I've been doing some research on icons. Although I'm not dredging up the information I wanted to find, there is one thing that I've discovered. I could never be Orthodox. The more I read about the icons and what individual ones are all about, the more I see how much I need the Lutheran perspective on how we are simultaneously saint and sinner, and how God's word of forgiveness declares us to be what we are not and begins to make us into what God would have us to be.
I really need to get around to sewing a bridesmaid's dress. I keep finding other things to do first. But pretty soon I'm going to run out of time. Better get started.
We did almost no housecleaning this week.
I sure did like the old WordPerfect programs. But the last few updates have made it more and more like Word. So I am trying to learn to make Word work for me as well as WordPerfect. I used to use Word when it didn't matter much, and haul out WordPerfect when I needed a more complex word-processing task. Boy, Word is a lot less intuitive, a lot harder to adjust, and a lot harder to find answers for in its "help desk." But I have made a great deal of headway on finding its shortcuts and solving problems. Still have a long way to go.
I stopped at one of those big, busy areas of town for shopping today, at a store I seldom visit. There is SO much cool stuff in stores that I don't even know about. Things that could make life simpler. But I don't know it exists, and I somehow manage without. But boy, oh boy, the yummy smells in those parts of town, where there are coffee shops and bakeries and restaurants galore. Mmmmm. I wonder how fat I'd be if I had the money to indulge in all those treats, because I don't think I have the self-discipline to deny myself those things with the tempting aromas.
I learned to prune apple trees today from somebody who actually knows how to do it. Up till now, I've been faking it with my pruning. I did find out that fruit trees and other trees need to be pruned quite differently. Oops . Sometimes I pruned fruit trees/vines as if they were decorative trees or shade trees, while I pruned non-fruit trees as if they were fruit trees. Well, I suppose my trees will grow back to cover over my mistakes, and I can do better with my pruning in the future, shaping the trees in the direction that I wanted but didn't know how to achieve. It always shocks me how naked and near-dead a properly pruned tree looks before spring growth erupts.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Today's Laugh
A weed is a plant that has mastered every survival skill except for learning how to grow in rows. (Doug Larson)
Friday, March 20, 2009
Peas
Sixty little pea-seeds in the ground this morning. I tried soaking them in water first, to encourage germination. I've heard it helps speed things up; I hope I didn't ruin them. They're in the little patch on the south side of the garage where we planted last year's lettuce and tomatoes. Rosie came to "help" by lying on the nice dirt, in the sun, with a human there to pet her ... hiding the seeds I'd carefully spaced on top of last year's mulch. She was summarily removed to the wood-pile nearby.
Even though it's our sunniest, warmest spot, boy, that is some cold, cold dirt!
Even though it's our sunniest, warmest spot, boy, that is some cold, cold dirt!
Today's Laugh
A blonde is in her back yard crying. Her neighbor asks sympathetically, "Why are you crying?"
The blonde replies, "My father called. My mom just died." So her neighbor gives her some coffee and consoles her.
The next day, the blonde is still crying. Her neighbor repeats her question, and the blonde replies, "I just got off the phone with my sister. Her mother died too!"
The blonde replies, "My father called. My mom just died." So her neighbor gives her some coffee and consoles her.
The next day, the blonde is still crying. Her neighbor repeats her question, and the blonde replies, "I just got off the phone with my sister. Her mother died too!"
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Successful Schools
Take a toaster. Use it to make yourself a milkshake.
What? You say it doesn't work? You say a toaster is designed to make toast? A blender is for making milkshakes? You mean to say that different tools are intended to be used to accomplish different tasks? Really?
What is a school supposed to accomplish?
Some of us think a school is supposed to teach kids to read, write, and do math. And to think! We all want kids to learn those things.
But what if a school is supposed to teach kids to be the citizens that the intellectual elite want them to be? To be dependent upon the government? To be good little consumers? To toe the intellectual line?
How do the schools get "fixed" if we can't agree on whether they're supposed to make milkshakes or toast?
Go read Jane's initial thoughts on the Gatto book she's currently reading!!!
What? You say it doesn't work? You say a toaster is designed to make toast? A blender is for making milkshakes? You mean to say that different tools are intended to be used to accomplish different tasks? Really?
What is a school supposed to accomplish?
Some of us think a school is supposed to teach kids to read, write, and do math. And to think! We all want kids to learn those things.
But what if a school is supposed to teach kids to be the citizens that the intellectual elite want them to be? To be dependent upon the government? To be good little consumers? To toe the intellectual line?
How do the schools get "fixed" if we can't agree on whether they're supposed to make milkshakes or toast?
Go read Jane's initial thoughts on the Gatto book she's currently reading!!!
Psalm 51:8
Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean.
Wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.
Make me hear joy and gladness,
that the bones You have broken may rejoice.
Hide Your face from my sins,
and blot out all my iniquities.
HEAR joy and gladness?
Usually we talk about joy and gladness being something we FEEL. Not hear. How does a person hear joy and gladness?
I betcha it's got something to do with the absolution and the sacraments. The hyssop and the washing -- connected to the worship at the tabernacle. Sacramental almost.
Make me hear joy and gladness.
My sins, O Lord, against me rise,
I mourn them with contrition.
Grant, though Thy death and sacrifice,
to me a full remission.
Lord, show before the Father's throne
that Thou didst for my sins atone;
so shall I from my load be freed.
Thy Word I plead.
Keep me, O Lord, each hour of need. (TLH 319)
Yup.
That'd be "hearing joy and gladness."
Wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.
Make me hear joy and gladness,
that the bones You have broken may rejoice.
Hide Your face from my sins,
and blot out all my iniquities.
HEAR joy and gladness?
Usually we talk about joy and gladness being something we FEEL. Not hear. How does a person hear joy and gladness?
I betcha it's got something to do with the absolution and the sacraments. The hyssop and the washing -- connected to the worship at the tabernacle. Sacramental almost.
Make me hear joy and gladness.
My sins, O Lord, against me rise,
I mourn them with contrition.
Grant, though Thy death and sacrifice,
to me a full remission.
Lord, show before the Father's throne
that Thou didst for my sins atone;
so shall I from my load be freed.
Thy Word I plead.
Keep me, O Lord, each hour of need. (TLH 319)
Yup.
That'd be "hearing joy and gladness."
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Today's Laugh
A magician was working on a cruise ship in the Caribbean. The audience would be different each week, so the magician allowed himself to do the same tricks over and over again. There was only one problem: the captain's parrot saw the shows each week and began to understand how the magician did every trick. Once he understood he started shouting in the middle of the show: "Look, it's not the same hat" or "Look, he is hiding the flowers under the table" or "Hey, why are all the cards the Ace of Spades?" The magician was furious but couldn't do anything; it was, after all, the captain's parrot.
One day the ship had an accident and sank. The magician found himself on a piece of wood in the middle of the ocean with the parrot, of course. They stared at each other with hate, but did not utter a word. This went on for one day and then another and another. After a week the parrot said, "OK, I give up. Where's the boat?"
One day the ship had an accident and sank. The magician found himself on a piece of wood in the middle of the ocean with the parrot, of course. They stared at each other with hate, but did not utter a word. This went on for one day and then another and another. After a week the parrot said, "OK, I give up. Where's the boat?"
Dogs
It used to be that kids had dogs, and grown-ups were busy with job and house and their children. Today it seems that the grown-ups have the responsibility and/or pleasure of pets, but the kids are too busy.
Drinking
On Sunday, driving from the place where we dropped off Paul, over to our friends' house, we took the scenic route through the Kettle-Moraine country, past ponds and farms, and through small villages. As we approached one village, we assumed somebody was having a party. But the number of cars parked along the street didn't diminish as we continued further into town; it increased. Cars parked up and down every street, and solidly lining every road into town.
Then we saw the people dressed in green. And people wearing green antennae. And then we caught sight of the county highway packed with people. Not knowing if the road was blocked, and unable to see around the corner due to all the crowds, Gary was trying to get someone to tell him if the road was passable. Finally, a sober man, not dressed in green, who was apparently there for crowd-control, told him that technically the road was not closed, but if he drove down it, to go slowly and watch out for all the drunkards who would stumble right into the path of the car.
We made it through. But we sure did see what the sober man was talking about!
Maggie asked why people would celebrate St Patrick's Day by getting drunk. That's not the easiest thing to explain. But Gary said it was the reason the bishop Patrick wanted to bring Jesus to the people of Ireland, to save them from their sins.
Then we saw the people dressed in green. And people wearing green antennae. And then we caught sight of the county highway packed with people. Not knowing if the road was blocked, and unable to see around the corner due to all the crowds, Gary was trying to get someone to tell him if the road was passable. Finally, a sober man, not dressed in green, who was apparently there for crowd-control, told him that technically the road was not closed, but if he drove down it, to go slowly and watch out for all the drunkards who would stumble right into the path of the car.
We made it through. But we sure did see what the sober man was talking about!
Maggie asked why people would celebrate St Patrick's Day by getting drunk. That's not the easiest thing to explain. But Gary said it was the reason the bishop Patrick wanted to bring Jesus to the people of Ireland, to save them from their sins.
I bind this day to me forever,
by power of faith, Christ's incarnation,
His baptism in the Jordan River,
His cross of death for my salvation,
His bursting from the spiced tomb,
His riding up the heavenly way,
His coming at the day of doom,
I bind unto myself today.
Against the demon snares of sin,
the vice that gives temptation force,
the natural lusts that war within,
the hostile foes that mar my course,
or few or many, far or nigh,
in every place and in all hours,
against their fierce hostility,
I bind to me these holy powers.
by power of faith, Christ's incarnation,
His baptism in the Jordan River,
His cross of death for my salvation,
His bursting from the spiced tomb,
His riding up the heavenly way,
His coming at the day of doom,
I bind unto myself today.
Against the demon snares of sin,
the vice that gives temptation force,
the natural lusts that war within,
the hostile foes that mar my course,
or few or many, far or nigh,
in every place and in all hours,
against their fierce hostility,
I bind to me these holy powers.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Maybe He Was Right
Jesus told the disciples again and again and again that He would be betrayed and tortured and killed, and on the third day He would rise. Did the disciples get it? Nope. Sometimes they heard Him and objected. Sometimes it just went in one ear and out the other.
But Mary heard. She had been rescued from the demons and from her whoring. She sat at His feet and soaked up every word. She clung to Him. During Holy Week, she anointed Him -- Jesus says it was for His burial.
Do the men get it? Still they don't.
In our story for today, a short little story, Mark 14:12-31, we hear THREE times that Jesus showed the disciples that He knew what was coming.
1. He told them where to find John Mark's house for the celebration of the Passover: "A man will meet you carrying a pitcher of water; follow him." Now, I don't know about you, but I know I'd be pretty freaked out if somebody told me to walk into the city, and I'd meet a guy with a pitcher of water, and I was to follow him, and ask to use his house, and he'd agree to it, and then it all happened just like that. I'd be thinking, "How did Jesus know that I'd see somebody, and it would be the right somebody, and that he'd lead me to the house where they believe in Him, and are willing to give us their house for the evening?" (Which, by the way, turned out not to be just that evening, but, really, at least a couple of months, until Pentecost or beyond.)
2. He told them that one of the Twelve would betray Him. "Who? Us? Me? Nah." But sure enough, it only took a few hours before they found out that one of them had betrayed Jesus. Oh my goodness! Jesus was right about that too!
3. He told them that they would abandon Him. And He even gave the specifics about Peter denying Him three times before morning. And that happened too, just as Jesus had said. And we know that this "clicked" in Peter's brain, because it was the second cock-a-doodle-doo that jarred Peter's memory about what Jesus had said about his denial.
And not only those things in today's story, but there was also
4. the whole business about where to find the donkeys on Palm Sunday, and even how the conversation would go between the disciples and the guy who had the donkeys.
And in every one of these bits of the story, Jesus "predicted the future." He knew what would happen. He told the disciples what would happen. And it did. Just like He said it would. Seems to me like it would be pretty freaky if somebody I knew was telling me things like that, all of which came to pass. And not just coming true in a year or in a decade, but in a few minutes or a few hours.
And yet, what did Jesus say right smack-dab in the middle of "you will abandon Me" and "Peter will deny Me"?
After I have been raised, I will go before you into Galilee.
After He was raised?
Didn't they hear that part?
Well, no. They hadn't heard it earlier either.
All this musing is intended in no way to pick on Peter, James, John, Andrew, and Co. It's because I do the same thing. Probably you do too. Jesus tells us that we will have tribulation in the world. Do we still believe in the theology of glory? Yup. Jesus tells us that "this is the victory that overcomes the world -- even our faith." In the midst of the despair of tribulation, do we believe that? Welllll, there's that pesky sinful nature. Jesus tells us that He will hang onto us and save us, even though we see in ourselves sin and rebellion and unbelief. But we insist on believing that He will love us because we're oh-so-good, or despise us because we're oh-so-bad.
In spite of overwhelming evidence that Jesus knew what was coming in the next hours and days, still His disciples didn't get it that He would be killed and rise again the third day as He said. Good grief, even the Pharisees who killed Him knew the rumor about His rising on the third day, and they expected the disciples to steal His body, so that's why they convinced Pilate to seal the tomb and set a guard there. But the disciples? Nope.
And yet, when it comes to food and clothing, when it comes to preservation of my faith, when it comes to Jesus' triumphing in the end, putting to death Death itself, do I think He's right? He sure does have a good track record.
Unbelief is amazingly persistent.
But Mary heard. She had been rescued from the demons and from her whoring. She sat at His feet and soaked up every word. She clung to Him. During Holy Week, she anointed Him -- Jesus says it was for His burial.
Do the men get it? Still they don't.
In our story for today, a short little story, Mark 14:12-31, we hear THREE times that Jesus showed the disciples that He knew what was coming.
1. He told them where to find John Mark's house for the celebration of the Passover: "A man will meet you carrying a pitcher of water; follow him." Now, I don't know about you, but I know I'd be pretty freaked out if somebody told me to walk into the city, and I'd meet a guy with a pitcher of water, and I was to follow him, and ask to use his house, and he'd agree to it, and then it all happened just like that. I'd be thinking, "How did Jesus know that I'd see somebody, and it would be the right somebody, and that he'd lead me to the house where they believe in Him, and are willing to give us their house for the evening?" (Which, by the way, turned out not to be just that evening, but, really, at least a couple of months, until Pentecost or beyond.)
2. He told them that one of the Twelve would betray Him. "Who? Us? Me? Nah." But sure enough, it only took a few hours before they found out that one of them had betrayed Jesus. Oh my goodness! Jesus was right about that too!
3. He told them that they would abandon Him. And He even gave the specifics about Peter denying Him three times before morning. And that happened too, just as Jesus had said. And we know that this "clicked" in Peter's brain, because it was the second cock-a-doodle-doo that jarred Peter's memory about what Jesus had said about his denial.
And not only those things in today's story, but there was also
4. the whole business about where to find the donkeys on Palm Sunday, and even how the conversation would go between the disciples and the guy who had the donkeys.
And in every one of these bits of the story, Jesus "predicted the future." He knew what would happen. He told the disciples what would happen. And it did. Just like He said it would. Seems to me like it would be pretty freaky if somebody I knew was telling me things like that, all of which came to pass. And not just coming true in a year or in a decade, but in a few minutes or a few hours.
And yet, what did Jesus say right smack-dab in the middle of "you will abandon Me" and "Peter will deny Me"?
After I have been raised, I will go before you into Galilee.
After He was raised?
Didn't they hear that part?
Well, no. They hadn't heard it earlier either.
All this musing is intended in no way to pick on Peter, James, John, Andrew, and Co. It's because I do the same thing. Probably you do too. Jesus tells us that we will have tribulation in the world. Do we still believe in the theology of glory? Yup. Jesus tells us that "this is the victory that overcomes the world -- even our faith." In the midst of the despair of tribulation, do we believe that? Welllll, there's that pesky sinful nature. Jesus tells us that He will hang onto us and save us, even though we see in ourselves sin and rebellion and unbelief. But we insist on believing that He will love us because we're oh-so-good, or despise us because we're oh-so-bad.
In spite of overwhelming evidence that Jesus knew what was coming in the next hours and days, still His disciples didn't get it that He would be killed and rise again the third day as He said. Good grief, even the Pharisees who killed Him knew the rumor about His rising on the third day, and they expected the disciples to steal His body, so that's why they convinced Pilate to seal the tomb and set a guard there. But the disciples? Nope.
And yet, when it comes to food and clothing, when it comes to preservation of my faith, when it comes to Jesus' triumphing in the end, putting to death Death itself, do I think He's right? He sure does have a good track record.
Unbelief is amazingly persistent.
Simon the Leper
And being in Bethany at the home of Simon the leper, as He sat at the table, a woman came having an alabaster flask of very costly oil of spikenard. Then she broke the flask and poured it on His head. Mark 14:3
When I was pregnant with my second child, the boy-name I liked was Matthew. Gary wanted it to be Philip. Whatever the girl-name was, we agreed on that one. But we didn't agree on the boy-name. So the plan was to name him Philip unless he was born on a particular day, in which case he would be Matthew. He was born, we were calling him Philip, and the birth certificate was turned in to the county when I realized that he was born on the day that meant we were going to name him Matthew. Oops. Philip he is.
Turns out that, in the group of Rachel's and Matt's and Philip's friends, most of them are named Matthew. Matt has got ... what?... like, FIVE buddies named Matt. Awfully handy for Philip to have his own name instead of a repeat of everybody else's name. All those Matts have "alternate" names, such as going by a portion of their last name, or maybe by their Belegarth fight-name.
Yesterday morning we began our focus for the next two weeks on the Passion according to St Mark. At the beginning is the anointing of Jesus. There are some who think that Mary of Bethany may also be known as Mary Magdalene, and some who think likewise that Simon the leper was also known as Lazarus (which means "God is my help").
I've heard people say that Lazarus cannot be Simon the leper because, well, because his name is Lazarus, not Simon. Of course, we do have an indication that Jesus gave people new names: "Blessed are you, Simon bar-Jonah ... And I also say to you that you are Peter ..."
While we were on this story yesterday, though, I just started giggling to think about it. Jesus had Simons comin' out the whazoo. Two of the apostles were Simons. One of His brothers was Simon too. Then there was this Simon who is very likely the guy He raised from the dead, the dear friend with whom Jesus stayed when He was in Jerusalem. I couldn't help thinking, "No wonder He wanted to pass out nicknames to some of those Simons. It helps us keep 'em all straight."
When I was pregnant with my second child, the boy-name I liked was Matthew. Gary wanted it to be Philip. Whatever the girl-name was, we agreed on that one. But we didn't agree on the boy-name. So the plan was to name him Philip unless he was born on a particular day, in which case he would be Matthew. He was born, we were calling him Philip, and the birth certificate was turned in to the county when I realized that he was born on the day that meant we were going to name him Matthew. Oops. Philip he is.
Turns out that, in the group of Rachel's and Matt's and Philip's friends, most of them are named Matthew. Matt has got ... what?... like, FIVE buddies named Matt. Awfully handy for Philip to have his own name instead of a repeat of everybody else's name. All those Matts have "alternate" names, such as going by a portion of their last name, or maybe by their Belegarth fight-name.
Yesterday morning we began our focus for the next two weeks on the Passion according to St Mark. At the beginning is the anointing of Jesus. There are some who think that Mary of Bethany may also be known as Mary Magdalene, and some who think likewise that Simon the leper was also known as Lazarus (which means "God is my help").
I've heard people say that Lazarus cannot be Simon the leper because, well, because his name is Lazarus, not Simon. Of course, we do have an indication that Jesus gave people new names: "Blessed are you, Simon bar-Jonah ... And I also say to you that you are Peter ..."
While we were on this story yesterday, though, I just started giggling to think about it. Jesus had Simons comin' out the whazoo. Two of the apostles were Simons. One of His brothers was Simon too. Then there was this Simon who is very likely the guy He raised from the dead, the dear friend with whom Jesus stayed when He was in Jerusalem. I couldn't help thinking, "No wonder He wanted to pass out nicknames to some of those Simons. It helps us keep 'em all straight."
Monday, March 16, 2009
Spring
All the sheets washed and then hung on the line to dry in the sweet outdoor air and sunshine.
Windows open.
Bikes taken out of storage so that we could ride to chapel this afternoon instead of driving the car.
People bustin' on out of their homes, walking, jogging, biking, hanging clothes on their clotheslines.
Sitting on the deck --with nary a coat or blanket-- for Maggie's literature read-aloud today.
Windows open.
Bikes taken out of storage so that we could ride to chapel this afternoon instead of driving the car.
People bustin' on out of their homes, walking, jogging, biking, hanging clothes on their clotheslines.
Sitting on the deck --with nary a coat or blanket-- for Maggie's literature read-aloud today.
Windmills
On my homeschool email list today, somebody posted a link to one of my kids' favorite webcomics, and this one just fits my daughter perfectly! She gets so creeped out by wind-farms, and I've never understood it. This comic makes me think it must be because she's read sci-fi that I'm clueless about.
Yesterday, Gary and Maggie and I were driving through the boonies of Wisconsin, having dropped Paul off in Oshkosh for his ride back to college after spring break. As we drove past a wind-farm, Gary thought maybe we should stop and listen. We've heard people complain about the terrible noise from those windmill generators. So we parked right across the road from one of the turbines. We opened the car windows and listened. Okay, you could hear something. But not right at the start. We had to sit in the quiet for several seconds before our ears attuned to the quiet whirring of the windmill. But when a car appeared on the horizon (I mean, like, a good half-mile away or more) the sound of the engine completely drowned out the sound of the windmill. A dishwasher makes way more noise than those windmills do. My stove-vent on LOW makes more noise than that windmill did -- and we purchased one of the quiet vents. After our stop-n-listen yesterday, I am entirely skeptical about the "noise pollution" argument about wind-farms.
Yesterday, Gary and Maggie and I were driving through the boonies of Wisconsin, having dropped Paul off in Oshkosh for his ride back to college after spring break. As we drove past a wind-farm, Gary thought maybe we should stop and listen. We've heard people complain about the terrible noise from those windmill generators. So we parked right across the road from one of the turbines. We opened the car windows and listened. Okay, you could hear something. But not right at the start. We had to sit in the quiet for several seconds before our ears attuned to the quiet whirring of the windmill. But when a car appeared on the horizon (I mean, like, a good half-mile away or more) the sound of the engine completely drowned out the sound of the windmill. A dishwasher makes way more noise than those windmills do. My stove-vent on LOW makes more noise than that windmill did -- and we purchased one of the quiet vents. After our stop-n-listen yesterday, I am entirely skeptical about the "noise pollution" argument about wind-farms.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Today's Laugh
Q: Why couldn't Helen Keller drive?
A: She's a woman.
Q: Why do brides wear white?
A: Appliances always come in white.
A: She's a woman.
Q: Why do brides wear white?
A: Appliances always come in white.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Word Processor
I've been doing some work at church which involves extracting old word-processing files from a word-processor. It's not a computer. It's from the days prior to PCs being a normal and customary possession of pastors. The secretary at church joked the other day about the terrible clacking noises I was making, and her eyes popped a bit when she saw the old-fashioned screen, black background, green computer letters. And this things is HUGE.
But the thing I'm so proud of is that I figured out how to turn it on, how to insert the floppies, how to maneuver around the text directory, and how to print. Woo hoo! Success! And these old machines are not quite so intuitive to use as the computers we have today.
It takes almost two minutes to print one page of text, and each sheet of paper needs to be hand-inserted like in a typewriter. That makes even my old [pokey] printer seem instantaneous. Theoretically, I think this gives me some time to read whenever I need to print out an old sermon or lecture.
My biggest problem so far is when I find myself groping around for the [non-existent] mouse, wanting to highlight something, or change windows. Nope. Not gonna happen. It's amazing to see what's happened to computers in the last two decades.
But the thing I'm so proud of is that I figured out how to turn it on, how to insert the floppies, how to maneuver around the text directory, and how to print. Woo hoo! Success! And these old machines are not quite so intuitive to use as the computers we have today.
It takes almost two minutes to print one page of text, and each sheet of paper needs to be hand-inserted like in a typewriter. That makes even my old [pokey] printer seem instantaneous. Theoretically, I think this gives me some time to read whenever I need to print out an old sermon or lecture.
My biggest problem so far is when I find myself groping around for the [non-existent] mouse, wanting to highlight something, or change windows. Nope. Not gonna happen. It's amazing to see what's happened to computers in the last two decades.
Prejudiced
Skimming through today's mail, I saw an invitation from a certain seminary for pastors to attend a Day of Homiletical Reflection -- essentially a workshop on preaching. And the guy doing the presenting has a ponytail.
Now, I know I'm not supposed to judge a book by its cover. And I know there are some pretty great men out there who have (or had) long hair.
But still... there's something in me that squirms over the thought that the guy who is going to give instruction to pastors in how to preach
is a guy with a ponytail.
Now, I know I'm not supposed to judge a book by its cover. And I know there are some pretty great men out there who have (or had) long hair.
But still... there's something in me that squirms over the thought that the guy who is going to give instruction to pastors in how to preach
is a guy with a ponytail.
Friday, March 13, 2009
Sign of the Cross
From the baptismal liturgy:
Receive the sign of the holy cross,
both upon your forehead
and upon your breast,
to mark you as one redeemed by Christ the crucified.
Lily goes about her day, playing dress-up and drawing pictures and eating her sandwich. The sign of the cross is there, on her forehead, though not visible to the eye. I saw her pastor put it there on the day of her baptism. It's there.
Frederick likewise goes about his day, playing cars and helping Mommy with his baby sister. The sign of the holy cross is on his forehead too.
When you leave your dad's hospital room, and give him a good-night kiss on the forehead, there too is the sign of the holy cross on his forehead. It's been there a good deal longer than has Lily's or Fredo's. But that's okay -- it's meant to be there for all eternity. It doesn't wear off.
The angels see the cross on my forehead. The demons see it too. But we humans don't. At least, not with our eyeballs. We see it only by faith. (Well, except on Ash Wednesday.)
That's why we cross ourselves.
As a way to "see" it.
When a person goes to confession, the pastor says, "I forgive you all your sins in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit" as he traces that cross (received first in baptism) upon the person's forehead once again.
When we cross ourselves at the beginning of the Service ("In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit") it's because we have been baptized and are gathered in the name of the God to whom we are all joined. The sign of the cross is the sign that we have been baptized into His death. And when we cross ourselves at the end of the Creed ("the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting") it's because, if we have been united together in the likeness of His death, we shall also surely be united in the likeness of His resurrection.
When we cross ourselves at the end of the Lord's Prayer ("deliver us from evil") it's because the cross is what delivers us from evil, and our baptism is what assures that deliverance for us.
Sometimes instead of the "regular" sign of the cross, I need to trace the little cross on my forehead and the little cross over my heart. It helps me remember that this business of signing myself is about baptism -- that it is the absolution applied to this mortal flesh -- and that God made these marks on me when He claimed me, even if I was too little to remember it. When I'm praying the psalms, the sign of the cross helps teach me that these prayers are what I can say because I am united to Christ.
It's a wonder, sometimes, to look around the nave and "see" the cross on the foreheads of the saints gathered there. Some of us touch that cross as we "cross ourselves" and some of us don't. But the mark that shows that we have been claimed by King of the Universe, claimed as His sons, is there for all the angelic realm to see. If only I could remember what it means as easily as they can see it.
Receive the sign of the holy cross,
both upon your forehead
and upon your breast,
to mark you as one redeemed by Christ the crucified.
Lily goes about her day, playing dress-up and drawing pictures and eating her sandwich. The sign of the cross is there, on her forehead, though not visible to the eye. I saw her pastor put it there on the day of her baptism. It's there.
Frederick likewise goes about his day, playing cars and helping Mommy with his baby sister. The sign of the holy cross is on his forehead too.
When you leave your dad's hospital room, and give him a good-night kiss on the forehead, there too is the sign of the holy cross on his forehead. It's been there a good deal longer than has Lily's or Fredo's. But that's okay -- it's meant to be there for all eternity. It doesn't wear off.
The angels see the cross on my forehead. The demons see it too. But we humans don't. At least, not with our eyeballs. We see it only by faith. (Well, except on Ash Wednesday.)
That's why we cross ourselves.
As a way to "see" it.
When a person goes to confession, the pastor says, "I forgive you all your sins in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit" as he traces that cross (received first in baptism) upon the person's forehead once again.
When we cross ourselves at the beginning of the Service ("In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit") it's because we have been baptized and are gathered in the name of the God to whom we are all joined. The sign of the cross is the sign that we have been baptized into His death. And when we cross ourselves at the end of the Creed ("the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting") it's because, if we have been united together in the likeness of His death, we shall also surely be united in the likeness of His resurrection.
When we cross ourselves at the end of the Lord's Prayer ("deliver us from evil") it's because the cross is what delivers us from evil, and our baptism is what assures that deliverance for us.
Sometimes instead of the "regular" sign of the cross, I need to trace the little cross on my forehead and the little cross over my heart. It helps me remember that this business of signing myself is about baptism -- that it is the absolution applied to this mortal flesh -- and that God made these marks on me when He claimed me, even if I was too little to remember it. When I'm praying the psalms, the sign of the cross helps teach me that these prayers are what I can say because I am united to Christ.
It's a wonder, sometimes, to look around the nave and "see" the cross on the foreheads of the saints gathered there. Some of us touch that cross as we "cross ourselves" and some of us don't. But the mark that shows that we have been claimed by King of the Universe, claimed as His sons, is there for all the angelic realm to see. If only I could remember what it means as easily as they can see it.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Law
Is this a universal law of physics? Or is it valid only at my house?
Within 24 hours of mopping the floor, there MUST be an orange-juice spill or spilled milk or a whole plateful of supper dumped on the floor.
Without fail.
Within 24 hours of mopping the floor, there MUST be an orange-juice spill or spilled milk or a whole plateful of supper dumped on the floor.
Without fail.
Today's Laugh
John H. Gerstner was once speaking to a group of business people on justification, and there was a journalist in attendance representing a local newspaper. Gerstner says, "I preached justification emphatically, clearly, earnestly, and I hoped, persuasively. It was, therefore, rather discouraging to learn from the newspaper account that I had spoken the night before on the theme of 'Just a vacation by faith!'"
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Character
Sunday's epistle from Romans 5:
We glory in tribulations, knowing that tribulation produces perseverance; and perseverance, character; and character, hope. Now hope does not disappoint because the love of God has been poured out into our hearts by the Holy Spirit who was given to us.
Now, when I hear the word "character," I think of Calvin and Hobbes, and how Calvin's dad takes the family camping (though they detest it) because it will "build character." And if it rains while camping, so much the better. There are all sorts of miserable things that Calvin endures because Dad says they will "build character."
And I'm thinking, "This is NOT a good picture of character for fitting into this Bible verse." This verse is NOT about toughening myself up so that I get stronger and have a "good character."
When I looked up the Greek word and found where else it was used, and how else it is translated, it's almost like the word could be translated "having been proved" or "having come through testing."
So as tonight's sermon touched on, the tribulations strip us of reliance on ourselves. God's Spirit brings us through the trials and tribulations (i.e., we "persevere") entirely by His grace, as we become more and more aware that our strength garners nothing. And then we come through the testing. This results in hope -- the hope of heaven with Jesus -- because God's love has been poured into us, because we have been justified by Jesus' blood, because He has chosen us and made us His own.
So this is in no way about toughening ourselves up.
And it's a good thing it's not!
We glory in tribulations, knowing that tribulation produces perseverance; and perseverance, character; and character, hope. Now hope does not disappoint because the love of God has been poured out into our hearts by the Holy Spirit who was given to us.
Now, when I hear the word "character," I think of Calvin and Hobbes, and how Calvin's dad takes the family camping (though they detest it) because it will "build character." And if it rains while camping, so much the better. There are all sorts of miserable things that Calvin endures because Dad says they will "build character."
And I'm thinking, "This is NOT a good picture of character for fitting into this Bible verse." This verse is NOT about toughening myself up so that I get stronger and have a "good character."
When I looked up the Greek word and found where else it was used, and how else it is translated, it's almost like the word could be translated "having been proved" or "having come through testing."
So as tonight's sermon touched on, the tribulations strip us of reliance on ourselves. God's Spirit brings us through the trials and tribulations (i.e., we "persevere") entirely by His grace, as we become more and more aware that our strength garners nothing. And then we come through the testing. This results in hope -- the hope of heaven with Jesus -- because God's love has been poured into us, because we have been justified by Jesus' blood, because He has chosen us and made us His own.
So this is in no way about toughening ourselves up.
And it's a good thing it's not!
That Stack of Books
I have been doing more schoolwork with the kids, but still I feel like I'm not doing enough, like I'm letting them down, like they deserve more attention and guidance.
So here's what happens. This evening Gary sits down in the living room with his work-computer and a pile of jobs that need to be accomplished before he goes in to the office tomorrow morning. And there's a pile of books, oh, about a foot high, on the coffee table. Surely these are not all in use, right? Surely they can be put away, right? Surely they don't need to be hogging the coffee table.
I looked at the stack. And would you believe it? Every single book on that stack was used for school TODAY.
Maybe I'm not doing nothing.
(But it's still not enough.
I gotta solve that.)
So here's what happens. This evening Gary sits down in the living room with his work-computer and a pile of jobs that need to be accomplished before he goes in to the office tomorrow morning. And there's a pile of books, oh, about a foot high, on the coffee table. Surely these are not all in use, right? Surely they can be put away, right? Surely they don't need to be hogging the coffee table.
I looked at the stack. And would you believe it? Every single book on that stack was used for school TODAY.
Maybe I'm not doing nothing.
(But it's still not enough.
I gotta solve that.)
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Sticky Rice
I like my basmati to have no crunch and yet no mushiness, and for the rice not to be sticky. Normally that's how it turns out. Sometimes it's sticky, which would be great if I wanted to use chopsticks. Which I don't! I never knew, though, why it would turn out differently.
I think I figured it out. The other day I was trying to make everything come out at the right time to be done for supper. Because of whatever-it-was I was doing, we started the rice on low heat and let it cook for longer than normal. It turned out STICKY.
So that must be the key. If I want the rice to turn out the way I like, I need to bring the rice and water to a boil over high heat, and then let it simmer for the rest of the cooking time. If I want sticky rice, it needs to start over low heat and stay on low heat. Seems simple enough, now that I know....
I think I figured it out. The other day I was trying to make everything come out at the right time to be done for supper. Because of whatever-it-was I was doing, we started the rice on low heat and let it cook for longer than normal. It turned out STICKY.
So that must be the key. If I want the rice to turn out the way I like, I need to bring the rice and water to a boil over high heat, and then let it simmer for the rest of the cooking time. If I want sticky rice, it needs to start over low heat and stay on low heat. Seems simple enough, now that I know....
Credit Line
Philip's loan application for a condo has been turned down. His credit rating is great, but he doesn't have enough credit lines for the bank to okay him for a mortgage.
He had no need for a credit card and preferred to use a debit card. But now we're discovering that there's a different sort of need for a credit card, even if you use it only for filling the gas tank and make sure it's paid off in full each month. That would be another line of credit that he could use to prove himself.
The loan officer told him he needed three credit lines and has only one. Since he has a monthly phone bill, I guess that means his apartment during his last year of college doesn't count, and apparently neither does paying off his college loans, although those probably do contribute to his excellent credit rating.
Now it's a matter of deciding whether he wants to rent an apartment or continue to live at home a little longer, building up a bigger downpayment on a mortgage and taking on two somethings to prove himself credit-worthy.
This makes me realize that it's probably a good thing that I was paying the phone bill at the parsonage. For most of our marriage, we had only one credit card. I saw no use for extras. We didn't have rent or mortgage payments, being in the parsonage. The church was supposed to be paying the utility bills, so we didn't have heat or electricity or garbage pick-up bills to prove our credit-worthiness. Not long after we arrived there, though, a monthly phone bill wasn't paid. I'd paid the long-distance fees to the church so that the treasurer could remit payment, and was shocked to find the following month that the phone company hadn't even received the part of the phone bill that I'd paid. Seeing as how the bill was in our name (not church's), I was not pleased about our credit reputation being affected by church's non-payment habits. So I started paying the phone bill myself. And it's a good thing: when we applied for the mortgage on the house, we had our one long-term credit card, our phone bills, and the only other credit line we had was a rarely-used dept-store card we'd taken a couple of years earlier so that we could knock $50 off the price of my new mixer. That was our three. I'm glad we stumbled into those last two.
He had no need for a credit card and preferred to use a debit card. But now we're discovering that there's a different sort of need for a credit card, even if you use it only for filling the gas tank and make sure it's paid off in full each month. That would be another line of credit that he could use to prove himself.
The loan officer told him he needed three credit lines and has only one. Since he has a monthly phone bill, I guess that means his apartment during his last year of college doesn't count, and apparently neither does paying off his college loans, although those probably do contribute to his excellent credit rating.
Now it's a matter of deciding whether he wants to rent an apartment or continue to live at home a little longer, building up a bigger downpayment on a mortgage and taking on two somethings to prove himself credit-worthy.
This makes me realize that it's probably a good thing that I was paying the phone bill at the parsonage. For most of our marriage, we had only one credit card. I saw no use for extras. We didn't have rent or mortgage payments, being in the parsonage. The church was supposed to be paying the utility bills, so we didn't have heat or electricity or garbage pick-up bills to prove our credit-worthiness. Not long after we arrived there, though, a monthly phone bill wasn't paid. I'd paid the long-distance fees to the church so that the treasurer could remit payment, and was shocked to find the following month that the phone company hadn't even received the part of the phone bill that I'd paid. Seeing as how the bill was in our name (not church's), I was not pleased about our credit reputation being affected by church's non-payment habits. So I started paying the phone bill myself. And it's a good thing: when we applied for the mortgage on the house, we had our one long-term credit card, our phone bills, and the only other credit line we had was a rarely-used dept-store card we'd taken a couple of years earlier so that we could knock $50 off the price of my new mixer. That was our three. I'm glad we stumbled into those last two.
Today's Laugh
There was a feud between the pastor and the choir director of The Hicksville Southern Baptist Church.
It seems the first hint of trouble came when the pastor preached on "dedicating yourselves to service" and the choir director chose to sing "I Shall Not Be Moved."
Trying to believe it was a coincidence, the pastor put the incident behind him. The next Sunday he preached on "giving." Afterwards, the choir squirmed as the director led them in the hymn "Jesus Paid It All."
By this time, the pastor was losing his temper. Sunday morning attendance swelled as the tension between the two built. A large crowd showed up the next week to hear his sermon on "the sin of gossiping." Would you believe the choir director selected "I Love To Tell The Story"?
There was no turning back. The following Sunday the pastor told the congregation that unless something changed he was considering resignation. The entire church gasped when the choir director led them in "Why Not Tonight?"
Truthfully, no one was surprised when the Pastor resigned a week later, explaining that Jesus had led him there and Jesus was leading him away. The choir director could not resist: "What A Friend We Have In Jesus."
It seems the first hint of trouble came when the pastor preached on "dedicating yourselves to service" and the choir director chose to sing "I Shall Not Be Moved."
Trying to believe it was a coincidence, the pastor put the incident behind him. The next Sunday he preached on "giving." Afterwards, the choir squirmed as the director led them in the hymn "Jesus Paid It All."
By this time, the pastor was losing his temper. Sunday morning attendance swelled as the tension between the two built. A large crowd showed up the next week to hear his sermon on "the sin of gossiping." Would you believe the choir director selected "I Love To Tell The Story"?
There was no turning back. The following Sunday the pastor told the congregation that unless something changed he was considering resignation. The entire church gasped when the choir director led them in "Why Not Tonight?"
Truthfully, no one was surprised when the Pastor resigned a week later, explaining that Jesus had led him there and Jesus was leading him away. The choir director could not resist: "What A Friend We Have In Jesus."
Monday, March 09, 2009
Today's Laugh
Steven Spielberg was discussing his new project. It's a drama about famous composers, starring top stars. Sylvester Stallone, Steven Segal, Bruce Willis, and Arnold Schwarzenegger were all present. Spielberg was prepared to allow them to select whatever composers they would portray, as long as they were very famous.
"Well," started Stallone, "I've always admired Mozart. I would love to play him."
"Chopin has always been my favorite, and my image would improve if people saw me playing the piano," said Willis.
"I've always been partial to Strauss and his waltzes," said Segal.
Spielberg was very pleased with these choices. "Sounds splendid." Then, looking at Schwarzenegger, he asked, "Who do you want to be, Arnold?"
So Arnold said, "I'll be Bach."
"Well," started Stallone, "I've always admired Mozart. I would love to play him."
"Chopin has always been my favorite, and my image would improve if people saw me playing the piano," said Willis.
"I've always been partial to Strauss and his waltzes," said Segal.
Spielberg was very pleased with these choices. "Sounds splendid." Then, looking at Schwarzenegger, he asked, "Who do you want to be, Arnold?"
So Arnold said, "I'll be Bach."
Sunday, March 08, 2009
Jesus Walked on Water
So I'm doing some hunting for information on icons, and I'm looking for something on the icon of Jesus Walking on the Water. As I'm googling fruitlessly prior to a library-run, I find a variety of things that make me bust out laughing.
-- Snopes suggests that Jesus didn't walk on water, but was on a patch of fast-freezing ice floating in the sea.
-- A headline on insufficient archeological proof about Jesus and His ministry: "Did Jesus Walk on Water? Prof Can't Find Footprints."
-- And finally, a suggestion that maybe Jesus walked on the water because He couldn't swim.
Oh yeah.
-- Snopes suggests that Jesus didn't walk on water, but was on a patch of fast-freezing ice floating in the sea.
-- A headline on insufficient archeological proof about Jesus and His ministry: "Did Jesus Walk on Water? Prof Can't Find Footprints."
-- And finally, a suggestion that maybe Jesus walked on the water because He couldn't swim.
Oh yeah.
Make Her a Mathematician
Alia is big enough to grab things now, but most of today's toys are too big for little hands. (We wouldn't want them to choke, now, would we?) I've got some old-fashioned toys that she could get her little fingers around, but at the moment of this picture, the only thing within reach was Andrew's compass for geometry. So she was enjoying that. Problem was, it was too long, and she couldn't figure out how to get the end of it in her mouth ... which is, after all, the only point in grabbing anything, right? Her puzzlement provided much amusement for the big people.
(By the way, for you homeschoolers who have yet to get to geometry, I love these compasses. No holes in the textbook or notebook. No temptation to poke your sister.)
(By the way, for you homeschoolers who have yet to get to geometry, I love these compasses. No holes in the textbook or notebook. No temptation to poke your sister.)
The Love of Christ Proclaim
Today we sang,
Lift high the cross,
the love of Christ proclaim,
till all the world adore His sacred name.
I never noticed until today:
the cross IS what proclaims the love of Christ.
And "till" isn't just some time-thing. Rather, it is the proclamation of Christ's love (seen in the cross) which brings people to faith that they might adore Him.
Lift high the cross,
the love of Christ proclaim,
till all the world adore His sacred name.
I never noticed until today:
the cross IS what proclaims the love of Christ.
And "till" isn't just some time-thing. Rather, it is the proclamation of Christ's love (seen in the cross) which brings people to faith that they might adore Him.
Saturday, March 07, 2009
A Good Reason to Homeschool
While Mom reads aloud to little children, they keep their hands busy by brushing her hair, braiding her hair, putting barrettes and bows in her hair -- essentially a variety of scalp massages. Ahhhh! The only downside to this is when the UPS man arrives at the door, and Mom answers the door, forgetting that she has 47 baby-barrettes and 13 ponytails sticking out of her head in a variety of directions.
The Goofiness
I tried hanging clothes out on the line yesterday. It wasn't warm enough to dry them, but it shortened the time the dryer had to work. While out there, I noticed
TULIPS! You have to look close. But see? The tulip leaves are beginning to push through the soil. Exultingly, I told the kids I saw tulips while hanging up the laundry. Andrew asked, "Not just one?" No, I said. All along the back of the house, where they were last year.
"No. It wasn't just one lip?"
Good gracious.
So today I've got ham-n-beans simmering away for supper. Andrew comes into the kitchen and peaks into the pot to see what's on the menu.
"Oh, look, it's the Bog Monster trying to crawl up out of the depths."
Well, shove him back down under the surface. Maybe we can drown him.
But after shoving the bones back down into the bean broth, the bone floated back up to the surface.
So Andrew reports, "He won't stay down. He wants to come up where we can see him. He's such a ham."
(Are you rolling your eyes as much as I am???)
TULIPS! You have to look close. But see? The tulip leaves are beginning to push through the soil. Exultingly, I told the kids I saw tulips while hanging up the laundry. Andrew asked, "Not just one?" No, I said. All along the back of the house, where they were last year.
"No. It wasn't just one lip?"
Good gracious.
So today I've got ham-n-beans simmering away for supper. Andrew comes into the kitchen and peaks into the pot to see what's on the menu.
"Oh, look, it's the Bog Monster trying to crawl up out of the depths."
Well, shove him back down under the surface. Maybe we can drown him.
But after shoving the bones back down into the bean broth, the bone floated back up to the surface.
So Andrew reports, "He won't stay down. He wants to come up where we can see him. He's such a ham."
(Are you rolling your eyes as much as I am???)
Today's Laugh
There were three guys who found themselves in purgatory: a Roman Catholic, a Lutheran, and a Christian Scientist.
The Roman Catholic knew why he was there. He had lived a good life, tried really hard to please God, but occasionally he had slept in on Sunday morning, admitted a few impure thoughts, and hadn't always helped his neighbors as he should've.
When asked why he was there, the Christian Scientist insisted, "I'm not really here."
When the Roman Catholic asked the Lutheran why he was in purgatory, the Lutheran admitted that he had done a good work once.
The Roman Catholic knew why he was there. He had lived a good life, tried really hard to please God, but occasionally he had slept in on Sunday morning, admitted a few impure thoughts, and hadn't always helped his neighbors as he should've.
When asked why he was there, the Christian Scientist insisted, "I'm not really here."
When the Roman Catholic asked the Lutheran why he was in purgatory, the Lutheran admitted that he had done a good work once.
Dislike Your Name?
One of my children has complained about her name. She doesn't like her given name. She can tolerate her nickname. Gary ran across a website of worst baby names. A few minutes of scrolling through that, and it makes a kid's hated name sound really good in comparison! I mean, instead of calling her "Magdalena," we could call her "Zuma Nesta" or "Moxie CrimeFighter" or "Diva Thin Muffin."
Friday, March 06, 2009
Certain Hymns
When Lutheran Service Book was put together, there were two sections of TLH that were nearly entirely left out of the new hymnal. One was the section on the ministry, with prayers for our pastors and missionaries and that God would send out faithful pastors to do His work. And the other section was the "death and burial" part. I realize that those parts were seldom used because too many people saw them as useful only for ordinations/installations and funerals. And honestly, if that's all we use those sections for, there's plenty of great stuff in LSB that will do nicely. But there is a lot in those sections to guide us in our prayers for our pastors, and in our prayers that God would keep us faithful unto death.
I think we don't realize what a gift our pastors are to us, and we don't realize the assaults of Satan upon them and their ministries, and take it for granted that we will always have our pastors. They need our prayers. I mean, look at some of these:
The servants Thou hast called
and to Thy Church art giving
preserve in doctrine pure
and holiness of living.
Thy Spirit fill their hearts,
endue their tongues with power;
what they should boldly speak,
oh, give them in that hour!
Yea, bless Thy Word alway,
our souls forever freeding;
and may we never lack
a faithful shepherd's leading! (TLH 485)
Oh, may Thy pastors faithful be,
not laboring for themselves, but Thee!
Give grace to feed with wholesome food
the sheep and lambs bought by Thy blood,
to tend Thy flock, and thus to prove
how dearly they the Shepherd love. (TLH 493)
And then there's the section on death that barely got touched in TLH. After all, how many of us face death? It's not often. We sequester death away in the hospitals and the nursing homes. We have modern medicine that cures many things --and quickly-- so that we seldom must endure illnesses as happened in the past. And when we must face our own death or the death of those we care for, how many of us spend our time singing to them things like:
With peace and joy I now depart.
God's child I am with all my heart.
I thank thee, Death, thou leadest me
to that true life where I would be.
So cleansed by Christ, I fear not death.
Lord Jesus, strengthen Thou my faith. (TLH 585)
God's Son to our graves then takes His way,
His voice hear all tribes and nations;
the portals are rent that guard our clay,
and moved are the sea's foundations.
He calls out aloud, "Ye dead, come forth!"
In glory we rise to meet Him.
O Jesus, draw near my dying bed
and take me into Thy keeping
and say when my spirit hence is fled,
"This child is not dead, but sleeping."
And leave me not, Savior, till I rise
to praise Thee in life eternal. (TLH 592)
My sins, dear Lord, disturb me sore,
my conscience cannot slumber;
but though as sands upon the shore
my sins may be in number,
I will not quail, but think of Thee;
Thy death, Thy sorrow, borne for me,
Thy sufferings, shall uphold me. (TLH 594)
Do we yearn for people to be singing us such things upon our deathbeds? I think we are often too worried about causing the dying person to fret about dying, and so we avoid the providing comfort that can be found in such hymns.
But what started all my ruminations on this is current events. I think the day is coming in LSB's lifetime where our country will have changed so drastically that we will be facing death in a pervasive way that we're not used to: hunger and homelessness and war and devastation. And certain legislation is brewing that will threaten our pastors if they are to continue to preach God's word instead of the politically-correct word, and so they will need our prayers even more. These two sections of TLH are reason enough to hang onto that old book alongside my new hymnal, because the days are coming when those hymns will have the words we need to pray.
I think we don't realize what a gift our pastors are to us, and we don't realize the assaults of Satan upon them and their ministries, and take it for granted that we will always have our pastors. They need our prayers. I mean, look at some of these:
The servants Thou hast called
and to Thy Church art giving
preserve in doctrine pure
and holiness of living.
Thy Spirit fill their hearts,
endue their tongues with power;
what they should boldly speak,
oh, give them in that hour!
Yea, bless Thy Word alway,
our souls forever freeding;
and may we never lack
a faithful shepherd's leading! (TLH 485)
Oh, may Thy pastors faithful be,
not laboring for themselves, but Thee!
Give grace to feed with wholesome food
the sheep and lambs bought by Thy blood,
to tend Thy flock, and thus to prove
how dearly they the Shepherd love. (TLH 493)
And then there's the section on death that barely got touched in TLH. After all, how many of us face death? It's not often. We sequester death away in the hospitals and the nursing homes. We have modern medicine that cures many things --and quickly-- so that we seldom must endure illnesses as happened in the past. And when we must face our own death or the death of those we care for, how many of us spend our time singing to them things like:
With peace and joy I now depart.
God's child I am with all my heart.
I thank thee, Death, thou leadest me
to that true life where I would be.
So cleansed by Christ, I fear not death.
Lord Jesus, strengthen Thou my faith. (TLH 585)
God's Son to our graves then takes His way,
His voice hear all tribes and nations;
the portals are rent that guard our clay,
and moved are the sea's foundations.
He calls out aloud, "Ye dead, come forth!"
In glory we rise to meet Him.
O Jesus, draw near my dying bed
and take me into Thy keeping
and say when my spirit hence is fled,
"This child is not dead, but sleeping."
And leave me not, Savior, till I rise
to praise Thee in life eternal. (TLH 592)
My sins, dear Lord, disturb me sore,
my conscience cannot slumber;
but though as sands upon the shore
my sins may be in number,
I will not quail, but think of Thee;
Thy death, Thy sorrow, borne for me,
Thy sufferings, shall uphold me. (TLH 594)
Do we yearn for people to be singing us such things upon our deathbeds? I think we are often too worried about causing the dying person to fret about dying, and so we avoid the providing comfort that can be found in such hymns.
But what started all my ruminations on this is current events. I think the day is coming in LSB's lifetime where our country will have changed so drastically that we will be facing death in a pervasive way that we're not used to: hunger and homelessness and war and devastation. And certain legislation is brewing that will threaten our pastors if they are to continue to preach God's word instead of the politically-correct word, and so they will need our prayers even more. These two sections of TLH are reason enough to hang onto that old book alongside my new hymnal, because the days are coming when those hymns will have the words we need to pray.
Lazarus's Graveclothes
John 11:44 -- And he who had died came out bound hand and foot with graveclothes, and his face was wrapped with a cloth. Jesus said to them, "Loose him, and let him go."
I have long wondered why John made such a big deal (20:7) about Jesus' graveclothes, and that the face cloth was folded up neatly, not lying with the linen cloths that had been about His body. I've heard some explanations that helped, but none of them is entirely right, so right that I can say, "Ah, yes! Of course! That's it!"
At Burt's funeral last week, I noticed this bit about the raising of Lazarus. It mentions how he was bound with graveclothes, and mentions the face cloth separately. This means something. I have no idea what. For now, it's just something to wonder about, to puzzle over, until someday we know why John included these details and why he knew they showed us something about Jesus and His love for us.
I have long wondered why John made such a big deal (20:7) about Jesus' graveclothes, and that the face cloth was folded up neatly, not lying with the linen cloths that had been about His body. I've heard some explanations that helped, but none of them is entirely right, so right that I can say, "Ah, yes! Of course! That's it!"
At Burt's funeral last week, I noticed this bit about the raising of Lazarus. It mentions how he was bound with graveclothes, and mentions the face cloth separately. This means something. I have no idea what. For now, it's just something to wonder about, to puzzle over, until someday we know why John included these details and why he knew they showed us something about Jesus and His love for us.
whomp
At Bible class yesterday, people kept asking how our family was doing. At first it confused me, but then I started to hear about all the different people who were sick. Apparently there's some flu-thing going around, and I was clueless as to the depth and extent of it.
Maggie mentioned a sore throat on Wednesday night. But it turned out that she barely ate yesterday, and flopped around with no energy and no brightness in her eyes all day. As I was lying in bed last night, Gary kept sneezing and reaching for a hankie, while somebody in the boys' room was barking.
Paul's due home today for spring break. When he was home for Christmas, people were not exactly healthy. That time, he was the one who infected us. I'm afraid we're going to return the favor this week. Bummers.
Maggie mentioned a sore throat on Wednesday night. But it turned out that she barely ate yesterday, and flopped around with no energy and no brightness in her eyes all day. As I was lying in bed last night, Gary kept sneezing and reaching for a hankie, while somebody in the boys' room was barking.
Paul's due home today for spring break. When he was home for Christmas, people were not exactly healthy. That time, he was the one who infected us. I'm afraid we're going to return the favor this week. Bummers.
Thursday, March 05, 2009
We Are Marshall
For some reason, our kids have no patience for the sports-themed movies that Gary and I often like to watch. I don't know if it's because we raised them too devoid of sports outings, or if it's because they don't like the "perseverance" theme, or what. But when We Are Marshall arrived from Netflix, somebody groaned and said, "Another football movie??!!?"
It was a good football movie. But it was more. It's a true story of what happened in a college town when virtually the whole football team and coaching staff, as well as some of the boosters, died in a plane crash on the way home from a game. This movie wasn't just about rebuilding the football program. It was also a story of how people mourn. How they cope with loss. How different people have different perspectives on what it means to "honor the dead." I really really liked this movie. There's just something I enjoy about a movie where a ragtag group of guys is thrown together and turned into a team.
For those with kids, it's one of the cleanest PG movies I've seen in a while, although there are numerous instances of the s-word. There's also the plane crash that some kids will be bothered by. Of course, there's some less-than-stellar theology, but I can't ask for everything in a movie, now, can I?
It was a good football movie. But it was more. It's a true story of what happened in a college town when virtually the whole football team and coaching staff, as well as some of the boosters, died in a plane crash on the way home from a game. This movie wasn't just about rebuilding the football program. It was also a story of how people mourn. How they cope with loss. How different people have different perspectives on what it means to "honor the dead." I really really liked this movie. There's just something I enjoy about a movie where a ragtag group of guys is thrown together and turned into a team.
For those with kids, it's one of the cleanest PG movies I've seen in a while, although there are numerous instances of the s-word. There's also the plane crash that some kids will be bothered by. Of course, there's some less-than-stellar theology, but I can't ask for everything in a movie, now, can I?
Today's Laugh
QUESTION: Where do the characters go when I use my backspace or delete them on my PC?
ANSWER: The characters go to different places, depending on whom you ask:
The Catholic Church's approach to characters: The nice characters go to heaven, where they are bathed in the light of happiness. The naughty characters are punished for their sins. Naughty characters are those involved in the creation of naughty words, such as "breast," "sex," and contraception."
The Buddhist explanation: If a character has lived rightly, and its karma is good, then after it has been deleted, it will be reincarnated as a different, higher character. Those funny characters above the numbers on your keyboard will become numbers, numbers will become letters, and lower
-case letters will become upper case.
The 20th-century bitter cynical nihilist explanation: Who cares? It doesn't really matter if they're on the page, deleted, undeleted, underlined, etc. It's all the same.
The Mac user's explanation: All the characters written on a PC and then deleted go to straight to PC hell. If you're using a PC, you can probably see the deleted characters, because you're in PC hell also.
Stephen King's explanation: Every time you hit the (Del) key you unleash a tiny monster inside the cursor, which tears the poor unsuspecting character to shreds, drinks its blood, and then eats it, bones and all. Hah, hah, hah!
Dave Barry's explanation: The deleted characters are shipped to Battle Creek, Michigan, where they're made into Pop-Tart filling; this explains why Pop-Tarts are so flammable, while cheap imitations are not flammable. I'm not making this up.
PETA's explanation: You've been DELETING them??? Can't you hear them SCREAMING??? Why don't you go CLUB some BABY SEALS while wearing a MINK, you pig!!!!
IBM's explanation: The characters are not real. They exist only on the screen when they are needed, as concepts, so to delete them is merely to de-conceptualize them. Get a life.
ANSWER: The characters go to different places, depending on whom you ask:
The Catholic Church's approach to characters: The nice characters go to heaven, where they are bathed in the light of happiness. The naughty characters are punished for their sins. Naughty characters are those involved in the creation of naughty words, such as "breast," "sex," and contraception."
The Buddhist explanation: If a character has lived rightly, and its karma is good, then after it has been deleted, it will be reincarnated as a different, higher character. Those funny characters above the numbers on your keyboard will become numbers, numbers will become letters, and lower
-case letters will become upper case.
The 20th-century bitter cynical nihilist explanation: Who cares? It doesn't really matter if they're on the page, deleted, undeleted, underlined, etc. It's all the same.
The Mac user's explanation: All the characters written on a PC and then deleted go to straight to PC hell. If you're using a PC, you can probably see the deleted characters, because you're in PC hell also.
Stephen King's explanation: Every time you hit the (Del) key you unleash a tiny monster inside the cursor, which tears the poor unsuspecting character to shreds, drinks its blood, and then eats it, bones and all. Hah, hah, hah!
Dave Barry's explanation: The deleted characters are shipped to Battle Creek, Michigan, where they're made into Pop-Tart filling; this explains why Pop-Tarts are so flammable, while cheap imitations are not flammable. I'm not making this up.
PETA's explanation: You've been DELETING them??? Can't you hear them SCREAMING??? Why don't you go CLUB some BABY SEALS while wearing a MINK, you pig!!!!
IBM's explanation: The characters are not real. They exist only on the screen when they are needed, as concepts, so to delete them is merely to de-conceptualize them. Get a life.
Wednesday, March 04, 2009
Around the House
I finally got the computer put back together enough that I can download some pictures from the camera. Since Mom hasn't been to see the new house, here are some photos to give her (and some friends) an idea of what the place is like.
This one is taken from the driveway, looking north at the living room (with decorativehuntress cat in the bay window) and two of the bedrooms:
This is the view from the front door, looking west, toward the entrance into the neighborhood:
This one, too, is the view from the front door, but faced south toward the end of our tiny little street:
This is taken from the deck, looking toward my clothesline and the neighbors across the street to the north:
This is the view from the kitchen window, looking east. You can see the neighbor'sbarn shed and the corner of the nursery that abuts the corner of our yard.
And this one is the view straight out the kitchen window in back, facing northeast. In both these last two shots, you can see deer tracks traipsing across the yard, right over the spot where we've dug up a garden-to-be. All those hoofprints is no good sign for the lettuces and tomatoes that I imagine could be growing right on Bambi-Highway.
I hope that gives a little bit of perspective for those of you who would've liked to have been able to visit, but so far haven't been able to.
This one is taken from the driveway, looking north at the living room (with decorative
This is the view from the front door, looking west, toward the entrance into the neighborhood:
This one, too, is the view from the front door, but faced south toward the end of our tiny little street:
This is taken from the deck, looking toward my clothesline and the neighbors across the street to the north:
This is the view from the kitchen window, looking east. You can see the neighbor's
And this one is the view straight out the kitchen window in back, facing northeast. In both these last two shots, you can see deer tracks traipsing across the yard, right over the spot where we've dug up a garden-to-be. All those hoofprints is no good sign for the lettuces and tomatoes that I imagine could be growing right on Bambi-Highway.
I hope that gives a little bit of perspective for those of you who would've liked to have been able to visit, but so far haven't been able to.
Tuesday, March 03, 2009
Stay-at-Home Moms
Katie was mentioning to me how much better behaved her cats are now. She said that when she was at work all day, out of the house, the cats could get by with any number of naughty stunts. But now that she is home with Alia during the day, she sees the cats, interferes with their naughtiness, stops them, punishes them, and generally prevents bad behavior. And now they mind her better and get into less trouble.
Does anybody think that children might react the same way, untended versus disciplined???
Does anybody think that children might react the same way, untended versus disciplined???
Monday, March 02, 2009
Today's Laugh
Top Ten Answers a Homeschooler Should NEVER Give When Out and About During the School Day and Somebody Asks, "What? No School Today??"
10. Well normally yes, but this time of year I need help with the planting and plowing.
9. Goodness, no!!! I graduated 18 years ago, but thanks for the compliment!
8. No, we homeschool. We're just out to pick up a bag of pork rinds and some Mountain Dew, then we gotta hurry home to catch our soaps.
7. What?! Where did you guys come from?! I thought I told you to stay at school! I'm sorry. This happens all the time. (sigh)
6. There isn't? Why, you'd think we'd see more kids out then, don't you?
5. We're on a field trip studying human nature's intrusive and assumptive tactics of displaying ignorance and implied superiority. Thanks for the peek!
4. On our planet we have different methods of education. (Shhhh! No, I did not give it away... keep your antennae down!)
3. Oh my goodness! I thought that today was Saturday... come on kids, hurry!
2. Noooooope. Me 'n Bubba jes' learns 'em at home. Werks reel good!
And the number one answer we should NEVER give to the question: "What? No school today?"
1. "What? No Bingo today?"
10. Well normally yes, but this time of year I need help with the planting and plowing.
9. Goodness, no!!! I graduated 18 years ago, but thanks for the compliment!
8. No, we homeschool. We're just out to pick up a bag of pork rinds and some Mountain Dew, then we gotta hurry home to catch our soaps.
7. What?! Where did you guys come from?! I thought I told you to stay at school! I'm sorry. This happens all the time. (sigh)
6. There isn't? Why, you'd think we'd see more kids out then, don't you?
5. We're on a field trip studying human nature's intrusive and assumptive tactics of displaying ignorance and implied superiority. Thanks for the peek!
4. On our planet we have different methods of education. (Shhhh! No, I did not give it away... keep your antennae down!)
3. Oh my goodness! I thought that today was Saturday... come on kids, hurry!
2. Noooooope. Me 'n Bubba jes' learns 'em at home. Werks reel good!
And the number one answer we should NEVER give to the question: "What? No school today?"
1. "What? No Bingo today?"
Sunday, March 01, 2009
Philip's Work
For Mom and other family members who might like to know more about Philip's job, here's a video segment from the news recently. (You have to put up with a 15-second commercial first.) And no, Philip did not end up in the finished segment. But he & Matt and some other friends did have a split-second on the news last night, from their stint waiting in line to win pizza.
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Today's Laugh
A blond woman with a good mind got tired of people laughing at her behind her back. So she applied herself at school, majored in American Literature, graduated Summa Cum Laude in her BA, MA, and PhD studies, in which she examined "The Bias and Basis for Humor Employed in 'Dumb Blonde Jokes.'" In a supreme act of vindication, she landed a contract with a major publishing firm to write a book of blonde jokes, which immediately landed on the NY Times Top 10 list and sold millions of copies and was translated into many foreign languages. She thought to herself that she would have the last laugh.
Still, everywhere she went, people laughed at her behind her back. On TV talk shows, especially the ones with brunette hosts. On radio shows, where it wasn't as obvious to the audience. Even at book signings, it seemed that people were trying to hold in a snicker every time they passed by her. It made her so mad she complained to a friend, "Here I am with advanced degrees in American Literature, a contract with a major publisher, and a hit joke book selling millions of copies in 30 different countries around the world, and people still treat me like a 'dumb blonde.'"
"Wow," said the friend. "Millions of copies? You must be raking in the royalties."
"Royalties?" said the blonde with a stunned look on her face. "What are royalties?"
Still, everywhere she went, people laughed at her behind her back. On TV talk shows, especially the ones with brunette hosts. On radio shows, where it wasn't as obvious to the audience. Even at book signings, it seemed that people were trying to hold in a snicker every time they passed by her. It made her so mad she complained to a friend, "Here I am with advanced degrees in American Literature, a contract with a major publisher, and a hit joke book selling millions of copies in 30 different countries around the world, and people still treat me like a 'dumb blonde.'"
"Wow," said the friend. "Millions of copies? You must be raking in the royalties."
"Royalties?" said the blonde with a stunned look on her face. "What are royalties?"
Friday, February 27, 2009
God Relented
Our story today is from Exodus 32, the story of the Israelites' worship of the golden calf at the foot of Sinai. Pastor pointed out that Moses interceded for the people and "God relented." But had the people repented yet? Nope. They were still scamming themselves into believing that they were worshiping Yahweh, calling the golden calf by the name of the true God. So it wasn't their contrition that caused God to relent; they didn't even know yet that God was angry at what they were doing. The thing that caused Him to relent from doing harm was His promise to Abraham, and Moses' appeal to remember His mercy.
Make-Up
I could sound all hippy and eco-conscious if I claimed that I didn't wear make-up because it's bad for your skin or whatever. But what's sad is that I don't wear make-up because my laziness is so big that it trumps even my vanity. Pitiful, eh?
I was going to say "at least I combed my hair today" but I'm not even certain I did that. Oy! My teeth are brushed though!
I was going to say "at least I combed my hair today" but I'm not even certain I did that. Oy! My teeth are brushed though!
Today's Laugh
A little over seven years ago, a friend was dying of stomach cancer at a young age. His folks had come to stay with his family, helping, and savoring their last weeks together. Scott had always been very witty, very quick-thinking, and hilarious. When he was the secretary for the circuit pastors' gatherings, the guys (and even their wives) snapped up the minutes of the meetings when they arrived in the mail. In what entertaining way would Scott present the boring details of the most recent meeting? Scott was probably the punniest guy I ever knew.
At the funeral, his mom told me her favorite pun of all. As she worried about missing him, and how the girls would miss their daddy, and how the next few weeks would go, Scott tried to reassure her with the promises of Christ and their reunion in heaven one day. And she said, "Well, I'm a mother, and sometimes mothers can't help but worry." And Scott's instantaneous answer was
"That's apparent."
At the funeral, his mom told me her favorite pun of all. As she worried about missing him, and how the girls would miss their daddy, and how the next few weeks would go, Scott tried to reassure her with the promises of Christ and their reunion in heaven one day. And she said, "Well, I'm a mother, and sometimes mothers can't help but worry." And Scott's instantaneous answer was
"That's apparent."
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Those Idols
My friend Sandy was recently in Kenya for a couple of weeks, doing some work on a hymnal that is being developed for/with the Lutherans there. She wrote back reports to some of us about her experiences, the people, the food, the living conditions, the worship, a safari they went on, etc.
While she was overseas, we here were getting news daily about what Congress wasplotting planning and how the stock market is reacting, what's going on with unemployment, etc. A person begins to wonder about what's going to happen to our homes, our food supply, our electricity, and all our other luxuries.
It's easy to point fingers and notice how other people are spoiled, how other people expect too much, and how other people flip out over the prospect of losing their lattes and their annual Disneyworld trips. But betwixt the sermons recently and Sandy's letters, I began to realize that I too think I need certain things. Forget the "wants" like my computer or my piano or my stove. Forget a retirement account or savings. Forget gasoline for the car. Even if I can grasp the concept of living without those things, I still think I need a house with a furnace, or at least an apartment, or a spot in a homeless shelter. I think I need my medicine (non-Rx though it is) and my sight. I think I need to eat every day, maybe not every meal, but at least once a day. I think I need hot running water. The thought of losing those things reveals my idols, the things I am not willing to do without, the things that give me comfort, the things I depend upon.
And yet, if we don't have food, or we don't have walls and heat, or we don't have the basic necessities of life, what will happen? Through much of history, throughout much of the world, people don't have things that we think are necessary. And they lived through it. Look at the beatings and the imprisonments and the shipwrecks that the Apostle Paul lived through. Look at the living conditions during the Middle Ages. They lived through it. And if they didn't --if we don't-- well, to live is Christ, to die is gain.
The cross shall never take away
my joy and praise undying.
For when the heart is most oppressed,
the harp of joy is tuned the best,
the better strains are ringing.
The cross itself, at Jesus' will,
must aid my soul, that I may still
in grief His praise be singing. (ELH 150)
I'm really not fond of the idea that I'm going to be stripped of my idols. But maybe that's what it's going to take to learn to say with all truthfulness, "Into Your hands I commit my spirit."
Till then, though, a person certainly gains a new appreciation for the gifts and luxuries we still have. The chance to sit on a couch next to your husband in your own living room, watching a video. The safety to walk through the streets unharmed. A car to drive me to a grocery store where the shelves are nearly full. And a hot shower every single day.
When I think about this objectively, it sounds so scary. And yet, it's not. My God, my Lover, my King, my Savior -- He is the one who knows what is and is not coming. He is the one who works these things out for the good of His bride the Church. He is the one who is doing good to me, even if my senses don't feeeel the goodness. And contrary to what may make me quake in fear, there actually is some very real comfort in this. If He would take on my flesh and my sin, if He would die for me in a most agonizing death, if He would take me to heaven to reign with Him, how can anything bad come from what some piddly little kings and judges and rulers might decide?
While she was overseas, we here were getting news daily about what Congress was
It's easy to point fingers and notice how other people are spoiled, how other people expect too much, and how other people flip out over the prospect of losing their lattes and their annual Disneyworld trips. But betwixt the sermons recently and Sandy's letters, I began to realize that I too think I need certain things. Forget the "wants" like my computer or my piano or my stove. Forget a retirement account or savings. Forget gasoline for the car. Even if I can grasp the concept of living without those things, I still think I need a house with a furnace, or at least an apartment, or a spot in a homeless shelter. I think I need my medicine (non-Rx though it is) and my sight. I think I need to eat every day, maybe not every meal, but at least once a day. I think I need hot running water. The thought of losing those things reveals my idols, the things I am not willing to do without, the things that give me comfort, the things I depend upon.
And yet, if we don't have food, or we don't have walls and heat, or we don't have the basic necessities of life, what will happen? Through much of history, throughout much of the world, people don't have things that we think are necessary. And they lived through it. Look at the beatings and the imprisonments and the shipwrecks that the Apostle Paul lived through. Look at the living conditions during the Middle Ages. They lived through it. And if they didn't --if we don't-- well, to live is Christ, to die is gain.
The cross shall never take away
my joy and praise undying.
For when the heart is most oppressed,
the harp of joy is tuned the best,
the better strains are ringing.
The cross itself, at Jesus' will,
must aid my soul, that I may still
in grief His praise be singing. (ELH 150)
I'm really not fond of the idea that I'm going to be stripped of my idols. But maybe that's what it's going to take to learn to say with all truthfulness, "Into Your hands I commit my spirit."
Till then, though, a person certainly gains a new appreciation for the gifts and luxuries we still have. The chance to sit on a couch next to your husband in your own living room, watching a video. The safety to walk through the streets unharmed. A car to drive me to a grocery store where the shelves are nearly full. And a hot shower every single day.
When I think about this objectively, it sounds so scary. And yet, it's not. My God, my Lover, my King, my Savior -- He is the one who knows what is and is not coming. He is the one who works these things out for the good of His bride the Church. He is the one who is doing good to me, even if my senses don't feeeel the goodness. And contrary to what may make me quake in fear, there actually is some very real comfort in this. If He would take on my flesh and my sin, if He would die for me in a most agonizing death, if He would take me to heaven to reign with Him, how can anything bad come from what some piddly little kings and judges and rulers might decide?
Frugality in These Days
So how does it work to be frugal now? I'm not sure. On the one hand, I want to hang onto my money, knowing that I'm going to be darn short of it in the near future. On the other hand, money is going to be losing its value pretty darn fast, so why hang onto it?
How frugal can a person be, anyway? Normally, we would be weighing the cost of going out to eat against the cost of 2-3 days worth of groceries for the family. Or weighing the cost of a roast for dinner against the cost of a bottle of digestive enzymes that will last the family about a month. Things like that. Is it worth it to buy the season pass to the county parks? Should we buy a subscription to the magazine that would help with homeschooling? How soon can I start hanging clothes on the line instead of paying to run the dryer? Can I continue to live with the flat [ie, unwashable] paint on the walls, or do I spend money (and time!!) on painting? Do we buy high-quality, unrefined foods even though they're more expensive, or do we buy whatever is cheapest? There are many things I think we "need," but when I think of where the economy is going, it's hard to think in terms of "need" when I fear we will be needing rice and beans so that we don't literally starve.
Yesterday we were reading in Penny Candy, and I realized why I'm confused about how tightwaddish to be right now. The author was reviewing the three stages of reaction to inflation. When the government increases the money supply, the first reaction is for people to hang onto their money because they don't like the rise in prices that results from the government inflating. The later response is for people to want to spend their money posthaste, quick quick, before the prices goes up higher. We finally proceed into runaway inflation when nobody wants to have money because it's so worthless, and we just gotta exchange our money for anything --ANYthing-- that has some value and can be traded for whatever else we may need.
So are we now in the stage where we hang onto our money, or where we are ready to get rid of it? And I don't know. On the one hand, I don't want to start spending spending spending, so as to have something --anything-- of value. If the results of the govt's inflation don't set in for a few years, then I want to have access to some money. But if the fallout hits soon, then what's the point of saving anything?
I guess this is part of the uncertainty that the economists talk about. How can businesses (or families) make plans for the future when nobody has any idea what changes the future holds?
How frugal can a person be, anyway? Normally, we would be weighing the cost of going out to eat against the cost of 2-3 days worth of groceries for the family. Or weighing the cost of a roast for dinner against the cost of a bottle of digestive enzymes that will last the family about a month. Things like that. Is it worth it to buy the season pass to the county parks? Should we buy a subscription to the magazine that would help with homeschooling? How soon can I start hanging clothes on the line instead of paying to run the dryer? Can I continue to live with the flat [ie, unwashable] paint on the walls, or do I spend money (and time!!) on painting? Do we buy high-quality, unrefined foods even though they're more expensive, or do we buy whatever is cheapest? There are many things I think we "need," but when I think of where the economy is going, it's hard to think in terms of "need" when I fear we will be needing rice and beans so that we don't literally starve.
Yesterday we were reading in Penny Candy, and I realized why I'm confused about how tightwaddish to be right now. The author was reviewing the three stages of reaction to inflation. When the government increases the money supply, the first reaction is for people to hang onto their money because they don't like the rise in prices that results from the government inflating. The later response is for people to want to spend their money posthaste, quick quick, before the prices goes up higher. We finally proceed into runaway inflation when nobody wants to have money because it's so worthless, and we just gotta exchange our money for anything --ANYthing-- that has some value and can be traded for whatever else we may need.
So are we now in the stage where we hang onto our money, or where we are ready to get rid of it? And I don't know. On the one hand, I don't want to start spending spending spending, so as to have something --anything-- of value. If the results of the govt's inflation don't set in for a few years, then I want to have access to some money. But if the fallout hits soon, then what's the point of saving anything?
I guess this is part of the uncertainty that the economists talk about. How can businesses (or families) make plans for the future when nobody has any idea what changes the future holds?
Today's Laugh
Q: Say you're in a car in Russia, driving really fast northwest. What are you?
A: Russian toward the Finnish.
And if you think that's bad...
Sixty years ago, you would've been in danger of Stalin.
A: Russian toward the Finnish.
And if you think that's bad...
Sixty years ago, you would've been in danger of Stalin.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Nursing Homes
We thought that Gary's job would be fairly secure, even in economically difficult times. After all, the company serves nursing homes. With the baby-boomers getting up there in years, nursing homes looked like it was one of those industries that would be growing instead of shrinking.
But one wonders, with the current administration. We've been training people for the last 30-40 years that life is disposable, especially when it's inconvenient to me. We kill babies. We kill the infirm. And although it's still illegal, we even "put people out of their misery" like as if they were beloved pets. With the plans for nationalized health care, and how high those costs are for the elderly and the disabled, I imagine that we will soon be finding certain people rather, uh, shall we say, "dispensable." It's pretty scary to think what's going to happen when we look at the money that's available, and throw that together with the whole idea that we're just animals anyway, and nobody should ever ever ever have to suffer.
But one wonders, with the current administration. We've been training people for the last 30-40 years that life is disposable, especially when it's inconvenient to me. We kill babies. We kill the infirm. And although it's still illegal, we even "put people out of their misery" like as if they were beloved pets. With the plans for nationalized health care, and how high those costs are for the elderly and the disabled, I imagine that we will soon be finding certain people rather, uh, shall we say, "dispensable." It's pretty scary to think what's going to happen when we look at the money that's available, and throw that together with the whole idea that we're just animals anyway, and nobody should ever ever ever have to suffer.
Weather
Last year, Ash Wednesday services were canceled due to the humongo snow storms, and we had "Ash Thursday" instead. This year, I went for my sunbath/exercise-walk and had to take off my coat because I was too warm. I heard the horses whinnying for joy in the sunshine. And the gutters are making a racket with all the melted water flowing off the roof. Ahhhhh.
If this is global warming, bring it on!!!
If this is global warming, bring it on!!!
Burning of the Palms
Usually we go to Matins and then come home. Pastor suggested today that we stay for opening at school. We did, and we heard readings from Gen 3 and from Is 40. Then we all went outside so that the palms from last year's Palm Sunday could be burned for the ashes that will be used later today.
So we stand there in the cold, watching the flames lick up the dry palm leaves. "The grass withers. The flower fades. But the word of our God stands forever."
Man, remember that you are dust. And to dust you shall return.
So, to dust we shall return.
But after my skin is destroyed, this I know (because the word of our God stands forever) that in my flesh I shall see God.
Because
while we remember that we are dust, the Lord remembers His tender mercies and His lovingkindnesses, for they are from old. He does not remember the sins of our youth nor our transgressions. According to His mercy He remembers us for His goodness' sake.
So we stand there in the cold, watching the flames lick up the dry palm leaves. "The grass withers. The flower fades. But the word of our God stands forever."
Man, remember that you are dust. And to dust you shall return.
So, to dust we shall return.
But after my skin is destroyed, this I know (because the word of our God stands forever) that in my flesh I shall see God.
Because
while we remember that we are dust, the Lord remembers His tender mercies and His lovingkindnesses, for they are from old. He does not remember the sins of our youth nor our transgressions. According to His mercy He remembers us for His goodness' sake.
Today's Laugh
DEFICIENT NOUN DISEASE
Do you commonly find yourself calling your children by the wrong name, and feel like kicking yourself for spending so much time selecting just the right name for each child?
Do you find yourself saying to your child, "Sure, I know where you left your cookie. It's on the long white horizontal surface in the kitchen... you know, the one with the thing we cook with on one end and the thing we put stuff in to keep it cold on the other end? Um... there's a sink in it?"
Do you tell people on the phone that you'll be happy to take a message, just as soon as you find a "message-writing-down thingamabob?"
In fact, do all the nouns in your vocabulary, nouns which have been your friends and companions since you were two years old, suddenly become "thingies" when you are under pressure? You may be suffering from deficient noun disease.
Deficient noun disease, or DND, is a common affliction among mothers of small children (older children too). While not a dangerous illness, DND is an exasperating and frustrating one which increases in severity in direct proportion to the number of children in the household.
Common symptoms of DND include the following: Calling children by each other's names, forgetting the proper names for common household objects, and casually referring to other adults not as "John and Jane" but as "those people with the pool who barbecue every Friday." Another common symptom is the frequent use of the WRONG noun in a given situation, rather like mild aphasia. Someone with this particular type of DND might say, "Put your plate on the stove... I mean on the counter... I mean ON THE TABLE!"
A less common symptom displayed by some DND sufferers is an ailment also referred to as the "Crossword" Syndrome. With this particular type of DND-related illness, the affected person might declare, "Oh, yes, I know her name. Let's see... it starts with an S, has five letters...."
DND, although virtually untreatable and incurable, can still be endured with a minimum of pain and embarrassment if the afflicted person makes use of the following handy coping mechanisms.
One method of coping with the disease involves the clever use of nicknames, which can easily apply to any individual in the family, like Dear or Sweetheart. This method breaks down when the DND sufferer is faced with the necessity of differentiating between individuals, or when she is talking to several people at one time, so the use of group nicknames, like referring to everyone in the room as "Y'all", a common Southern coping mechanism, is recommended.
Another good way to conceal DND from your friends and family members is to develop the habit of pausing in your sentences when reaching a crucial noun. If the pause is long enough, the other individual will attempt to guess the noun for you, and you need only respond in the affirmative when the correct noun is reached. Although this method may take time, it certainly adds suspense to an otherwise ordinary conversation.
The information available on DND is still patchy and incomplete, due to the unnecessary shame felt by many mothers who do not realize that this illness is wide-spread and quite common. Very few mothers are able to call their children by name, and it is difficult for them to believe that the time invested in picking out those names was, to put it bluntly, wasted.
When education has removed the stigma from the minds of all women, this disease might very well be shown to be the most common affliction in human history.
The cause of DND is not yet known; some scientists believe that using a word over 100,000 times in the course of a lifetime may simply fade that word from long-term memory; mothers simply reach the lifetime limit earlier because they must repeat themselves so often. Other scientists hold up the two-year old child as proof positive that the repetition of a word more than 100,000 times (in this case, the word Mommy) does not cause selective noun amnesia.
Although modern science may never be able to cure DND or discover what exactly causes it, we as mothers and fellow sufferers can still help one another to recognize the illness and learn to live in harmony with it.
The next time you hear yourself shouting, "CLAUDIA--CODY--BETSY--LOGAN--JILL .... YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE! GET IN HERE!" you can comfort yourself with the knowledge that mothers all over the world are doing the same thing.
Do you commonly find yourself calling your children by the wrong name, and feel like kicking yourself for spending so much time selecting just the right name for each child?
Do you find yourself saying to your child, "Sure, I know where you left your cookie. It's on the long white horizontal surface in the kitchen... you know, the one with the thing we cook with on one end and the thing we put stuff in to keep it cold on the other end? Um... there's a sink in it?"
Do you tell people on the phone that you'll be happy to take a message, just as soon as you find a "message-writing-down thingamabob?"
In fact, do all the nouns in your vocabulary, nouns which have been your friends and companions since you were two years old, suddenly become "thingies" when you are under pressure? You may be suffering from deficient noun disease.
Deficient noun disease, or DND, is a common affliction among mothers of small children (older children too). While not a dangerous illness, DND is an exasperating and frustrating one which increases in severity in direct proportion to the number of children in the household.
Common symptoms of DND include the following: Calling children by each other's names, forgetting the proper names for common household objects, and casually referring to other adults not as "John and Jane" but as "those people with the pool who barbecue every Friday." Another common symptom is the frequent use of the WRONG noun in a given situation, rather like mild aphasia. Someone with this particular type of DND might say, "Put your plate on the stove... I mean on the counter... I mean ON THE TABLE!"
A less common symptom displayed by some DND sufferers is an ailment also referred to as the "Crossword" Syndrome. With this particular type of DND-related illness, the affected person might declare, "Oh, yes, I know her name. Let's see... it starts with an S, has five letters...."
DND, although virtually untreatable and incurable, can still be endured with a minimum of pain and embarrassment if the afflicted person makes use of the following handy coping mechanisms.
One method of coping with the disease involves the clever use of nicknames, which can easily apply to any individual in the family, like Dear or Sweetheart. This method breaks down when the DND sufferer is faced with the necessity of differentiating between individuals, or when she is talking to several people at one time, so the use of group nicknames, like referring to everyone in the room as "Y'all", a common Southern coping mechanism, is recommended.
Another good way to conceal DND from your friends and family members is to develop the habit of pausing in your sentences when reaching a crucial noun. If the pause is long enough, the other individual will attempt to guess the noun for you, and you need only respond in the affirmative when the correct noun is reached. Although this method may take time, it certainly adds suspense to an otherwise ordinary conversation.
The information available on DND is still patchy and incomplete, due to the unnecessary shame felt by many mothers who do not realize that this illness is wide-spread and quite common. Very few mothers are able to call their children by name, and it is difficult for them to believe that the time invested in picking out those names was, to put it bluntly, wasted.
When education has removed the stigma from the minds of all women, this disease might very well be shown to be the most common affliction in human history.
The cause of DND is not yet known; some scientists believe that using a word over 100,000 times in the course of a lifetime may simply fade that word from long-term memory; mothers simply reach the lifetime limit earlier because they must repeat themselves so often. Other scientists hold up the two-year old child as proof positive that the repetition of a word more than 100,000 times (in this case, the word Mommy) does not cause selective noun amnesia.
Although modern science may never be able to cure DND or discover what exactly causes it, we as mothers and fellow sufferers can still help one another to recognize the illness and learn to live in harmony with it.
The next time you hear yourself shouting, "CLAUDIA--CODY--BETSY--LOGAN--JILL .... YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE! GET IN HERE!" you can comfort yourself with the knowledge that mothers all over the world are doing the same thing.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Bathroom Vent
Breathing fiberglass dust makes me cough.
While dusting the hallway yesterday, I noticed this ugly mark on the ceiling. Gee, am I really that unobservant that I hadn't noticed that before? I thought so. I asked the kids; they didn't think they remembered that mark on the ceiling either. I made a note of it to mention to Gary when he got home. However, he was preaching on Monday night in Shorewood, so it would be a 30-hour wait until he got home to where he could do any checking or fixing for me.
So then I'm cleaning in the bathroom later. Dusting the door frame [yes, I know, this weird fit of cleaning-cleaning instead of just fudging along with a wiped sink or a mopped floor] I found a puddle. Right near the spot on the hallway ceiling. Hmmmm.
So I investigated in the attic. I discovered a new problem that I'd never heard of before. The steam being sucked out of the bathroom has been condensing in the vent-tubing as it passes through the attic on its way outside. And then it freezes. With the warmth yesterday, water was sloshing around in the vent-tubing and there were hunks of ice rattling around in there too. This is where the soppy drips had originated to mess up my hallway ceiling. Geeminy Christmas!
Okay, so I take a bucket upstairs into the attic, intending to separate the tubes where they had been spliced together, and dump the water into the bucket. Uhhhh... news-flash to Susan. Water goes DOWNHILL. So my plan worked hunky-dory for the water and ice in the half of the tube connected to the exhaust-vent in the roof. But the water and ice in the half of the tube connected to the bathroom ceiling.... ummm... it went flowing downhill and splashed through the vent-machine, all over the bathroom floor and toilet and counter and into the litter box.
And it was icky yuck nasty dirty water!
Well, good thing I hadn't gotten far in the bathroom cleaning.
After I removed the motor and the vent-fan from the bathroom ceiling, Andrew held the bucket underneath the hole and held open the flap on the tubing so that I could go upstairs and empty the rest of the water from the tubing. We ended up getting more than a gallon out of the tube.
It dried overnight. This morning I rearranged the tubes in the attic so that they no longer leave the bathroom ceiling-vent, dip down, do a 180° turn, travel relatively horizontally across the attic (with a few more mild roller-coaster ups-and-downs), and then make a 90° turn up to the exhaust spot. I cut a bunch of the tubing out, re-spliced it, and used string to hang the tube from the roof joists so that the vent-tube is much closer to being a straight shot from the bathroom vent to the exhaust-spot in the roof.
I'm a little worried about that. For one thing, some of the online advice said that having it be a straight shot leaves the possibility for condensed steam to run back toward the bathroom instead of making it all the way out of the house. Hmm. Could be. But would that be any worse than having the steam pile up and pile up in ice chunks all through the winter? The other problem is that I noticed it's colder in the bathroom now. That could be simply because somebody had opened the bathroom window earlier. But that was long enough before that it doesn't seem to be an adequate explanation for the chillier bathroom temps.
On the other hand, I took an intentionally long, hot, steamy shower after I got myself out of the fiberglassy attic. Just a scientific experiment, y'know. Not because I wanted a long, hot, steamy shower. Oh no! I kept peeking out at the mirror. It took longer to steam up than normal. When I got out of the shower, there didn't seem to be any steam swirling around in the air. Hmm. That's a good sign. So then we decided to play with matches and experiment with some nice visible air. We tested what happened to the smoke from the matches in the little bathroom where the vent was off, and what happened to the smoke near the vent in operation in the big bathroom. And you could tell that the vent was really drawing! So, I'm hoping that it's fixed. Wow. I fixed something!
(And if anybody knows that something I fixed is going to create a new problem, please let me know before I discover it the hard way.)
While dusting the hallway yesterday, I noticed this ugly mark on the ceiling. Gee, am I really that unobservant that I hadn't noticed that before? I thought so. I asked the kids; they didn't think they remembered that mark on the ceiling either. I made a note of it to mention to Gary when he got home. However, he was preaching on Monday night in Shorewood, so it would be a 30-hour wait until he got home to where he could do any checking or fixing for me.
So then I'm cleaning in the bathroom later. Dusting the door frame [yes, I know, this weird fit of cleaning-cleaning instead of just fudging along with a wiped sink or a mopped floor] I found a puddle. Right near the spot on the hallway ceiling. Hmmmm.
So I investigated in the attic. I discovered a new problem that I'd never heard of before. The steam being sucked out of the bathroom has been condensing in the vent-tubing as it passes through the attic on its way outside. And then it freezes. With the warmth yesterday, water was sloshing around in the vent-tubing and there were hunks of ice rattling around in there too. This is where the soppy drips had originated to mess up my hallway ceiling. Geeminy Christmas!
Okay, so I take a bucket upstairs into the attic, intending to separate the tubes where they had been spliced together, and dump the water into the bucket. Uhhhh... news-flash to Susan. Water goes DOWNHILL. So my plan worked hunky-dory for the water and ice in the half of the tube connected to the exhaust-vent in the roof. But the water and ice in the half of the tube connected to the bathroom ceiling.... ummm... it went flowing downhill and splashed through the vent-machine, all over the bathroom floor and toilet and counter and into the litter box.
And it was icky yuck nasty dirty water!
Well, good thing I hadn't gotten far in the bathroom cleaning.
After I removed the motor and the vent-fan from the bathroom ceiling, Andrew held the bucket underneath the hole and held open the flap on the tubing so that I could go upstairs and empty the rest of the water from the tubing. We ended up getting more than a gallon out of the tube.
It dried overnight. This morning I rearranged the tubes in the attic so that they no longer leave the bathroom ceiling-vent, dip down, do a 180° turn, travel relatively horizontally across the attic (with a few more mild roller-coaster ups-and-downs), and then make a 90° turn up to the exhaust spot. I cut a bunch of the tubing out, re-spliced it, and used string to hang the tube from the roof joists so that the vent-tube is much closer to being a straight shot from the bathroom vent to the exhaust-spot in the roof.
I'm a little worried about that. For one thing, some of the online advice said that having it be a straight shot leaves the possibility for condensed steam to run back toward the bathroom instead of making it all the way out of the house. Hmm. Could be. But would that be any worse than having the steam pile up and pile up in ice chunks all through the winter? The other problem is that I noticed it's colder in the bathroom now. That could be simply because somebody had opened the bathroom window earlier. But that was long enough before that it doesn't seem to be an adequate explanation for the chillier bathroom temps.
On the other hand, I took an intentionally long, hot, steamy shower after I got myself out of the fiberglassy attic. Just a scientific experiment, y'know. Not because I wanted a long, hot, steamy shower. Oh no! I kept peeking out at the mirror. It took longer to steam up than normal. When I got out of the shower, there didn't seem to be any steam swirling around in the air. Hmm. That's a good sign. So then we decided to play with matches and experiment with some nice visible air. We tested what happened to the smoke from the matches in the little bathroom where the vent was off, and what happened to the smoke near the vent in operation in the big bathroom. And you could tell that the vent was really drawing! So, I'm hoping that it's fixed. Wow. I fixed something!
(And if anybody knows that something I fixed is going to create a new problem, please let me know before I discover it the hard way.)
Today's Laugh
In this life, I'm a woman. In my next life, I'd like to come back as a bear. When you're a bear, you get to hibernate. You do nothing but sleep for six months. I could deal with that.
Before you hibernate, you're supposed to eat yourself stupid. I could deal with that, too.
When you're a girl bear, you birth your children (who are the size of walnuts) while you're sleeping and wake to partially grown, cute, cuddly cubs. I could definitely deal with that.
If you're a mama bear, everyone knows you mean business. You swat anyone who bothers your cubs. If your cubs get out of line, you swat them too. I could deal with that.
If you're a bear, your mate expects you to wake up growling. He expects that you will have hairy legs and excess body fat.
Yup, gonna be a bear.
Before you hibernate, you're supposed to eat yourself stupid. I could deal with that, too.
When you're a girl bear, you birth your children (who are the size of walnuts) while you're sleeping and wake to partially grown, cute, cuddly cubs. I could definitely deal with that.
If you're a mama bear, everyone knows you mean business. You swat anyone who bothers your cubs. If your cubs get out of line, you swat them too. I could deal with that.
If you're a bear, your mate expects you to wake up growling. He expects that you will have hairy legs and excess body fat.
Yup, gonna be a bear.
Monday, February 23, 2009
Teaching Kids to Save
Some people are just more willing to hoard money and some people are just, by nature, more willing to fritter it away.
So parents do what they can to teach. Sometimes they enforce rules about savings, so that the rules will overcome the child's lack of knowledge, and then later he can discover how much he's amassed and can buy. Woo hoo -- he didn't spend it all on TicTacs, one pack a week, and now he's got $15 to buy a DVD. Or yee-haw, Dad wouldn't let him spend $15 per week on the DVDs, and now he's got $250 to buy a bicycle.
OR, sometimes, parents let their children learn the lesson the hard way. Maybe the child is allowed to spend the money in a way that the parent knows is unwise. But then el-Kid has no money later when there's something pricier he desires. That is, theoretically, when el-Kid learns the pain of frittering instead of saving.
But here's the booger.
What happens when the kid isN'T consumeristic enough to ache over that expensive thing he can't have? Hey! He didn't learn the lesson. He was supposed to learn "oh, this was a mistake; I shouldn't've spent my money on candy and $1 toys." But if he thinks "no biggie to do without the iPod for another several years" then where is the lesson?
Maybe Mom's NO-YOU-CAN'T-SPEND-IT is the only way for some kids...
So parents do what they can to teach. Sometimes they enforce rules about savings, so that the rules will overcome the child's lack of knowledge, and then later he can discover how much he's amassed and can buy. Woo hoo -- he didn't spend it all on TicTacs, one pack a week, and now he's got $15 to buy a DVD. Or yee-haw, Dad wouldn't let him spend $15 per week on the DVDs, and now he's got $250 to buy a bicycle.
OR, sometimes, parents let their children learn the lesson the hard way. Maybe the child is allowed to spend the money in a way that the parent knows is unwise. But then el-Kid has no money later when there's something pricier he desires. That is, theoretically, when el-Kid learns the pain of frittering instead of saving.
But here's the booger.
What happens when the kid isN'T consumeristic enough to ache over that expensive thing he can't have? Hey! He didn't learn the lesson. He was supposed to learn "oh, this was a mistake; I shouldn't've spent my money on candy and $1 toys." But if he thinks "no biggie to do without the iPod for another several years" then where is the lesson?
Maybe Mom's NO-YOU-CAN'T-SPEND-IT is the only way for some kids...
Meal Plans
To simplify meal planning once upon a time, we set up a weekly menu and just did the same thing for meals every week. This definitely saved brain-effort on coming up with dinner ideas. But it burned out a few people on spaghetti, and it got boring doing the same cooking week after week.
Planning out a month's worth of meals at a time (or even a week's) doesn't suit me well because it doesn't take into account days when we're not hungry, or when Gary has dinner at work, or the sale prices at the grocery store, or the leftovers, or the fresh produce available.
For a long time, when I still had my weekly trips to Woodmans, I would buy whatever was cheap, and make notes on my grocery list of what meals the items were going to be turned into. I'd jot those on the refrigerator's memo board, and pick something off the list each day that would fit for that day. That worked the best of all the plans we've tried. But now I don't have weekly trips to Woodmans.
So the new plan is to have ideas written down that incorporate the foods we like, a spread of nutritional variety, with a variety of time requirements for preparation, and a lot of relatively inexpensive foods.
Here's the list I came up with.
Some of it is seasonally restricted.
Don't try to do the math. The "month" amounts to about 50+ days.
Weekly
Roasted veggies
Frozen veggies x3
Lettuce salad x2
Carrots or squash
Tuna salad
Fried eggs
PBJs x 2
Smoothies x2
Burrito
Bi-Weekly
Creamed spinach
Pumpkin pie
Apple Betty
Salsa & chips
Meatloaf
Tilapia
Pot roast
Pizza lentils
Teriyaki hicken & rice
Chicken soup
Pizza
Spaghetti
Bubble-n-squeak
Monthly
Baked beans
Lentil soup
Red beans & rice
Split pea soup
Ham & beans
Black-eyed peas & bacon
Bk bean & corn patties
Potato bar
Clam chowder
Tomato soup & grilled cheese
Chili
Cowboy soup
Mexican corn chowder
French onion soup
Waffles
Pancakes
Nachos
BLTs
Salmon patties
Tuna casserole
Clams on spaghetti
Crab & screw noodles
Stir fry
Beef & noodles
Chicken, bk bean, corn, rice
Lasagna
Penna rosa
Ham
Hamburgers
Brats
Salmon fillets
Barbecue pork
Sub sandwiches
Stroganoff
Gumbo
Stuffed peppers
Tamale pie
Taco salad
Creamed corn
Planning out a month's worth of meals at a time (or even a week's) doesn't suit me well because it doesn't take into account days when we're not hungry, or when Gary has dinner at work, or the sale prices at the grocery store, or the leftovers, or the fresh produce available.
For a long time, when I still had my weekly trips to Woodmans, I would buy whatever was cheap, and make notes on my grocery list of what meals the items were going to be turned into. I'd jot those on the refrigerator's memo board, and pick something off the list each day that would fit for that day. That worked the best of all the plans we've tried. But now I don't have weekly trips to Woodmans.
So the new plan is to have ideas written down that incorporate the foods we like, a spread of nutritional variety, with a variety of time requirements for preparation, and a lot of relatively inexpensive foods.
Here's the list I came up with.
Some of it is seasonally restricted.
Don't try to do the math. The "month" amounts to about 50+ days.
Weekly
Roasted veggies
Frozen veggies x3
Lettuce salad x2
Carrots or squash
Tuna salad
Fried eggs
PBJs x 2
Smoothies x2
Burrito
Bi-Weekly
Creamed spinach
Pumpkin pie
Apple Betty
Salsa & chips
Meatloaf
Tilapia
Pot roast
Pizza lentils
Teriyaki hicken & rice
Chicken soup
Pizza
Spaghetti
Bubble-n-squeak
Monthly
Baked beans
Lentil soup
Red beans & rice
Split pea soup
Ham & beans
Black-eyed peas & bacon
Bk bean & corn patties
Potato bar
Clam chowder
Tomato soup & grilled cheese
Chili
Cowboy soup
Mexican corn chowder
French onion soup
Waffles
Pancakes
Nachos
BLTs
Salmon patties
Tuna casserole
Clams on spaghetti
Crab & screw noodles
Stir fry
Beef & noodles
Chicken, bk bean, corn, rice
Lasagna
Penna rosa
Ham
Hamburgers
Brats
Salmon fillets
Barbecue pork
Sub sandwiches
Stroganoff
Gumbo
Stuffed peppers
Tamale pie
Taco salad
Creamed corn
According to Your Word
We are in the midst of praying Psalm 119 right now. I have been stunned by how often if says "according to Your word" or "according to Your lovingkindness" or "according to Your mercy."
So I counted. Do you know what?? It says NINETEEN times "according to Your..." something-or-other.
Two of those (verses 9 and 169) are kinda sorta Third-Article-y. And one (verse 91) is kinda sorta First-Article-y. But all the rest are very much about God's promises of mercy and goodness and hanging onto us and making us alive. This line shows up in more than 10% of the verses in that psalm, about how we pray on the basis of "hey, You said...; You promised!"
I think that's very cool.
So I counted. Do you know what?? It says NINETEEN times "according to Your..." something-or-other.
Two of those (verses 9 and 169) are kinda sorta Third-Article-y. And one (verse 91) is kinda sorta First-Article-y. But all the rest are very much about God's promises of mercy and goodness and hanging onto us and making us alive. This line shows up in more than 10% of the verses in that psalm, about how we pray on the basis of "hey, You said...; You promised!"
I think that's very cool.
Why Did Jonah Finally Go?
Now the word of the Lord came to Jonah the second time, saying, "Arise, go to Nineveh, that great city, and preach to it the message that I tell you." So Jonah arose and went to Nineveh, according to the word of the Lord.
So did Jonah go just because he figured God was a big meanie who would zot him if he didn't go like he was told???
When we studied the third chapter of Jonah recently, we spent a lot of time talking about the theology of the cross.
Jonah may have had head-knowledge of God's word and God's mercy, but he didn't trust in it, and he didn't want that mercy extended to Israel's enemy. So he tried to run away to Tarshish.
So God drowned his Old Adam in the sea and in the great fish. Jonah did not throw himself overboard; he was thrown. Jonah did not put himself into the fish; he was swallowed. He did not save himself from the fish's belly; he was vomited out. It was all done TO him.
Neither do we kill our Old Adam. We can't. We like him too much. We enjoy him too much. We don't like being killed.
So God, in His mercy, puts to death the unbelief in us. When our head-knowledge is right, but the trust of our heart is still divided, God saves us by smashing our wrong beliefs. This is not a happy and fun thing. It hurts. A lot. But God is patient and will continue being faithful to us until His work of death/resurrection in us accomplishes what He desires.
So did Jonah go just because he figured God was a big meanie who would zot him if he didn't go like he was told???
When we studied the third chapter of Jonah recently, we spent a lot of time talking about the theology of the cross.
Jonah may have had head-knowledge of God's word and God's mercy, but he didn't trust in it, and he didn't want that mercy extended to Israel's enemy. So he tried to run away to Tarshish.
So God drowned his Old Adam in the sea and in the great fish. Jonah did not throw himself overboard; he was thrown. Jonah did not put himself into the fish; he was swallowed. He did not save himself from the fish's belly; he was vomited out. It was all done TO him.
Neither do we kill our Old Adam. We can't. We like him too much. We enjoy him too much. We don't like being killed.
So God, in His mercy, puts to death the unbelief in us. When our head-knowledge is right, but the trust of our heart is still divided, God saves us by smashing our wrong beliefs. This is not a happy and fun thing. It hurts. A lot. But God is patient and will continue being faithful to us until His work of death/resurrection in us accomplishes what He desires.
Why Moses and Elijah?
'Tis good, Lord, to be here,
Thy beauty to behold,
where Moses and Elijah stand,
Thy messengers of old.
The collect for Transfiguration used to say "has confirmed the mysteries of the faith by the testimony of the fathers" but now it says "by the testimony of Moses and Elijah." So my mind stumbled over that while Pastor was saying the words during the prayer. But it got me to thinking during the readings and the sermon. WHY Moses and Elijah? Why were they the ones on the mountain?
And here's my suspicion. They were (if my memory is working right) the only ones who
1) saw God, and
2) had their lives threatened for being faithful prophets.
Abraham and Jacob and Joshua saw God.
All sorts of prophets were either killed by their people, or were in danger of being killed by their hearers: Jeremiah, David, Isaiah, etc.
But I can't think of anybody but Moses and Elijah who were there with God, talking to Him, not necessarily face-to-face, but physically present with Him, AND who were with God at that moment because their lives were in danger due to their preaching.
Thy beauty to behold,
where Moses and Elijah stand,
Thy messengers of old.
The collect for Transfiguration used to say "has confirmed the mysteries of the faith by the testimony of the fathers" but now it says "by the testimony of Moses and Elijah." So my mind stumbled over that while Pastor was saying the words during the prayer. But it got me to thinking during the readings and the sermon. WHY Moses and Elijah? Why were they the ones on the mountain?
And here's my suspicion. They were (if my memory is working right) the only ones who
1) saw God, and
2) had their lives threatened for being faithful prophets.
Abraham and Jacob and Joshua saw God.
All sorts of prophets were either killed by their people, or were in danger of being killed by their hearers: Jeremiah, David, Isaiah, etc.
But I can't think of anybody but Moses and Elijah who were there with God, talking to Him, not necessarily face-to-face, but physically present with Him, AND who were with God at that moment because their lives were in danger due to their preaching.
Today's Laugh
Two trucks loaded with a thousand copies of Roget's Thesaurus collided as they left a New York publishing house last Thursday, according to the Associated Press. Witnesses were stunned, startled, aghast, taken aback, stupefied...
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