniors' restaurant??? LOL!
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Singing in Church
Sometimes people don't want to sing out in church. They mumble their way through the congregational responses -- whether spoken or sung. They sing with a subdued voice during the hymns and canticles. When nobody else is singing (or the acoustics are so bad that it seems that no one else is singing) it is very discouraging for people, and we often have the tendency to pull back so we don't stick out. But then it just cycles worse and worse: there are fewer people singing because they hear fewer people singing, which makes the singing even less, etc.
My pastor has told us many a time how important it is that we sing out in church, and that we speak the responses full-voiced. There are people in church with us who are grieving the loss of loved ones, and people who are enduring satanic attacks, and people who are depressed, and people who are struggling with family problems, and they may be unable to sing because of the depth of emotion goin' on there. It is our ministry to our needy brothers to sing for them. They need to hear the congregation singing when they can't. They need people praying those words for them when they are too weak and too beaten down. And you experience that for yourself when you are trying to sing, but the tears choke your own voice, and you need your neighbor singing those words when you cannot.
"Speaking to one another in psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs" is most concretely done in the Divine Service. "The mutual conversation and consolation of the brethren" is something that is done obviously and frequently as we speak and sing in the Divine Service.
I regularly attend two congregations that have very very different personalities, so I've observed something. Forget for just a moment that the main reason we each go to church (and participate) is because of what God does for me there, what He does to save me and love me. There's also something else that I have become quite aware of in the last several years. I am greatly encouraged in the Faith when I am at church with others who yearn to be there, others who sing and participate, others who desire to soak up the Word of Forgiveness. It is discouraging to our neighbor and makes light of the importance of his faith when we choose not to participate in worship. When we attend church weekly, and go to Bible class, and sing in church loud enough for our neighbor to hear, that is one of the greatest ministries we are privileged to engage in.
Now, I don't think pointing this out to a mumbler is going to encourage him/her to sing out. It would probably be a law-motivation to do so, anyhow. ("Hey, buster, you'd better sing so that you can do your duty for your neighbor!") We participate in church because what's being said and sung is our life and strength, without which we're done for. But if people believe that the liturgy and the hymns are their very sustenance and life, annnd if it's also pointed out to them how much it means to the little old lady in front of us to hear our voices, who knows, maybe the love in them for their neighbor might move them to "preach" God's word (by singing out the hymns and liturgy full-voice) to their fellow worshipers.
My pastor has told us many a time how important it is that we sing out in church, and that we speak the responses full-voiced. There are people in church with us who are grieving the loss of loved ones, and people who are enduring satanic attacks, and people who are depressed, and people who are struggling with family problems, and they may be unable to sing because of the depth of emotion goin' on there. It is our ministry to our needy brothers to sing for them. They need to hear the congregation singing when they can't. They need people praying those words for them when they are too weak and too beaten down. And you experience that for yourself when you are trying to sing, but the tears choke your own voice, and you need your neighbor singing those words when you cannot.
"Speaking to one another in psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs" is most concretely done in the Divine Service. "The mutual conversation and consolation of the brethren" is something that is done obviously and frequently as we speak and sing in the Divine Service.
I regularly attend two congregations that have very very different personalities, so I've observed something. Forget for just a moment that the main reason we each go to church (and participate) is because of what God does for me there, what He does to save me and love me. There's also something else that I have become quite aware of in the last several years. I am greatly encouraged in the Faith when I am at church with others who yearn to be there, others who sing and participate, others who desire to soak up the Word of Forgiveness. It is discouraging to our neighbor and makes light of the importance of his faith when we choose not to participate in worship. When we attend church weekly, and go to Bible class, and sing in church loud enough for our neighbor to hear, that is one of the greatest ministries we are privileged to engage in.
Now, I don't think pointing this out to a mumbler is going to encourage him/her to sing out. It would probably be a law-motivation to do so, anyhow. ("Hey, buster, you'd better sing so that you can do your duty for your neighbor!") We participate in church because what's being said and sung is our life and strength, without which we're done for. But if people believe that the liturgy and the hymns are their very sustenance and life, annnd if it's also pointed out to them how much it means to the little old lady in front of us to hear our voices, who knows, maybe the love in them for their neighbor might move them to "preach" God's word (by singing out the hymns and liturgy full-voice) to their fellow worshipers.
Ease
I baked bread tonight. I didn't have to go out in the rain to do it. I only had to walk six measly feet to flip the dial to preheat the oven -- instead of 600'.
I baked a pie tonight. I knew how hot the oven would be, without having to make wild guesses as to the accuracy of the church's oven dial. We sniffed the lovely aroma of the cherries as they baked. I could be washing dishes while continuing to check the doneness-level of the pie, or helping Paul with his ACT registration, instead of standing at church doing nothing while I waited the last 10-15 minutes for the pie to finish.
And some hungry boys needed a quick supper. So I grabbed a package of hamburger, nuked it to thaw, and slapped some hamburgers into the skillet on the stove top.
OH, I LOVE HAVING A STOVE!!!
I baked a pie tonight. I knew how hot the oven would be, without having to make wild guesses as to the accuracy of the church's oven dial. We sniffed the lovely aroma of the cherries as they baked. I could be washing dishes while continuing to check the doneness-level of the pie, or helping Paul with his ACT registration, instead of standing at church doing nothing while I waited the last 10-15 minutes for the pie to finish.
And some hungry boys needed a quick supper. So I grabbed a package of hamburger, nuked it to thaw, and slapped some hamburgers into the skillet on the stove top.
OH, I LOVE HAVING A STOVE!!!
Monday, September 24, 2007
Acoustics in Church
Four years ago, the Higher Things youth conference was held in Arlington TX. The speaker was great; the sessions were great; the entertainment was great. Some people had mixed feelings about the worship.
The conference organizers didn't have access to a nice big church. Worship was held in a huge box-shaped conference room. The singing and participation wasn't what it had been in years past. Some of the chaperones were complaining about the liturgical worship and the choices of strong hymnody. They said it was too hard for the kids, or uninteresting for the kids. But at previous conferences, the liturgical worship was deeply appreciated -- the high point of the conference for most attendees. So what was up with the changed attitudes?
On the next-to-last evening of the conference, Vespers was held in a rather bizarre location. Thursday was spent at Six Flags, riding roller coasters, eating junk food, riding roller coasters, foisting MORE water on kids so they wouldn't get dehydrated, and then riding a couple more roller coasters. In betwixt all those roller coasters, the whole 1000 of us took over one of the show palaces. As soon as the pop music and light show and dancing was done, those Lutherans rushed into the place, set up an altar and lectern, covered over most of the wild decorations, got everyone seated, and began to pray.
We'd been skeptical. Having prayers in this place? Would it work? How distracting would it be?
But it turned out to be one of the best services of the conference. Not in spite of the location, but because of it. The acoustics were ideal. After all, the place was built for musicals and entertainment. The architects for Six Flags knew how important it was for the sound to carry, how important it was for the words to be clearly heard, how important it was for the singers to preserve their voices for show after show each day.
When you put 1000 Lutheran youth into that building to pray vespers and sing their hymns, the sound was awesome! Those kids did love the liturgy and the hymns. They did sing out.
It wasn't the kids' attitudes that caused the apparent lack of enthusiasm for worship earlier in the week. It was the acoustics of the building which had dampened the sound. The lousy acoustics made it seem that "nobody else was singing" and nobody else cared, and that the worship should've been different so that it could "appeal to" the kids.
Before that week, I'd always thought acoustics in church was a hoity-toity thing, important only to artsy musicians and persnicketty perfectionists. That evening, in the show palace at Six Flags, I learned otherwise. Acoustics in a church matters to everyone -- even if they know nothing about music and/or acoustics. Good acoustics in a church make it possible for the congregation to support each other in their prayers, as well as making it possible for the sound to carry so that more people can hear the readings and the preaching. Poor acoustics in church make you feel like you're there alone, singing alone, praying alone. And that's not good for the body.
The conference organizers didn't have access to a nice big church. Worship was held in a huge box-shaped conference room. The singing and participation wasn't what it had been in years past. Some of the chaperones were complaining about the liturgical worship and the choices of strong hymnody. They said it was too hard for the kids, or uninteresting for the kids. But at previous conferences, the liturgical worship was deeply appreciated -- the high point of the conference for most attendees. So what was up with the changed attitudes?
On the next-to-last evening of the conference, Vespers was held in a rather bizarre location. Thursday was spent at Six Flags, riding roller coasters, eating junk food, riding roller coasters, foisting MORE water on kids so they wouldn't get dehydrated, and then riding a couple more roller coasters. In betwixt all those roller coasters, the whole 1000 of us took over one of the show palaces. As soon as the pop music and light show and dancing was done, those Lutherans rushed into the place, set up an altar and lectern, covered over most of the wild decorations, got everyone seated, and began to pray.
We'd been skeptical. Having prayers in this place? Would it work? How distracting would it be?
But it turned out to be one of the best services of the conference. Not in spite of the location, but because of it. The acoustics were ideal. After all, the place was built for musicals and entertainment. The architects for Six Flags knew how important it was for the sound to carry, how important it was for the words to be clearly heard, how important it was for the singers to preserve their voices for show after show each day.
When you put 1000 Lutheran youth into that building to pray vespers and sing their hymns, the sound was awesome! Those kids did love the liturgy and the hymns. They did sing out.
It wasn't the kids' attitudes that caused the apparent lack of enthusiasm for worship earlier in the week. It was the acoustics of the building which had dampened the sound. The lousy acoustics made it seem that "nobody else was singing" and nobody else cared, and that the worship should've been different so that it could "appeal to" the kids.
Before that week, I'd always thought acoustics in church was a hoity-toity thing, important only to artsy musicians and persnicketty perfectionists. That evening, in the show palace at Six Flags, I learned otherwise. Acoustics in a church matters to everyone -- even if they know nothing about music and/or acoustics. Good acoustics in a church make it possible for the congregation to support each other in their prayers, as well as making it possible for the sound to carry so that more people can hear the readings and the preaching. Poor acoustics in church make you feel like you're there alone, singing alone, praying alone. And that's not good for the body.
Sanitation
From the "Things I Didn't Want to Learn" file.
:-)
When you throw your dishwater out the back door, you get critters. Buggy critters as well as mammal critters. Mammal critters who dig holes in your yard, looking for whatever food it is they think must be around, since they're smelling the little bits of starch and grease that came off the plates into the dishwater. Besides the holes in the yard, those critters leave piles of poop. Which draws flies. It's really really nice to be able to drain your dishwater down pipes leading to the sewer or septic!
We've been told "When it's yellow, let it mellow. When it's brown, flush it down." Well, we have been using the toilets at church most of the time. But even the "mellowing" overnight can get mega-stinky. And you get bugs in the house when you do that! Yuck! I think I've heard that they used to sprinkle ashes in the outhouses after each use, to keep down the bugs and the odors. Can't sprinkle ashes in an indoor toilet with pipes, though.
I don't know what's up with the kitchen sink. It smells so bad. I'm wondering if it's because of dumping so much of the dishwater outdoors. Or it might be due to the septic-system still awaiting repair. I noticed that the sink was getting pretty grungy, without having hot soapy water in it a lot. Finally I just DID IT -- I hauled out the Ajax and scrubbed the sink, even though lots of water had to go down the drain. That helped, but didn't solve the problem. Smells like my kitchen sink has dead stuff rotting in it. Yuck!
We've also recently noticed the glories of hot water in the shower. The knots in a person's neck and back can be much alleviated by the hot water running over one's back daily. Bursitis can be helped by the hot water. Snotty sinus cavities can be helped by the hot water. Infection can be drawn out by soaking a sore in hot water. I'm beginning to see why doctors in past centuries would prescribe a vacation to a place where there were hot springs. Sometimes hot water (in copious amounts) can do wondrous things for your health that pills can only approximate. It makes you wonder how people plugged away hundreds of years ago, doing much more physical labor than we do today, but without the daily hot baths/showers to reduce the pain. (We're such wusses.)
I'm beginning to see recently how the plumbing we take for granted isn't just about convenience and comfort, but about health too!
:-)
When you throw your dishwater out the back door, you get critters. Buggy critters as well as mammal critters. Mammal critters who dig holes in your yard, looking for whatever food it is they think must be around, since they're smelling the little bits of starch and grease that came off the plates into the dishwater. Besides the holes in the yard, those critters leave piles of poop. Which draws flies. It's really really nice to be able to drain your dishwater down pipes leading to the sewer or septic!
We've been told "When it's yellow, let it mellow. When it's brown, flush it down." Well, we have been using the toilets at church most of the time. But even the "mellowing" overnight can get mega-stinky. And you get bugs in the house when you do that! Yuck! I think I've heard that they used to sprinkle ashes in the outhouses after each use, to keep down the bugs and the odors. Can't sprinkle ashes in an indoor toilet with pipes, though.
I don't know what's up with the kitchen sink. It smells so bad. I'm wondering if it's because of dumping so much of the dishwater outdoors. Or it might be due to the septic-system still awaiting repair. I noticed that the sink was getting pretty grungy, without having hot soapy water in it a lot. Finally I just DID IT -- I hauled out the Ajax and scrubbed the sink, even though lots of water had to go down the drain. That helped, but didn't solve the problem. Smells like my kitchen sink has dead stuff rotting in it. Yuck!
We've also recently noticed the glories of hot water in the shower. The knots in a person's neck and back can be much alleviated by the hot water running over one's back daily. Bursitis can be helped by the hot water. Snotty sinus cavities can be helped by the hot water. Infection can be drawn out by soaking a sore in hot water. I'm beginning to see why doctors in past centuries would prescribe a vacation to a place where there were hot springs. Sometimes hot water (in copious amounts) can do wondrous things for your health that pills can only approximate. It makes you wonder how people plugged away hundreds of years ago, doing much more physical labor than we do today, but without the daily hot baths/showers to reduce the pain. (We're such wusses.)
I'm beginning to see recently how the plumbing we take for granted isn't just about convenience and comfort, but about health too!
Sunday, September 23, 2007
They Stood Still
A sermon I heard this morning was about Jesus' compassion to us who ache because of death, and how He took the death and the illness and the separation into Himself so as to give us life and health and communion. And I appreciated the sweet words. I did! And I listened with part of my brain.
But the other part was noticing the fact that those who were carrying the coffin stood still. They stood still and saw the Lord's salvation of this one man. Well, this man and his mother.
And when you look at Exodus 14, one of the lines the Israelites use to sass Moses was about "Weren't there any graves in Egypt that you had to bring us out here to die?" And these guys in Luke's story were on their way to the graveyard.
And the crowd in Luke's story proclaimed Jesus to be a great prophet when He stretched out His hand and brought salvation. Just like Moses was known as the great prophet -- Moses who stretched out his hand over the Red Sea.
In the Exodus story, Jesus stood between the Israelites and the Egyptians all night, protecting His people from their enemies. In the Luke story, Jesus interfered between this man and death, driving back his death.
Now, some of my friends who are pastors like to make a connection between this story and the story of another Son who was carried to His burial and who was raised. So I figured I must be having wacky thoughts to be seeing all these connections to the story of the exodus. But maybe it's not so wacky. Maybe the story of the exodus IS actually another aspect of the story of the Son who died and was raised again. "How holy is this night when innocence is restored to the fallen, and joy is given to those downcast!"
But the other part was noticing the fact that those who were carrying the coffin stood still. They stood still and saw the Lord's salvation of this one man. Well, this man and his mother.
And when you look at Exodus 14, one of the lines the Israelites use to sass Moses was about "Weren't there any graves in Egypt that you had to bring us out here to die?" And these guys in Luke's story were on their way to the graveyard.
And the crowd in Luke's story proclaimed Jesus to be a great prophet when He stretched out His hand and brought salvation. Just like Moses was known as the great prophet -- Moses who stretched out his hand over the Red Sea.
In the Exodus story, Jesus stood between the Israelites and the Egyptians all night, protecting His people from their enemies. In the Luke story, Jesus interfered between this man and death, driving back his death.
Now, some of my friends who are pastors like to make a connection between this story and the story of another Son who was carried to His burial and who was raised. So I figured I must be having wacky thoughts to be seeing all these connections to the story of the exodus. But maybe it's not so wacky. Maybe the story of the exodus IS actually another aspect of the story of the Son who died and was raised again. "How holy is this night when innocence is restored to the fallen, and joy is given to those downcast!"
Calendar
The Fellowship of St James puts out a lovely calendar for the church year. It includes many many saints days. It includes feast days according to both the Eastern and Western calendars. There is usually a brief quote from a church father, chosen to fit with the month's artwork. Most months also include little snippets of information; this month's was about themes from the Jewish calendar being carried over into the Christian calendar (such as Yom Kippur and Holy Cross Day).
Each month's art typically fits with the church year. The pictures are most often woodcuts, but not always. This calendar is not good for keeping track of appointments; there's not enough writing space in the little boxes. But other than that, it's quite a find. And it's affordable. But it would be more affordable if you can find a neighbor who wants one too, and you can piggy-back your orders.
Each month's art typically fits with the church year. The pictures are most often woodcuts, but not always. This calendar is not good for keeping track of appointments; there's not enough writing space in the little boxes. But other than that, it's quite a find. And it's affordable. But it would be more affordable if you can find a neighbor who wants one too, and you can piggy-back your orders.
The Gospel
I decided during this morning's Gospel reading (the story of the raising of the son of the widow of Nain) that the "John 3:16" of the Old Testament might be Exodus 14:13-14.
I know that the first promise (Genesis 3:15) is considered one of the prime passages from the beginning of time. And I don't mean to diminish it's importance.
But look at this passage from the constituative event in the history of God's people:
[At the Red Sea] Moses said to the people,
"Do not be afraid. Stand still, and see the salvation of the Lord, which He will accomplish for you today. For the Egyptians whom you see today, you shall see again no more forever. The Lord will fight for you, and you shall hold your peace."
If I remember right, that's used at the Easter Vigil, connecting it to the ultimate salvation of the Lord. And if I'm wrong, and it's not one of the readings, it's still at the Easter Vigil in: "This is the night when you brought our fathers, the children of Israel, out of bondage in Egypt, and led them through the Red Sea on dry ground."
I know that the first promise (Genesis 3:15) is considered one of the prime passages from the beginning of time. And I don't mean to diminish it's importance.
But look at this passage from the constituative event in the history of God's people:
[At the Red Sea] Moses said to the people,
"Do not be afraid. Stand still, and see the salvation of the Lord, which He will accomplish for you today. For the Egyptians whom you see today, you shall see again no more forever. The Lord will fight for you, and you shall hold your peace."
If I remember right, that's used at the Easter Vigil, connecting it to the ultimate salvation of the Lord. And if I'm wrong, and it's not one of the readings, it's still at the Easter Vigil in: "This is the night when you brought our fathers, the children of Israel, out of bondage in Egypt, and led them through the Red Sea on dry ground."
The Long Winter
At the end of a very long, hard, blizzardy winter, the people of DeSmet were much relieved to feel the warm winds of the Chinook. They rejoiced over the melting snow and the arrival of spring. But it took another whole month before the railroad tracks were cleared of snow, such that the trains could finally make it through with supplies. They knew the end of the problem had arrived. They knew winter had been defeated. And yet, their rescue had not come to fruition.
(Come to think of it, this is not unlike Christ's death winning the victory, while we continue on in this valley of sorrow until the rescue comes to fruition in our own deaths or the end of the world.)
Church's fund-raiser yesterday brought in enough money to pay the fuel bill from last winter. So we can ask our propane-supplier to bring us a tankful. This means we'll have a stove. This means our hot water heater will work. This means we can bathe and do laundry without boiling water on the stove at church. This means that when the next cold snap comes, we'll have a furance that works. This is good news.
However, we're still waiting to know when this will happen. The money is there. But will the company bring us fuel just because we say "the check is in the mail" (even though it really would be)? Will we need to drive the check to them (a two-hour round-trip)? Will they send out a truck to fill our propane tank, with the promise that we'll give the check to the driver? Even though the money is there and we can buy propane now, it will be late Monday at the earliest, or even as late as Friday (hopefully no later!), before we actually experience the joys of turning on the hot water faucet again.
And I'm really really looking forward to the ease of cooking in one kitchen instead of shuttling between two. Besides that, the church kitchen is currently unusuable due to flies. I'm not a neat freak. I do naughty things: I eat food off the floor. Yesterday my friend Kathy rolled her eyes when she caught me grabbing a dirty glass out of her sink instead of getting a clean one out of the cupboard. The day before, Kathy rolled her eyes as she caught me eating olives off kids' plates after they'd finished their pizza. But even I get the heebie-jeebies, thinking about cooking in a kitchen so disgustingly filled with flies. (I am going to HAVE to go get bug-bombs for church soon.)
(Come to think of it, this is not unlike Christ's death winning the victory, while we continue on in this valley of sorrow until the rescue comes to fruition in our own deaths or the end of the world.)
Church's fund-raiser yesterday brought in enough money to pay the fuel bill from last winter. So we can ask our propane-supplier to bring us a tankful. This means we'll have a stove. This means our hot water heater will work. This means we can bathe and do laundry without boiling water on the stove at church. This means that when the next cold snap comes, we'll have a furance that works. This is good news.
However, we're still waiting to know when this will happen. The money is there. But will the company bring us fuel just because we say "the check is in the mail" (even though it really would be)? Will we need to drive the check to them (a two-hour round-trip)? Will they send out a truck to fill our propane tank, with the promise that we'll give the check to the driver? Even though the money is there and we can buy propane now, it will be late Monday at the earliest, or even as late as Friday (hopefully no later!), before we actually experience the joys of turning on the hot water faucet again.
And I'm really really looking forward to the ease of cooking in one kitchen instead of shuttling between two. Besides that, the church kitchen is currently unusuable due to flies. I'm not a neat freak. I do naughty things: I eat food off the floor. Yesterday my friend Kathy rolled her eyes when she caught me grabbing a dirty glass out of her sink instead of getting a clean one out of the cupboard. The day before, Kathy rolled her eyes as she caught me eating olives off kids' plates after they'd finished their pizza. But even I get the heebie-jeebies, thinking about cooking in a kitchen so disgustingly filled with flies. (I am going to HAVE to go get bug-bombs for church soon.)
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Pew Cushions
The roof at my father-confessor's church is being redone. Crunchy stuff keeps falling down in the nave. You can't really see it come down, but it's crunchy when you walk. And the hymnals have a fine powder on them. That's why the pew cushions were removed -- to ease clean-up.
Oh my goodness! The organ sounds wonderful! The chanting sounds wonderful! The congregational singing sounds wonderful! I never imagined that those pew cushions (which aren't even on the back of the pews, but just the seats) could make so much difference!
Oh my goodness! The organ sounds wonderful! The chanting sounds wonderful! The congregational singing sounds wonderful! I never imagined that those pew cushions (which aren't even on the back of the pews, but just the seats) could make so much difference!
Kitchen
You know what? It is immensely inconvenient to have your cupboard/pantry/refrigerator about 300' from your stove/sink.
The septic system was hogging our attention as the problem. And then we discovered that our propane tank is nearly empty. The gauge reads "zero," but we don't smell the skunk oil that lurks in the very dredges of the tank. Not yet. So no heat. (I am so glad for these nice warm days!) Not until the bill from last winter gets paid. But it also means I have to cook over at church. It's not easy to drag everything back and forth. But as long as I can use the stove at church and as long as I can boil water over there to use in the wash machine over here, we can stretch out the propane so as to (hopefully!) have hot water for bathing until the propane company consents to fill our tank.
By the time dinner was nearly cooked today, it crossed my mind that maybe we should just knuckle under and eat out. Then I realized that for our family to eat two meals at a low- to average-priced restaurant, we would have to spend more than Gary earns in a day. That just doesn't seem like a good use of funds.
I keep telling myself that all sorts of people struggle along without a kitchen now and then, such as during a remodeling project. But people who can afford a remodeling project can probably also afford to eat out sometimes. And people who are remodeling a kitchen still have a bathroom where dishes can be washed in hot water .... with a drain to remove the water from the house! (Ain't it amazing how a little Doing Without makes you appreciate the mundane?!?) I keep telling myself that we could make do with electric skillets and crockpots, but even with that, I'd have to be cooking in the bedrooms to avoid overloading the wiring in the kitchen and dining room which is so wacky.
Is this what we call "Making Memories"? LOL!
The septic system was hogging our attention as the problem. And then we discovered that our propane tank is nearly empty. The gauge reads "zero," but we don't smell the skunk oil that lurks in the very dredges of the tank. Not yet. So no heat. (I am so glad for these nice warm days!) Not until the bill from last winter gets paid. But it also means I have to cook over at church. It's not easy to drag everything back and forth. But as long as I can use the stove at church and as long as I can boil water over there to use in the wash machine over here, we can stretch out the propane so as to (hopefully!) have hot water for bathing until the propane company consents to fill our tank.
By the time dinner was nearly cooked today, it crossed my mind that maybe we should just knuckle under and eat out. Then I realized that for our family to eat two meals at a low- to average-priced restaurant, we would have to spend more than Gary earns in a day. That just doesn't seem like a good use of funds.
I keep telling myself that all sorts of people struggle along without a kitchen now and then, such as during a remodeling project. But people who can afford a remodeling project can probably also afford to eat out sometimes. And people who are remodeling a kitchen still have a bathroom where dishes can be washed in hot water .... with a drain to remove the water from the house! (Ain't it amazing how a little Doing Without makes you appreciate the mundane?!?) I keep telling myself that we could make do with electric skillets and crockpots, but even with that, I'd have to be cooking in the bedrooms to avoid overloading the wiring in the kitchen and dining room which is so wacky.
Is this what we call "Making Memories"? LOL!
Pastor Prowatske
The funeral is on Saturday. Of course, we care about his wife and daughter and how much they must miss him, and we pray for their comfort. But it didn't hit me till Bible class this morning how much I will miss him. He didn't talk as much during class as certain other people do. But when he did, oh!, the sweet things he said. The insights. The exegetical help. Always pointing to the cross and what Christ has done for us.
And he loved his hymns and his hymnal. I doubt anyone but Pastor P and I would "accuse" Pastor Bender of not liking to sing. Sometimes we'd have a 15-stanza hymn for the hymn of the week, and Pastor would tell us which 4-5 stanzas we'd sing for prayers during Bible class. Then Pr Prowatske would protest that we should sing ALL the stanzas, and I'd agree. Or I'd say, "Hey, you can't leave out the 6th and the 9th & 10th!" And Pr P would back me up.
Pastor Prowatske said that they'd always sing every stanza of any hymn he chose for his congregation. His daughter liked that. I'd like that too!
We have no cause to mourn or weep.
Securely shall this body sleep
Till Christ Himself shall death destroy
And raise the blessed dead to joy.
For they who with Him suffered here
Shall there be healed from woe and fear.
And when eternal bliss is won,
They'll shine in glory like the sun.
And he loved his hymns and his hymnal. I doubt anyone but Pastor P and I would "accuse" Pastor Bender of not liking to sing. Sometimes we'd have a 15-stanza hymn for the hymn of the week, and Pastor would tell us which 4-5 stanzas we'd sing for prayers during Bible class. Then Pr Prowatske would protest that we should sing ALL the stanzas, and I'd agree. Or I'd say, "Hey, you can't leave out the 6th and the 9th & 10th!" And Pr P would back me up.
Pastor Prowatske said that they'd always sing every stanza of any hymn he chose for his congregation. His daughter liked that. I'd like that too!
We have no cause to mourn or weep.
Securely shall this body sleep
Till Christ Himself shall death destroy
And raise the blessed dead to joy.
For they who with Him suffered here
Shall there be healed from woe and fear.
And when eternal bliss is won,
They'll shine in glory like the sun.
Beach
Maggie started swimming lessons today. One of the local resorts is letting the Rec District use the hotel pool. Having never had her in swimming lessons before, we didn't know which level to choose. The teacher was impressed with her skills and suggested that she might be better off in the next level up. So next week we'll do that.
With its being such a pretty day and so nice and warm, we decided to stop by the beach on our way home. It was gorgeous. But ....
We discovered what a difference the daily grooming all summer makes. There was seaweed piled up along the shore. Normally that is raked away daily. The sand was not groomed, so there were some ant hills and there were gull droppings. During summer, those usually get disturbed and cleaned up daily. And on top of that, yowsa.... several chilly nights and one hard frost sure does make a big difference in the water temperature of the lake. Maggie swam for about ten minutes, and then couldn't take the cold any longer. That means it was too cold for me to even think about getting wet!
Summer will be back in just 9 more months.
With its being such a pretty day and so nice and warm, we decided to stop by the beach on our way home. It was gorgeous. But ....
We discovered what a difference the daily grooming all summer makes. There was seaweed piled up along the shore. Normally that is raked away daily. The sand was not groomed, so there were some ant hills and there were gull droppings. During summer, those usually get disturbed and cleaned up daily. And on top of that, yowsa.... several chilly nights and one hard frost sure does make a big difference in the water temperature of the lake. Maggie swam for about ten minutes, and then couldn't take the cold any longer. That means it was too cold for me to even think about getting wet!
Summer will be back in just 9 more months.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Update
For those of y'all who've asked:
No. My backyard is not ripped to shreds yet. No, the repairmen will not be here this week. The appointment is currently set for Wednesday the 26th.
At this point, we're ready to forego all the water-usage restrictions we've put on ourselves, and just go ahead and have the septic tank pumped however often it needs it. We can't go another full week or longer without being able to drain water from our home.
No. My backyard is not ripped to shreds yet. No, the repairmen will not be here this week. The appointment is currently set for Wednesday the 26th.
At this point, we're ready to forego all the water-usage restrictions we've put on ourselves, and just go ahead and have the septic tank pumped however often it needs it. We can't go another full week or longer without being able to drain water from our home.
Isaac
The Gospel this Sunday (in the one-year series) was from Matthew 6. Jesus invites us to look at how He takes care of everything He has made, and He promises that He will take care of us because we are so much more valuable than the birds and the flowers. Why worry when God is on our side, a God who daily and richly provides us with all that we need to support this body and life?
But then things get rocky. Maybe a person doesn't have plumbing, and thinks "woe is me." Maybe a person doesn't have heat in his home, and thinks God's falling down on the job of providing for him. Maybe a person doesn't have a steady (or sufficient) income, and frets over what the future holds.
And yet, Jesus promises to take care of us. So sometimes, through the power of the Absolution, a person may even have his little heart calmed from fear of what the future holds as far as temporal goods. After all, if you have no food or home, if you have no money, if your health is shot, "what can man do to me?" Jesus lives, and now is death but the gate of life immortal. To live is Christ, and to die is gain. The Lord gives; the Lord takes away; blessed be the name of the Lord.
But then,
sometimes,
there's another loss.
What happens when God withholds His word? (Or, at least, it appears that that is His plan.)
God promises to uphold us in the Faith. God promises to do this through the Word, and only through the Word. When it appears that God Himself is abandoning a person, when God Himself (who is Truth itself) is reneging on His promise, that makes the loss of income or home or family or friends or health seem like piddly little problems.
God had told Abraham for decades that He would send a Savior. A Savior that would come through Abraham's son. Nope, the heir of Abraham's house wasn't gonna be a good enough heir. Nope, Abraham's son by his quasi-wife wasn't gonna be the one either. It would be Isaac. THAT was the son who was the promised seed of Abraham.
Then God said, "Kill him."
We tend to look at that story and think about the obvious.
GOD said, "Kill him"??? But this God says, "You shall not murder." This God disapproves of human sacrifice. What's up with the "Kill him"??
We think of how much Abraham and Sarah loved their son. They love him as much as we love our children. When a child dies, the parents' heart is broken! How could they inflict that sort of pain on themselves?
But both those are temporal difficulties. BIG difficulties, to be sure. But still, temporal, earthly difficulties.
When God told Abraham to kill Isaac, that meant something even bigger. "I'm taking away My promise. I told you that I would send a Savior who would be the son of Isaac. Well, now I'm asking you to kill Isaac."
Think about what that meant to Abraham. For all reasonable intents and purposes, God was saying that He was changing His mind and not sending a Savior after all. No Savior for Abraham and Sarah. No Savior for the world. No atonement for sin. No way to restore communion with God.
The loss of the world's salvation and the loss of God Himself is a whole lot bigger deal eeeeven than the loss of one's dearly beloved child. But any reasonable person could see that that was the consequence of killing the son through whom the promised salvation would come.
But even when it appeared incontrovertible that God was going back on His promise, He wasn't. And Abraham trusted that God knew what He was doing. God grant us to trust Him even when there's evidence that He "doesn't care."
Zion mourns in fear and anguish,
Zion, city of our God.
"Ah," she says, "how sore I languish,
bowed beneath the chastening rod!
For my God forsook me quite
and forgot my sorry plight."
"Let not Satan make thee craven.
He can threaten but not harm.
On My hands thy name is graven,
and thy shield is My strong arm.
How, then, could it ever be
I should not remember thee,
fail to build thy walls, My city,
and look down on thee with pity."
But then things get rocky. Maybe a person doesn't have plumbing, and thinks "woe is me." Maybe a person doesn't have heat in his home, and thinks God's falling down on the job of providing for him. Maybe a person doesn't have a steady (or sufficient) income, and frets over what the future holds.
And yet, Jesus promises to take care of us. So sometimes, through the power of the Absolution, a person may even have his little heart calmed from fear of what the future holds as far as temporal goods. After all, if you have no food or home, if you have no money, if your health is shot, "what can man do to me?" Jesus lives, and now is death but the gate of life immortal. To live is Christ, and to die is gain. The Lord gives; the Lord takes away; blessed be the name of the Lord.
But then,
sometimes,
there's another loss.
What happens when God withholds His word? (Or, at least, it appears that that is His plan.)
God promises to uphold us in the Faith. God promises to do this through the Word, and only through the Word. When it appears that God Himself is abandoning a person, when God Himself (who is Truth itself) is reneging on His promise, that makes the loss of income or home or family or friends or health seem like piddly little problems.
God had told Abraham for decades that He would send a Savior. A Savior that would come through Abraham's son. Nope, the heir of Abraham's house wasn't gonna be a good enough heir. Nope, Abraham's son by his quasi-wife wasn't gonna be the one either. It would be Isaac. THAT was the son who was the promised seed of Abraham.
Then God said, "Kill him."
We tend to look at that story and think about the obvious.
GOD said, "Kill him"??? But this God says, "You shall not murder." This God disapproves of human sacrifice. What's up with the "Kill him"??
We think of how much Abraham and Sarah loved their son. They love him as much as we love our children. When a child dies, the parents' heart is broken! How could they inflict that sort of pain on themselves?
But both those are temporal difficulties. BIG difficulties, to be sure. But still, temporal, earthly difficulties.
When God told Abraham to kill Isaac, that meant something even bigger. "I'm taking away My promise. I told you that I would send a Savior who would be the son of Isaac. Well, now I'm asking you to kill Isaac."
Think about what that meant to Abraham. For all reasonable intents and purposes, God was saying that He was changing His mind and not sending a Savior after all. No Savior for Abraham and Sarah. No Savior for the world. No atonement for sin. No way to restore communion with God.
The loss of the world's salvation and the loss of God Himself is a whole lot bigger deal eeeeven than the loss of one's dearly beloved child. But any reasonable person could see that that was the consequence of killing the son through whom the promised salvation would come.
But even when it appeared incontrovertible that God was going back on His promise, He wasn't. And Abraham trusted that God knew what He was doing. God grant us to trust Him even when there's evidence that He "doesn't care."
Zion mourns in fear and anguish,
Zion, city of our God.
"Ah," she says, "how sore I languish,
bowed beneath the chastening rod!
For my God forsook me quite
and forgot my sorry plight."
"Let not Satan make thee craven.
He can threaten but not harm.
On My hands thy name is graven,
and thy shield is My strong arm.
How, then, could it ever be
I should not remember thee,
fail to build thy walls, My city,
and look down on thee with pity."
Monday, September 17, 2007
Past the Boundaries
When I was a little girl, there were places I could go. Places far far away from home. There was the playground: it was three blocks away! Then I got older and went to school: it was five blocks away! The two good buddies I made at school were girls who lived (pretty much) between me and school. In the neighborhood, we just didn't play with kids who lived more than a half-block away. So having friends from five blocks away was really stepping out into the big wide world!
Now I live in the country. I drive two miles before I even come to a stop sign. Four or five miles to the nearest little villages.
We're visiting my folks for a few days. Having skipped three out of the last four days jogging, I knew I couldn't allow myself to skip it while out of town again. So today I jogged down to the playground, and [gasp!] kept right on going past it! I usually jog two miles a day, and when I got to my grade-school, I had completed only 1/4 of my jog. So I had quite a ways to go yet before I could even turn around and head back home.
It's a funny feeling to go past the boundaries. It gives an odd feeling of being all grown-up, and yet the amazingly fresh memory of how "far away" those places were -- places that were once off-limits because of being a whole mile away. It's a funny feeling to be halfway home from my old grade-school, and see the intersection near my parents' house up ahead, and realize that if I were at home, traversing that distance wouldn't even take me to the next-door neighbor's house.
I can't even imagine how it must be for Texans and Alaskans to find themselves in a small midwestern city where everything is so close by, where the FAR end of town is about 15 minutes away, where that 15-minute radius can offer nearly any store or restaurant or entertainment you could wish for. Being from a place with low population density, in my hometown I now feel like a gawky tourist.
Now I live in the country. I drive two miles before I even come to a stop sign. Four or five miles to the nearest little villages.
We're visiting my folks for a few days. Having skipped three out of the last four days jogging, I knew I couldn't allow myself to skip it while out of town again. So today I jogged down to the playground, and [gasp!] kept right on going past it! I usually jog two miles a day, and when I got to my grade-school, I had completed only 1/4 of my jog. So I had quite a ways to go yet before I could even turn around and head back home.
It's a funny feeling to go past the boundaries. It gives an odd feeling of being all grown-up, and yet the amazingly fresh memory of how "far away" those places were -- places that were once off-limits because of being a whole mile away. It's a funny feeling to be halfway home from my old grade-school, and see the intersection near my parents' house up ahead, and realize that if I were at home, traversing that distance wouldn't even take me to the next-door neighbor's house.
I can't even imagine how it must be for Texans and Alaskans to find themselves in a small midwestern city where everything is so close by, where the FAR end of town is about 15 minutes away, where that 15-minute radius can offer nearly any store or restaurant or entertainment you could wish for. Being from a place with low population density, in my hometown I now feel like a gawky tourist.
Sunday, September 16, 2007
Poison in the Cup
Today's office hymn included the portions:
What God ordains is always good.
His loving thought attends me.
No poison can be in the cup
That my Physician sends me.
and later
What God ordains is always good.
Though I the cup am drinking
Which savors now of bitterness
I take it without shrinking.
Poison usually tastes bitter. It's a protection for us: the natural reaction to the bitter taste is to spit it out before the poison gets into you.
However, medicine usually tastes bitter too. (Or at least, it did in the old days before we came up with all the chemical concoctions we have for medicine now.)
So if I am drinking the cup which savors of bitterness, I will be inclined to think that it's poisonous. But it could be medicine from the Physician. Hard to tell, based just on the experience of bitter taste. According to the hymnist, what God gives will be good, even if it appears to my senses to be dangerously poisonous and distasteful.
What God ordains is always good.
His loving thought attends me.
No poison can be in the cup
That my Physician sends me.
and later
What God ordains is always good.
Though I the cup am drinking
Which savors now of bitterness
I take it without shrinking.
Poison usually tastes bitter. It's a protection for us: the natural reaction to the bitter taste is to spit it out before the poison gets into you.
However, medicine usually tastes bitter too. (Or at least, it did in the old days before we came up with all the chemical concoctions we have for medicine now.)
So if I am drinking the cup which savors of bitterness, I will be inclined to think that it's poisonous. But it could be medicine from the Physician. Hard to tell, based just on the experience of bitter taste. According to the hymnist, what God gives will be good, even if it appears to my senses to be dangerously poisonous and distasteful.
Saturday, September 15, 2007
A Good Pastor
Once upon a time, a congregation was between pastors. They asked a man to serve as vacancy pastor. Having a full-time job, and knowing their financial plight, for three years this man did not accept pay for his weekends preaching and teaching. Years later, people in the congregation would talk about what a good pastor he was, that he gave his paychecks back to the congregation.
It was certainly a generous and lovingly sacrificial thing to do. But what happens in the future when other pastors work full-time caring for the congregation and need their paychecks? According to the Gospel, we don't get what we deserve; God always gives us better than we deserve. If people cannot pay for a pastor, should they be deprived of one? Seems to me the answer should be "no." And yet, how then would the pastor provide for his family?
It was certainly a generous and lovingly sacrificial thing to do. But what happens in the future when other pastors work full-time caring for the congregation and need their paychecks? According to the Gospel, we don't get what we deserve; God always gives us better than we deserve. If people cannot pay for a pastor, should they be deprived of one? Seems to me the answer should be "no." And yet, how then would the pastor provide for his family?
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
Girls Cry
Back in August, my young friend Matthew and I were talking about the new Harry Potter book. I'd recently finished it, and he was about halfway through. I said something about the parts that made me cry, but of course he didn't want to hear anything about it yet.
Several days later, Matthew had finished the book. We were talking about what we liked, what surprised us, what disappointed us, how we felt about different people's deaths, etc. One thing Matthew wanted to know was "So what was it that made you cry at the end?" He understood my tears over Percy's return. I also told him that I knew, about five pages before it happened, that Neville was going to kill Negini, and that just started the tears to flowing. "But that's a GOOD thing! Why would you cry over that???" I tried to explain, and the closest I could come was pointing out that sometimes people cry at weddings. Well, Matthew could understand how people would get emotional and cry from happiness at a wedding. But this was battle. This was Neville. This was defeating evil. This was altogether different from a wedding!
We fussed with each other about that for a bit. Then Matthew pulled his dad over, "Do you know what made her cry?? When Neville killed Negini! Can you believe that?" And his pa said, "Well, yes, Matthew. She's a girl." "What's that got to do with anything?" "Well, son, girls are different from boys. Get used to it. That's the way it is."
So last Thursday at church, an envelope was handed to me. Cash from an anonymous donor. I headed out the door and took a walk and cried.
Why cry? That's just stupid. The gift was a good thing!
Girls are different from boys.
Today a friend got tapped to be a mediator for another anonymous gift. After the first phone call, I headed out to jog, and I cried (with a smile on my face).
How stupid. The present is a good thing!
Girls are different from boys.
As the day progressed and we tried to finagle some arrangements to make this surprise work out, I realized that it might not work out. But you know what? (It's so cool!) Even if the tangible physical benefits of the gift didn't come through, the knowledge that somebody(s) loved us enough, cared enough, to bother with this ... just the knowledge that they tried to pull this off was awesomely and unbelievably buoyant. It was encouraging. It meant so much ... even if it didn't pan out.
Then came the bad news from the county and the repairman. But minutes later came the good news from our local looper-mediator that the plans were all in place from the anonymous folks who desire to provide some comfort to my family. That helps so much!
Tomorrow night -- long hot showers! Here we come!
And I am the poster-child for "girls are different from boys."
Because sometimes girls cry when it makes no sense at all.
Several days later, Matthew had finished the book. We were talking about what we liked, what surprised us, what disappointed us, how we felt about different people's deaths, etc. One thing Matthew wanted to know was "So what was it that made you cry at the end?" He understood my tears over Percy's return. I also told him that I knew, about five pages before it happened, that Neville was going to kill Negini, and that just started the tears to flowing. "But that's a GOOD thing! Why would you cry over that???" I tried to explain, and the closest I could come was pointing out that sometimes people cry at weddings. Well, Matthew could understand how people would get emotional and cry from happiness at a wedding. But this was battle. This was Neville. This was defeating evil. This was altogether different from a wedding!
We fussed with each other about that for a bit. Then Matthew pulled his dad over, "Do you know what made her cry?? When Neville killed Negini! Can you believe that?" And his pa said, "Well, yes, Matthew. She's a girl." "What's that got to do with anything?" "Well, son, girls are different from boys. Get used to it. That's the way it is."
So last Thursday at church, an envelope was handed to me. Cash from an anonymous donor. I headed out the door and took a walk and cried.
Why cry? That's just stupid. The gift was a good thing!
Girls are different from boys.
Today a friend got tapped to be a mediator for another anonymous gift. After the first phone call, I headed out to jog, and I cried (with a smile on my face).
How stupid. The present is a good thing!
Girls are different from boys.
As the day progressed and we tried to finagle some arrangements to make this surprise work out, I realized that it might not work out. But you know what? (It's so cool!) Even if the tangible physical benefits of the gift didn't come through, the knowledge that somebody(s) loved us enough, cared enough, to bother with this ... just the knowledge that they tried to pull this off was awesomely and unbelievably buoyant. It was encouraging. It meant so much ... even if it didn't pan out.
Then came the bad news from the county and the repairman. But minutes later came the good news from our local looper-mediator that the plans were all in place from the anonymous folks who desire to provide some comfort to my family. That helps so much!
Tomorrow night -- long hot showers! Here we come!
And I am the poster-child for "girls are different from boys."
Because sometimes girls cry when it makes no sense at all.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Psalm 103:13
As a father pities his children,
So the Lord pities those who fear Him.
For the Lord knows our frame;
He remembers that we are dust.
No matter how weary I may be of carrying water, no matter how tired I may be of walking 400' in the rain and/or the chill just to go brush my teeth or use the potty, it's still easier than thinking of my kids having to do the same thing.
It always seems easier to be sick yourself than it is to ache over your children's sicknesses.
I think Mom is not having an easy time knowing our current difficulties with water. Likewise, I keep thinking that this is easier than it will be, someday, when Katie and Nathan are going through the same thing we're going through now.
Oh, how we [Harry Potter readers] can understand Molly at the very end of book #7, going after Bellatrix!
So when David tells us that the Lord has compassion on His children, it's not just the compassion of loving them so much because, after all, they are His children and not somebody else's. But He has the compassion of one who would rather suffer Himself than see His people hurting.
So the Lord pities those who fear Him.
For the Lord knows our frame;
He remembers that we are dust.
No matter how weary I may be of carrying water, no matter how tired I may be of walking 400' in the rain and/or the chill just to go brush my teeth or use the potty, it's still easier than thinking of my kids having to do the same thing.
It always seems easier to be sick yourself than it is to ache over your children's sicknesses.
I think Mom is not having an easy time knowing our current difficulties with water. Likewise, I keep thinking that this is easier than it will be, someday, when Katie and Nathan are going through the same thing we're going through now.
Oh, how we [Harry Potter readers] can understand Molly at the very end of book #7, going after Bellatrix!
So when David tells us that the Lord has compassion on His children, it's not just the compassion of loving them so much because, after all, they are His children and not somebody else's. But He has the compassion of one who would rather suffer Himself than see His people hurting.
Carnival
For lots of good reading and ideas on homeschooling, the new week's collection of blog posts is listed at Why Homeschool. Enjoy!
Monday, September 10, 2007
Normal?
Everybody left the house this morning. EVERYBODY! Paul went to work. Andrew went to a volunteer job working at the horse barn. Philip is on a two-week temp job and it's days this time. Gary had Winkel (circuit pastors' conference). Maggie and I headed out to do errands.
Six people. Four cars. Five different directions.
The rest of the world thinks this is par-for-the-course. Yikes. What are homes for anyway??
Six people. Four cars. Five different directions.
The rest of the world thinks this is par-for-the-course. Yikes. What are homes for anyway??
Sunday, September 09, 2007
Plumbing Update
Problems with the parsonage septic system were discussed today at church. As if the church wasn't having money problems enough, we are facing a repair bill equal to about 3-4 weeks of offerings. And that's if we're lucky and the whole system doesn't have to be replaced; the bill could be 3 months worth of offerings.
We've been using the kitchen and toilets and sinks at church as much as possible. Given the size of our family, the repairmen expected to have to pump out our non-operational septic tank twice a week. Over Labor Day weekend, we filled it to overfull in just four days; discovering that ugly surprise on Tuesday revealed the immensity of the problem. The tank was last pumped five days ago, and it's only half full. We're doing good on curtailing water usage!! Given what the repairmen said, it'll be another two weeks of trying not to let any water slip down any drains in the house. But we've decided to loosen the reins a bit and give the kids permission to go potty at home during the night instead of making them walk next door to church.
If the repairman finds the field in bad shape too, we'll need a whole new system. Then church will need to get bids. Furthermore, the rebuilding will take longer. I'm thinking it could be mid-October before I can enjoy simple pleasures such as washing up a dirty pot and letting the water just run down the drain.
Katie, when we come to visit, I'm going to get in your shower and drain the hot-water tank!
We've been using the kitchen and toilets and sinks at church as much as possible. Given the size of our family, the repairmen expected to have to pump out our non-operational septic tank twice a week. Over Labor Day weekend, we filled it to overfull in just four days; discovering that ugly surprise on Tuesday revealed the immensity of the problem. The tank was last pumped five days ago, and it's only half full. We're doing good on curtailing water usage!! Given what the repairmen said, it'll be another two weeks of trying not to let any water slip down any drains in the house. But we've decided to loosen the reins a bit and give the kids permission to go potty at home during the night instead of making them walk next door to church.
If the repairman finds the field in bad shape too, we'll need a whole new system. Then church will need to get bids. Furthermore, the rebuilding will take longer. I'm thinking it could be mid-October before I can enjoy simple pleasures such as washing up a dirty pot and letting the water just run down the drain.
Katie, when we come to visit, I'm going to get in your shower and drain the hot-water tank!
Practicing Lawlessness
Matthew 13:41 The Son of Man will send out His angels, and they will gather out of His kingdom all things that offend, and those who practice lawlessness, and will cast them into the furnace of fire.
Obviously, those who will have nothing to do with the law, those who live hedonistically, those who mock the importance of the law -- obviously they are "practicing lawlessness."
But isn't it also "lawless" to use the law in such a way that one thinks one is meriting God's favor? Wouldn't it be lawless to make a god out of obedience to the law?
Obviously, those who will have nothing to do with the law, those who live hedonistically, those who mock the importance of the law -- obviously they are "practicing lawlessness."
But isn't it also "lawless" to use the law in such a way that one thinks one is meriting God's favor? Wouldn't it be lawless to make a god out of obedience to the law?
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