But Isn't It So Obvious It Doesn't Need to Be Said?

Proofreading yesterday, I came across the first line of a couple of prayers drawn from the Table of Duties. One began, "Heavenly Father, comfort all widows who have lost their husbands and are left all alone." The other began, "Heavenly Father, comfort all widowers who have lost their wives and are left without a spouse to love."

With my red pen in hand, I wondered if we were distinguishing between "widows who have lost their husbands" and "widows who haven't"? What kind of goofiness would that be?? Isn't "widows who have lost their husbands" a redundancy that needs to be struck, a la Strunk & White's rules for using the least amount of words possible?

I thought about that.

And I decided that proofreading theology is worlds apart from proofreading other English.

So often, in our prayers, we are redundant. We say back to God things He has said to us. We repeat ourselves. We speak words that are obvious, like "O Lord, the source of all that is good."

But why?

Because faith lives from the word. We say what is true. We agree with God. Our faith in His provision, for example, is strengthened when we hear (from pastor's mouth in catechesis, from our own mouths in prayer, or from a friend's mouth in the 'mutual conversation and consolation of the brethren') that the Lord IS "the source of all that is good."

In the prayers I was proofreading yesterday, we begin with "widows who have lost their husbands" because that loss is pertinent to what's coming up in the prayer about Jesus being our Bridegroom and providing all satisfaction and joy and comfort to those who have lost a husband. When it comes to theology and liturgy, being concise isn't always the best choice.

Today's Laugh

The Most Beautiful Window Sill

Tis the season.

Hoping for another 8-10 weeks of a window sill that remains decorated with at least this many lovelies at all times.

Lunch today was a cheese-&-tomato sandwich. (Eat your heart out, Rachel!) Home-made bread. Home-made mayonnaise. Home-grown tomatoes. Home-grown basil. I did buy the cheese.

Heavenly.

Garden Report

Raspberries in the garden are slowing down. And that's where all the mosquitoes live. The goofy raspberries growing under the lilac bush, under the eaves of the house, those are still still producing well. The mosquito situation there has been downgraded from "atrocious and unbearable" to just "bad."

I see no fruit on the Hubbard squash vines yet, but the vines are huge and healthy and flowering.

Cucumber vines are the same, but they now have itty-bitty cukes that will need 3-6 days yet before we can start harvesting little ones.

A few tomatoes have come indoors. The plants are huge. I was worried I pruned them too much. Uh, no. They're fine. Almost too lush, still.

Kohlrabi and spinach are done. Second planting of lettuce is beginning to peek through. Carrots just do NOT want to grow. Ate half of the second planting of beets in last weekend's stew.

Cilantro doesn't want to grow either. Either it pokes along doing nothing. Or it grows big fast and then --BOOM-- goes to seed and the leaves get all thin and spindly. Don't know what to do about that.

Basil is plenteous. Haven't gotten around to making pesto yet. Just slapping leaves onto sandwiches or into salads.

My one lonely zucchini plant is producing just about the right amount of zucchini for our family ... so long as I keep nabbing those boogers off the vine when they're 7" long instead of 27".

Yesterday the green beans were tiny little threads. Today they're nearly big enough to pick. Tomorrow I douse myself in DEET and then harvest a small batch of beans. Lots of beans didn't germinate. And the growin-like-crazy cukes and winter squash took over the place where I was going to put my third planting of beans. So they'll be sparse this summer.

Blackberries are looking great! Grapes are looking pitiful. There were only a few small clusters, but most of them withered up on the vine. Hmmm. I hope that's not a long-term problem.

None of the gladiolas came up. Oh well. I like food better than flowers anyway.

Gotta figure out how to help the apple trees. They were great last year, even though that was their first year in the ground. I wonder what did I did wrong.

Asparagus continuing to establish itself nicely for future years.

My perennial onions (also known as "walking onions") have established themselves beautifully. Backwoods Home once mentioned that these can give you onions nearly year-round, and they also make a good deer deterrent for the garden. Win-win situation, it sounds like to me!

We did MUCH work on the strawberry patch in late June and early July. Ripped out half the patch (in stripes), and dug up the dirt aisles so that runners could set down roots and start developing next year's plants. Looking at how few and tiny they are right now, I can't imagine they could possibly give us berries next year. I will have to remember this year's over-crowded patch, and be heartless next spring in digging out the aisles of plants that remain at the moment, allowing the current dirt-aisles to become the lush plants which will bear.

Love

When the kids were little, we memorized 1 John 4:7-8 through one of those camp songs or a "Wee Sing Bible" tape or something. Running across that verse today, I realized that the song takes the verse out of context. The ditty allows for many a varied understanding of love, what God's love is, what our love is.

But if you go past verse 8, you see that love is the incarnation of the Son of God, and His suffering and death to propitiate our sins. That is how we have life.

And that is what love is.

A Cup of Tea, Perhaps?

We drink water.

There's milk in the house: for cooking, to pour on your granola, about a cup a day for the kids to drink, and for those rare treats when there are cookies. But we see it as a liquid food, not a beverage. Same for fruit juice when we have it.

Maybe once a week we'll break out a beer. Maybe every 4-6 weeks we'll put on a pot of coffee. (Philip makes coffee here more than we do, and he doesn't even live here. LOL.) All my rabid tea-drinking children have grown up, so we're no longer burning through that. (Rachel could go through a 20-bag box in a week by herself.) Kombucha is here, but I see that more as medicinal than as a beverage: probiotics, enzymes, helping the digestion and the immune system, etc.

No kool-aid, no pop, no gatorade. Seldom lemonade. We have made a pitcher of iced tea probably four times in the last month. On the hot days, when we have to be working outside in the sun, the iced tea is refreshing and cooling and spirit-energizing in a way that water is not. ("Oooooh, looky, I get to reward myself for mowing!")



Yesterday my friend Julie stopped by to drop off an item. Her daughter and Maggie headed off to chat a bit, so I offered Julie a glass of water and we sat down to chat so the girls could have some time. Had a great time visiting!

A few hours later I realized that it's probably not very hospitable to offer a glass of water. Better to offer guests a pop or a lemonade or a tall glass of mint tea. But it never crossed my mind. We don't have those things at hand, and we seldom drink them, so I offered what we had. And you know what's so cool? I didn't feel awkward (at least, not at the time) and I'm pretty sure Julie didn't think anything of it. It's so good to have friends who are that comfortable and loving!

Today's Laugh

It was the final examination for an introductory biology course at the local university. Like many such freshman courses, it was designed to weed out new students, having over 500 students in the class.

The examination was two hours long, and exam booklets were provided. The professor was very strict and told the class that any exam that was not on his desk in exactly two hours would not be accepted and the student would fail. Half an hour into the exam, a student came rushing in and asked the professor for an exam booklet.

"You're not going to have time to finish this," the professor stated sarcastically as he handed the student a booklet.

"Yes I will," replied the student. He then took a seat and began writing. After two hours, the professor called for the exams, and the students filed up and handed them in -- all except the late student, who continued writing. An hour later, the last student came up to the professor who was sitting at his desk preparing for his next class. He attempted to put his exam on the stack of exam booklets already there.

"No, you don't. I'm not going to accept that. It's late."

The student looked incredulous and angry.

"Do you know who I am?"

"No, as a matter of fact, I don't," replied the professor with irritation in his voice.

"Do you know who I am?" the student asked again in a louder voice.

"No, and I don't care," replied the professor with an air of superiority.

"Good," replied the student. He quickly lifted the stack of completed exams, stuffed his in the middle, and walked out of the room.

Praying with a Crucifix

What God ordains is always good:
this truth remains unshaken.
Though sorrow, need, or death be mine,
I shall not be forsaken.
I fear no harm,
for with His arm
He shall embrace and shield me;
So to my God I yield me. (TLH 521 or LSB 760)


I wrote the other day about the importance of having a crucifix in the chancel so that the people might be rightly focused on the cross of Jesus and so that its message might be superimposed (like a transparency) upon all that we think and pray and sing and hear in the Service.

We sang "What God Ordains Is Always Good" yesterday. With the crucifix before you, the story of Good Friday is brought to mind. Jesus remained unshaken in His trust of the Father. Jesus cried, "My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me" in His sorrow and death. That substitutionary atonement means that we will NOT be forsaken in our sorrow, need, and death.

Look at the lines near the end that final stanza: "For with His arm He shall embrace and shield me." The crucifix shows us Jesus' arms extended upon the cross. Those were the arms that bore God's wrath over sin and took the punishment on our behalf. Those were the arms that were slashed and bruised and yanked out of joint. Those are the arms that embrace and shield us from all harm.

Today's Laugh

Scant Supplies at the Store

Note to self: Do not buy raw garlic at Walmart.

A store may carry a particular item. But if there's almost no shelf space dedicated to that item, and if that item is very hard to find, tucked as it is in a weirdo spot, and if there is only a handful of it available, that's probably a good indication that the item is not exactly fresh.

I was noticing the same thing at Woodman's and Piggly-Wiggly with regard to frozen veggies. As more and more people buy Steam-in-the-Bag vegetables, there's less call for plain old boring frozen vegetables. As fewer people want to buy the boring frozen veggies, less of that is produced, and it becomes an "odder" item, and the price goes up. That'll be dandy for those who like insta-foods and want to spend little time in the kitchen.

But for those of us who prefer buying whole foods, unprocessed foods, it's getting harder. It would be really sad --and expensive-- to see simple foods and basic ingredients (that used to be considered staples in everyone's kitchen) become specialty niche items.

Back When I Was Young

Stories no longer talk about children going to out play in the rain, wearing their slickers and rubbers and rain hoods.

Every time I talk about hoeing, or needing to find another hoe, Andrew giggles.

"Gay" means something altogether different from what it used to mean.

Does anybody still play "Where is thumbkin?" with little kids? I suspect with people flipping the bird to others at the slightest provocation, some folks do not want to teach preschoolers the finger-play that has a verse "Where is middle-finger? Where is middle-finger? Here I am! Here I am! How are you today, sir? Very well, I thank you. Run and hide; run and hide."

I learned a counting song when I was little and decades later taught it to some of my kids. "One little, two little, three little Indians..." I betcha that's considered politically incorrect too.

Today's Laugh

Jogging

As soon as I finally decided I was recommitted enough to exercise that I could safely come out of the closet and reveal I was jogging near-daily, the next day I started coughing. I plugged away two more days with the jogging, but then flopped.

Three weeks later I am still coughing, but not as much, and not as violently, and it's quasi-controllable, and I'm no longer fatigued from whatever-it-was that started the coughing. (Still not sure if it was weather, allergies, virus, poor air quality, or what.) Gathered my oomph and kicked myself out the door today, wearing my jogging shoes. Even after three weeks of not exercising, today I easily jogged a mile and a half, and it didn't feel like a fat man was sitting on my chest squashing all the air out of me! Hooray!

All or Nothing?

Clean needles for drug addicts? Or does that condone the ill behavior?

Condoms for sexually active teens? Or does that condone their sin?

We childproof our homes so that the climbing toddler doesn't play with knives or drink ammonia or break the computer.

Sometimes contingency plans are good. Sometimes we don't expect compliance with the rules. Other times we demand that the standards remain and that people suffer the consequences of non-compliance.

What if the Church develops music and videos and other resources for congregations who engage in "contemporary worship"? Is that enabling congregations who are "going to do it anyway"? Or is it doing the best you can to help under less-than-ideal circumstances?

Today's Laugh

A family of three tomatoes were walking downtown one day when the little baby tomato started lagging behind. The big father tomato walks back to the baby tomato, stomps on her, squashing her into a red paste, and says, "Ketchup!"

Crucifix in the Chancel

My friend Dustin was ordained three years ago. It was at his ordination that, for the first time, I was very aware of the lack of a crucifix in the chancel. Over the years I had become accustomed to having a crucifix around during prayer and had begun, I suppose, to take it for granted. That day it was surprisingly unsettling to be worshiping in a place without a crucifix.

When your eyes are on the crucifix, the image helps to anchor your thoughts on the central message of Scripture.

One example is the Venite. "Oh, come, let us sing unto the Lord. Let us make a joyful noise to the Rock of our salvation." Without the crucifix, I always thought of the "rock" as, well, y'know, a symbol of something sturdy. But with the crucifix there to teach me and to guide me, I remember the passage from Corinthians where we are told that the rock with the Israelites in the wilderness was Christ Himself, and that He was struck in the side so that water poured out. Or you might think about "the strength of the hills is His also" being connected to the hill where Jesus was crucified.

Another example is Isaiah 60 which we read for Epiphany. We usually think of "Arise, shine, for your light is come, and the glory of the Lord is risen upon you" as being about the star and the wise men who came to see Baby Jesus. But we can also see it in connection to the cross, and how Jesus was lifted up on the cross and how His light shone to all nations through His sacrificial death.

There are gazillions of examples of what a person might learn from the Bible simply by keeping his/her eyes fixed upon the crucifix while listening to the scripture readings and while praying.

The synodical convention is being broadcast this week via the Internet. During hymn singing, pictures are put on the screen with the words to the hymns. I don't know if this is being shown to the delegates during devotions too, or if it's just what we at home see on our computer monitors. Regardless, I was once again especially aware of what it's like to behold images other than the crucifix. The pictures illustrating the hymns may have trees or clouds or mountains or water. And that says something very different than seeing a crucifix when you sing "Our God, our Help, in ages past; our Hope for years to come" or "My faith looks up to Thee" or "A mighty fortress is our God" or the Kyrie.

Back When I Was Young

People carry phones around in their pockets -- phones that are smaller than a deck of playing cards. Before cell phones were "car phones," essentially cell phones except they were the size of a shoebox. Before that were phones that were actually attached to the wall by a cord. [Gasp!] When you called someone, you knew they were at home. It still confuses me when I call the kids only to find out that they're in a different state, or at the store, or on their way to work.

When Gary was in the seminary (about 25 years ago) the government decided that Bell Telephone was a monopoly and had to be split up. Before that day, the phone company owned the phones. People didn't own phones. You had one in your house that you were just renting from the phone company. It stayed in your house or apartment when you moved, just like your kitchen sink does. Because you had to pay an extra dollar or two a month for touchtone, we had opted to rent the rotary dial. When Bell was broken apart, the company offered to sell you whatever phone was already in your house. We bought ours simply because it was a fairly cheap deal, and I didn't want to go to some store and start hunting up a phone. (After all, the idea of buying a phone??? Who ever heard of such a cockamamie idea??) Besides, I figured the Bell phones were a solid & reliable product: when they owned the phones, they sure didn't want to be running out to people's homes making repairs.

Fast-forward 15 years. We were still using the Bell phones. (In fact, we were still using those phones until we moved into this house two years ago and chose a phone service that depends on digital signals -- thus, touchtone was required.) Philip had a friend over, and he was due home at 4:15. The guys were in the midst of a game, and Paul needed to call his mom and ask permission to stay later. "Where's the phone?" he asks. We point it out to him. He picks up the handset. His hand moves toward the wall-phone, and he pauses. And stares. He thinks a while. Finally he asks how to dial a phone. The poor fellow had never seen a rotary-dial phone in his life.

I felt like a dinosaur.

Today's Laugh

A student comes to a young professor's office hours. She glances down the hall, closes his door, kneels pleadingly.

"I would do anything to pass this exam." She leans closer to him, flips back her hair, gazes meaningfully into his eyes. "I mean ..." she whispers, "... I would do ... anything."

He returns her gaze. "Anything?"

"Anything!"

His voice softens. "Anything??"

"Absolutely anything."

His voice turns to a whisper. "Would you ... study?"

Back When I Was Young

"Back in the day," we used to watch live television. You turned on the tv, tuned in a channel, and watched whatever was coming over the airways. The show started at a particular time, and ended at a particular time, and it had commercials. If you got there five minutes late, you missed the first five minutes of the show. If you had to go to the bathroom or grab a drink from the kitchen, you missed whatever was on tv while you were out of the room.

We seldom watch tv anymore. We watch you-tube videos. We watch DVDs, both for movies and sit-coms. We watch Netflix shows.

This is very hard for Maggie to understand. Live television has been explained to her, but she has so little experience with it that it's hard for her to truly comprehend. If we're watching live tv (such as the Superbowl) she may tell us to "put it on pause" while she leaves the room to fetch her colored pencils.

It happened again yesterday. I was listening to the live-streaming of the synodical convention. Katie called to ask mommy-advice about split chins on children. Maggie was having a booger of a time finding the "pause" button on the live-streaming. I told her she could just turn down the volume, but she didn't want to do that. She knew I'd miss something, see?, if she didn't stop the "show" while I was gone. She was trying to be helpful.

It always shocks me when I realize how little she understands about the difference between broadcasts and recordings. But then, why should she??

Today's Laugh

Have you ever imagined a world with no hypothetical situations?

Today's Laugh

Trust Not in Princes

Sometimes it's an election for governor, senator, or President. Sometimes it's synodical politics. Whether in the church or in the world, we console ourselves after the loss of an election by singing Psalm 146: "Trust not in princes: they are but mortal. Earthborn they are and soon decay" (TLH 26).

What happens when your guy wins?

In amidst the rejoicing and the thanksgiving, we still ought to be singing, "Trust not in princes.... Trust ye in Christ, our God and Lord. Alleluia!"

I'm sure plenty of my girlfriends are reading this and shaking their heads and thinking, "There goes Susan again. Why does she have to keep saying this?"

I like Matt Harrison. I hope he will win the election for synodical president. But I don't expect him to save the synod. I don't expect him to "clean house." He is not the panacea for the LCMS. (Or, if you're from a different viewpoint, neither is he a threat to the LCMS.)

There is a reason some of us love Matt Harrison. When he talks, he talks about Jesus. He is a man who has been desperately in need of grace and who finds his joy and his life in the mercy of his Savior. It shows! This is a man who trusts in the Gospel with all his heart.

Thing is, by nature we trust in the law. Some are hoping for the balance of "power" to shift in the Missouri Synod. Some folks want things fixed. And the sooner the better.

But Matt Harrison is a man who knows his only authority --his only "power"-- as a pastor or as a synodical executive, is in the Word of God.

Sometimes we sinners don't like God's way of doing things. He hung out with tax collectors like Matthew. And demon-possessed prostitutes like Mary Magdalene. And lepers like Simon. And even pharisees like Nicodemus. And He loved that rich young man (John Mark) who came to Him pompous about his good works.

Sometimes we sinners don't like God's way of doing things. We want the law preached ... to THEM. To those guys who botched things up. To those guys who hurt us. To those folks out there. But God wants to preach the law to us. To me. He wants me to see my sin. He wants you to grieve over your sin. He wants to kill us so that He might restore us to life.

If Matt Harrison speaks with God's authority, he will speak the law to kill, not to "instruct" or "improve," and not just to "the other guy." And he will continue to bubble over with the good news of the forgiveness of sins. That's why we love him so much. But he may bring forgiveness and mercy to those that we think are unworthy of it, to those we think should not receive it.

This synod has not been "walking together" for decades. The divisions began before I was born. The first split happened when I was a kid. But the tensions continued to grow. The paths continued to diverge. The election of a president, or the saving of a college or seminary or a radio show, or the ouster of certain pastors --regardless of which Side you're on-- cannot be a quick fix. A year of marriage counseling cannot solve all the problems that have developed over twenty or thirty or forty years of marital difficulty. Things take time. Hearts seldom change overnight.

Do we want reconciliation? Or do we want control of synod's institutions, and punishment for those who disagree with us? The law (and the by-laws, and punishment, and threats) can "change things" much faster than can the gospel; anybody who's parented a two-year-old knows that. But that's Left-Hand Kingdom stuff. In the Church, the only kind of change that matters is the change that comes from the Gospel. We love Matt Harrison because he loves the gospel. If he is elected president, let us pray that we have patience as he slowly and mercifully does the work he has been given to do. Let us pray that our zeal for the law is trumped by our zeal for the gospel. Regardless of who wins the election, let us pray that we trust not in politics for our synod's help, but
penitent sinners for mercy crying,
pardon and peace from Him obtain.
Ever the wants of the poor supplying,
their faithful God He doth remain.

Today's Laugh

Introductory Chemistry was taught at Duke University for many years by Professor Bonk. One year, two guys took the class and did pretty well on all the quizzes and mid-terms -- so much so that going into the final, they each had a solid A. These two friends were so confident going into the final that the weekend before finals week, despite the Chemistry final being on Monday, they decided to go to the University of Virginia to party with some friends.

They did this and had a great time. However, with their hangovers and tiredness, they overslept all day Sunday and didn't make it back to Duke until early Monday morning. Rather than taking the final then, they found Professor Bonk after the final and explained to him how they missed the final. They told him they went up to the University of Virgina for the weekend and had planned to come back in time to study, but they had a flat tire on the way back and didn't have a spare. They couldn't fix it for a long time and were late getting back to campus.

Bonk thought this over and agreed that they could take the final the following day. The two guys, elated and relieved, studied that night and went in the next day at the time that Bonk had told them. He placed them in separate rooms and handed each of them a test booklet. He told them to begin.

They looked at the first problem which was something simple about molarity and solutions; it was worth 5 points. "Cool," they thought, "this is going to be an easy final". They then turned the page. They were unprepared, however, for what they saw on it. The question contained only two words: (95 points) Which tire?

Today's Laugh

The boss was trying to be inspirational and motivational. He posted a sign which read, "Today is the tomorrow you worried about yesterday." I couldn't resist adding a note: "And now you know why too."

Today's Laugh

An elderly couple were killed in an accident and found themselves being given a tour of heaven by Saint Peter. "Here is your ocean-side condo. Over there are the tennis courts, swimming pool, and two golf courses. If you need any refreshments, just stop by any of the many bars located throughout the area."

"Heck, Gloria," the old man hissed when Saint Peter walked off, "we could have been here ten years ago if you hadn't heard about all that stupid oat bran, wheat germ, and low-fat diets!"

Forgiveness

Just wondering.

If it's "really hard to forgive someone" who has harmed you, betrayed you, sinned against you, ...
would that mean your forgiveness wasn't really forgiveness?

So Tired

Who ever thought caulking could be so exhausting? After six tubes of driveway caulk in two days, my hands are sore. I have dropped things because my grip is just too tired to hang on.

Granted, I was out late at a super-exciting ball game last night. But I'm more tired than I can account for. I think these repairs on the driveway require more physical energy than I have to give! I washed the driveway this morning and was all ready to head to the hardware store for asphalt and for another gallon of liquid sealant, when I thought to check the weather. 40% chance of thunderstorms this afternoon and again this evening. And 50% chance of rain overnight on Sunday. Do I risk it?

Gary said that if I fail to water the garden this afternoon, anticipating rain, the rain will not come. Murphy's law, y'know. Then I could do more driveway patching and not have the repairs rained upon. Sounds like a good plan in theory, but I don't trust it.

So I'm looking at the to-do list since I'm not working on the driveway. Everything on the list takes more strength than I've got right now. House cleaning? Nah, too tired. Moving furniture? Nope. Shampooing a couch? Nope. More weeding in the garden. Nope. How about running the lawn mower before the rain comes? Yuck -- but it's still on my list to consider. Cooking for company tomorrow? Not too tiring, but it would require heat -- inside the house. Hmmmm.

Goofing off on the computer? Now, I do have energy for that.

(What's really disappointing is that I'll have to wash the driveway again once I think the weather forecast looks like we'll have a good 24 hours with no chance of rain. Just the thought of hauling the hose from the garden, across the deck, through the garage, and out to the front again makes me want to collapse.)

Today's Laugh

One of my friends works in the customer-service call center of a national pager company. He deals with the usual complaints regarding poor pager operation, as well as the occasional crank caller demanding to be paged less often, more often, or by more interesting people.

The best call came from a man who repeatedly complained that he keeps being paged by "Lucille." He was instructed that he would have to call her and tell her to stop paging him.

"She don't never leave no number, so I can't call her back," he said.

After three such calls, someone thought to ask how he knew it was Lucille if she didn't leave a number.

"She leaves her name," was the reply.

After establishing that the customer had a numeric only pager, the light bulb came on.

"How does she spell her name?" the service rep asked.

"L-O-W C-E-L-L"

Another problem solved.

The Motivation for Daily Activities

Bread rising.
Library not open yet, so time to kill before running errands.
Hmmm... how about a little more weeding in the vegetable garden?
Errands include picking up a book for homeschooling and buying more caulk for the driveway.

Suddenly I think to myself about some of my Christian friends who aspire to be "a real Proverbs 31 woman." An outsider might think my list of tasks today were nobly motivated as I strive to live the Proverbs-31 lifestyle.

Ha! Those folks don't know a frugal-minded cheapskate when they see one. A woman who makes bread and gardens does so to keep from spending so much money at the grocery store. A woman who repairs her own driveway does so because she can't afford to pay the businessman. Not only can this woman not afford tuition for her kids' school, but she doesn't even want to pay for schoolbook and thus borrows as much as possible from the library.

Things are not always what they appear to be.
I wonder what other miserly activities I will engage in today? :-)

Lift Up Your Eyes

Usually when we read in the Bible about someone "lifting up his eyes," we just think it's about somebody looking at something. "Yoohoo! Looky over there. See that?"

Jesus tells Nicodemus that the Son of Man must be lifted up -- at His crucifixion (John 3).

Isaiah sees the Lord lifted up and the angels crying, "Holy, holy, holy" (Isaiah 6).

In the movie Passion, we notice time and again how the people at the foot of the cross look up to see the Man hanging there. Really, there is no way to "fix our eyes upon Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith," without looking up.

When we sit in the pews at church, we must look up to see the crucifix. When we kneel in the confessional, our eyes look up to see the cross hanging over our pastor's heart.


Psalm 121 --
I will lift up my eyes to the hills.
From whence comes my help?
My help comes from the Lord
who made heaven and earth.

Jesus was crucified on a hill ...

whence cometh my help.

Today's Laugh

A new government 10-year survey costing $3,000,000,000 revealed that 3/4 of the people in America make up 75% of the population.

A Few Pics

My mom and Noelle (my sister's baby).



Gary's folks with Paul, Philip, Maggie, and Andrew.



Brenda and me at the CCA booth during one of the coffee breaks at symposium.



Maggie and Andrew today -- pictures taken simply because I was trying to figure out what was wrong with the camera and if I could make it capture any image. Somewhere. Please. I hope. Don't be broken, dear camera. Anyway, here are the kids as of today.

Not a Pastry Bag (but almost)

Running the caulk gun along those little wiggly cracks near the edge of the driveway made me realize that cake-decorating may be a useful training-tool for household maintenance.


I learned today that I much prefer the "pourable driveway crack filler" to the asphalt caulk. The pourable filler is much easier to use and doesn't leave lumpy lines. Of course, the pourable stuff is much thinner and needs to be applied twice (or thrice -- or more) unless the crack is teeny. But it's easier, cheaper, and gives better results.


I wonder when I will learn that a whole day outside, in the garden, or patching driveway cracks, will result in sunburned shoulders and back? I know it, but I still haven't learned it. Aloe to the rescue!

Violinists

Some of the good violinists at church (of which there are many) were amused interested that Gary has a violin and can even play a bit. Gary took his violin along to Goltermanns' on Monday. He and Sarah played hymns together for a while. Loved it!

Today's Laugh

These four guys were walking down the street, a Saudi, a Russian, a North Korean, and a New Yorker.

A reporter comes running up and says, "Excuse me, what is your opinion about the meat shortage?"

The Saudi says, "What's a shortage?"

The Russian says, "What's meat?"

The North Korean says, "What's an opinion?"

The New Yorker, says, "Excuse me?? What's excuse me?"

Galatians 6:1

Brethren, if a man is overtaken in any trespass,
you who are spiritual
restore such a one
in a spirit of gentleness,
considering yourself
lest you also be tempted.

When I was growing up, our Sunday school teachers always explained this verse like this: When your friends start to smoke or do drugs or sleep around, you should try to set them back on the path of good works and morality. But be careful, because it would really be easy for them to suck you into their immoral lifestyle.

But maybe this verse is about much more than stopping people from doing some naughty things.

IF all sin flows from unbelief (and it does),
and IF faith cannot help but bear good fruit (and it does),
and IF people are prone to pharisaism (and because of our sinful nature, all are),

then maybe this verse is calling us to flee to Jesus' mercy when we see our brother in sin. We need to speak in such a way that his faith be turned to Christ and not to anything in himself. (This, of course, does not mean that we avoid use of the Law. The Law is necessary that we might be stripped of all reliance on ourselves and trust only in Jesus' goodness.) Our temptation when "restoring a brother overtaken in a trespass" is that he should be as good as we are -- that he should try to be as holy as we are.

But when we "consider ourselves" we find nothing in us but sin and death from which we can in no wise set ourselves free. And yet Christ is merciful to us and has made us a new creation. And so when we help our struggling brother, we help him, not to spiff up his life, but to find his sole sufficiency in the Savior who loves both him and us. That keeps us from being tempted. And it is the only salvation which can restore the brother.

The Need for More Pastors

From Sunday's [three-year] Gospel reading: Jesus tells us that the harvest is plentiful and the laborers are few, and to "pray the Lord of the harvest to send faithful laborers into the harvest" (Luke 10).

But then next He tells the 70 that He sends them out as "lambs among wolves."

And I kept thinking, "No wonder we have to keep praying for more and more pastors. Because the ones that are sent keep getting eaten up!"

Today's Laugh

Cats can work out mathematically the exact place to sit that will cause most inconvenience.

Holiday Weekend

A friend is in Ghana, teaching for a few weeks at the seminary there. Two of his parishioners died. So Gary drove to the south side of the metro area to preach at a funeral after work on Friday. He drove back the next morning for the committal, and stayed for the afternoon for the next funeral. Then Sunday, he preached and taught Bible class here because Pastor is on vacation. That's a lot to cram into a weekend even when you're not working a day-job.

Paul came home for the long weekend! So glad to see him! On the one hand, I wish he were getting scheduled for more hours at his part-time job so that he would've been unable to come due to a sufficiently-busy work schedule. But as long as he's short of hours, it's great that he was willing to make the drive to come home for a few days.

Maggie and I finished the sixth Betsy-Tacy book. I should've been thinking ahead. We didn't put #7 on reserve until we finished #6. Now we hold off on reading until the libraries shuffle the next volume to us.

Katie let me know that they will be moving to a new apartment in the next week or two. Not only does it appear to be quieter and better maintained, but it also has cheaper rent. That'll help. Also, Nathan's second job seems to be working out well.

Enjoyed a wonderfully relaxing afternoon on the Fourth with some friends. And enjoyed a lovely party on Monday at the home of other friends. Thankful for the good food and even better company!

Missed the fireworks altogether. The ones out in Dousman (where we watched last summer) were set off on Saturday night instead of on the Fourth. After Gary's funerals, we weren't about to drive out there at bedtime when he had to preach the next morning. By Sunday evening, we were 1) confused by the thought that the fireworks had been last night, and 2) tired and ready for bed. It initially surprised me when we heard the local fireworks booming away about 9:15. But at that point, we couldn't manage the oomph to get into the car and drive into the village.

Been watering for a friend who's out of town. She has 18 potted plants. They are beautiful. And I haven't killed anything! :-) I am overwhelmed by her commitment to making her home and yard lovely. I don't think I could spend a summer taking care of that many plants that need watering every single day. My practicality compels me to spend my gardening time on food-stuffs instead of pretties. But I can also see the value of how the pretties refresh and restore the soul.

Rosie is enjoying playing at being a huntress. I get a lot of laughs watching her stalking squirrels. She's also highly interested in the bluebird box, but our sweet, dumb cat is no match for a mama bluebird. She's actually caught a few gophers, but she doesn't eat them. Cats should eat their prey rather than leaving it to sit dead on the driveway. Blech!

The driveway needs to be sealed. I learned what needs to be done. Yesterday I began sealing some of the tiny cracks. (This driveway is SO different and smooth and uncracked, compared to the driveway we had at the parsonage.) Today we'll need to do some edging. The supplies for the sealing job cost a small fraction of the estimates we've been given by companies looking for business. And I bet I'll do a more meticulous job. But as I look at a whole week devoted to spiffing up the driveway, I wonder if by next Sunday I'll regret trying to save the $200 by doing it myself. Next on the docket will be sealing the deck; that's easier.

Today's Laugh

On the train to a math and engineering convention, a group of math majors and a group of engineering majors sat in the same car. Each of the math majors had his/her train ticket, but it became clear that the group of engineers had only ONE ticket amongst them. The math majors started laughing and snickering.

When one of the engineers said, "Here comes the conductor," all the engineers went into the bathroom. The math majors were puzzled. The conductor came aboard and said "Tickets please" and collected tickets from all the math majors. He then went to the bathroom, knocked on the door and said "Ticket please," and the engineers stuck the ticket under the door. The conductor took it and left, and the engineers came out of the bathroom a few minutes later. The math majors felt really stupid.

So on the way back from the convention, the group of math majors had one ticket for the group. They started snickering at the engineers, for this time the whole group had NO tickets amongst them.

When the engineer-lookout said, "Conductor coming!," all the engineers went to one bathroom. All the math majors went to another bathroom. Just before the conductor came on board, one of the engineers left the bathroom, knocked on the other bathroom, and said "Ticket please."

Stevia

Overall, we eat too much sweetness, and sugar-substitutes are not the answer. The answer is to not succumb constantly to our desire for the sweet.

I ran across a jar of stevia at Trader Joe's a while back. I've been interested in trying stevia for quite a while, but the price was prohibitive. Now that it's becoming trendy, more people are growing it and selling it, and the price is no longer something that will give you a heart attack. (Now it's come down to just "very expensive".)

I've discovered a good use for stevia. I have too much craving for sweetness to eliminate all my sugar-fixes. I don't have enough money to make a full switch to sugar-substitutes that aren't harmful: honey, maple syrup, stevia. But when you're sick and are imbibing in many, many cups of hot tea, and when the illness means you really shouldn't be consuming sugar, the stevia allows you to keep "sucking down Darjeeling" without gobbling up many tablespoonfuls of dissolved sugar daily. And the stevia doesn't have the chemical taste that saccharin and aspartame do.

I should learn to drink tea and coffee without sugar.

Really, I should. (And you know my brain right now is drooling over Southern Sweet Tea.... Well, at least my mouth isn't drooling.)

Today's Laugh

The trouble with the rat race is that even if you win, you're still a rat

Today's Laugh

A Dutchman was explaining the red, white, and blue Netherlands flag to an American.
"Our flag is symbolic of our taxes. We get red when we talk about them, white when we get our tax bills, and blue after we pay them."

The American nodded. "It's the same in the USA. Only we see stars too!"

Fitting In

From Betsy in Spite of Herself by Maud Hart Lovelace. It's near the end of the book when Betsy is looking for that guy, Joe. She checks the library (the most likely place to find him) and he's not there. The librarian is telling Betsy about Joe (a teen-age orphan who needs to support himself) and why he doesn't hang out with the other kids so much.

He has to work for a living. And being barred from the usual things high school students do, the things requiring money and time, he takes refuge in books. He not only reads them, but he dreams about them. He sees himself as the heroes he admires. He is confident that he could behave as Ivanhoe did, or Marco Polo, or D'Artagnan.

He isn't a boy who pities himself. Not at all. He has to work, but he makes that an adventure. He would really like to play football or baseball after school, but he can't. He has to go to [his job]. So he just makes plans about playing them in college. It helps that, when he has a spare hour and can play, he is better than average.

His routine is quite satisfactory to him but only because he puts out of his mind the things he cannot have. And they are the boy and girl pleasures. If he let you draw him into your Crowd, he would be constantly embarrassed. He would be forced to admit that he isn't, perhaps, quite so lucky as he thinks he is. Don't you see, Betsy? Living as he does now, he doesn't mind shabby clothes. But he is a proud boy. He wouldn't like coming to call on you in shabby clothes. When you urge him to come he gets desperate. He just has to be rude. Don't you see?

Today's Laugh

The best part of procrastination, is that you are never bored, because you have all kinds of things that you should be doing.

Today's Laugh

This Kentucky horse breeder had a filly that won every race in which she was entered. But as she got older she became very temperamental. He soon found that when he raced her in the evening, she would win handily, but when she raced during the day she would come in dead last. He consulted the top veterinarians and horse psychologists to no avail.

He finally had to give up because it had become a real night mare.

Bread Prices

Our church school has a flea market coming up. I'm thinking about getting a booth and selling some junk and some used books. But I've also thought about selling some bread. Wondering how much to charge, I figured I should take an honest look at what the ingredients cost for my bread. Last time I checked that, it was running me about 25-cents per loaf. Uh. That was a while ago.

Since then, flour and sugar prices have quadrupled. And I've started using healthier ingredients: olive oil instead of Crisco, sea salt instead of refined Morton's, flax and wheat germ and oat bran and millet as additives.

The ingredients alone (no fuel for the stove, no factoring in the cost of my time) is $1.15 per loaf for the plain boring bread. Yikes! I guess this means it would be unreasonable to charge $1 or $2 per loaf at a bake sale, eh?

This is like the sticker shock when I looked at dresses a couple of years ago. I thought a decent dress would cost $20. But no, Lands End and Penney's catalogs are selling dresses for $100.

LaLa-Land is the result of trying desperately never to buy anything. I don't KNOW what anything costs any more. And when I find out, it about blows me away.

Today's Laugh

My mother always told me to finish what I started, but she had no idea of some of the people I'd be dealing with.

Dry-Bean Primer

Once upon a long time ago, when we were signed up for WIC, each month we were to receive a couple of pounds of dry beans. I had no clue what to do with them, other than turn them into bean-bags for the kids. Shame on me. So here's a primer on what to do with dry beans, in case anyone else is intimidated by the prospect of turning a little bag of hard things into an edible dinner.


First thing to know is that you probably want to start the day before, especially if you aren't going to be home to cook during the day that you'll be eating the beans. If the beans are for Sunday lunch, you can start Friday morning, Friday night, or at the latest Saturday morning. If the beans are for Thursday supper and you're at work during the day, sort your beans on Tuesday night, and start soaking them Wednesday morning.

First thing is to sort any mudballs or rocks out of your pound of beans. When I first started using dry beans, I was looking at each individual bean. What a pain! If you're not experienced at sorting beans, try this: pour about 1/3 or 1/2 cup of dry beans onto a dinner plate, and scan them to see if there's anything icky. Usually it's hard balls of dirt. In 25 years of using dried beans, I've only found an actual pebble once or twice. Sometimes you'll find part of the seed pod or another part of the plant. Sometimes you'll see a bean that was significantly bug-gnawed. Sometimes you'll find a different kind of bean (which wouldn't be a problem unless the oddball is a bean that takes much longer to cook than the rest of the crowd). Once you've picked out anything icky from the beans on the plate, dump them into a colander or sieve, and scan another 1/2 cup of beans. When you've checked the whole bag, rinse the beans under running cold water, rubbing them a bit between your hands to wash them.

Put them in a pot or bowl. You want a 6-quart pot (or larger) for a pound of beans. Cover them with lots of cold water. I mean, you want them covered very deeply because they're going to swell to 2-3 times their size. Let the beans sit all day. Or overnight. Eight hours. Do not use the quick-soak method on the back of the bean bag. You're more likely to get mushy beans that way.

If you want to use the crockpot to cook your beans, drain them in the evening, cover them with plenty of water, and leave them in the crockpot on low overnight. Don't turn the crockpot on until right before bed, and check first thing in the morning. Sometimes I've crockpotted beans overnight and then woke up to find them too soft. If you're okay with cooking them on the stovetop, drain the soaked beans, put them in a heavy pot, cover with plenty of fresh water, and bring to a good boil. Then turn the heat down to a simmer and let them bubble gently for an hour. The bag may say to cook them for 2-3 hours. It seems to me that I've been having my beans become soft in 40-90 minutes. So start checking sooner than the instructions on the bag indicate.

Do not put a lid on the pot. Well, if you LIKE cleaning messes off your stove-top and scouring the outside of your pots, go ahead. Beans, like potatoes, will boil over if there's a lid. If you must have a lid, then make sure it's sitting a bit cock-eyed on the pot, so that you've got an inch or two uncovered for steam to escape.

Oh, by the way, don't use your soaking water to cook your beans. And once you've simmered your beans, you're going to want to dispose of that water too. Recipes will often say to cook the beans in the soaking water, and then to reserve the cooking water for your recipe. Do that only if you eat beans ALL the time. My father-in-law has a rhyme that he recites every single time beans are served: "Beans, bean, the magical fruit. The more you eat, the more you toot." The people you live with and work with will appreciate it if you use fresh water at each step of your bean-cooking. Granted, you lose nutrients if you keep changing the water. But you also lose odiferous farts. I think it's a valid trade-off.

Sometimes your beans will foam. If they do, you may want to get a wide-mouth jar or tin can out of your recycling bin and skim the beans. Use a slotted spoon to lift that 1-2" tall cloud of foamy stuff off the water and dump it into your disposal container. (For those of you who don't have septics, it can probably go down the drain. I've never experimented to see if bean foam has a deleterious effect on my septic, though.) Usually my beans don't foam. But now and then they do, and you probably want to scoop that gunk off.

You know the beans are done when you lift one bean out of the water with a spoon, blow on it, and the skin begins to crack. If the skin really really cracks open, they're probably overcooked. Oh well. That happens. They're not ruined. When the bean is cool enough to put in your mouth, bite it. If it's still hard, keep cooking. If it's actually soft, turn them off, but cook them a shorter time next time. Hopefully you will catch the beans when they've just begun to not be hard any more, but still have plenty of SHAPE to them. In other words, you want them done to the point that they are firm but have NO hardness in them. If you cook them to mush, turn them into soup, or flavor them like as if they were refried beans without the refrying.

Do NOT add salt, any salty meat (such as salt pork or a ham bone) to beans during this first stage of cooking. Nothing acid either, no vinegar, no tomato. Acid and salt slow down the cooking time immensely. It gets very frustrating to cook your beans for 12 hours (or 30 hours) and still have them be hard. Heads up: old beans take longer to cook. If they've been in your cupboard for five years, expect them to be simmering for quite a while!

When the beans are done, drain the water. (Hooray for less farting!) If you're ready to put them into a recipe, go ahead. If you need to wait before you put together your recipe, you can easily store your cooked beans in the refrigerator. Rinse them a few times with water to cool them down. Then put them in a big bowl or a water pitcher and cover with cool water. They will store nicely in the fridge for a couple of days. If you want to store them longer (maybe a week), then you should drain them and give them fresh water every other day to prevent spoilage.

Don't be afraid to add salt. Beans need salt. Just make sure to add it after you've cooked them the first time.

There you go. Dry beans cooked up so that they're handy for soups, baked beans, salads, hummus, burritos, etc. And at a fraction of the cost of canned beans.

Today's Laugh

He was a mediocre conductor of a mediocre orchestra. He had been having problems with the basses; they were the least professional of his musicians. It was the last performance of the season, Beethoven's 9th Symphony, which required extra effort from the basses at the end. Earlier that evening, he had found the basses celebrating one of their birthdays by passing a bottle around. As he was about to cue the basses near the end of the Beethoven piece, the conductor knocked over his music stand. The sheet music scattered. As he stood in front of his orchestra, his worst fear was realized:

it was the bottom of the 9th, no score, and the basses were loaded.

Not-a-Side-Dish Baked Beans

These beans started as a side dish one evening. But by the time we doctored them up, neither Gary nor I wanted the main dish. We just wanted to hog the beans. And lick the spoon. And the plates. And the pan. And then make more and start all over.

So at the family reunion we started over, with no recipe but only a vague memory. For 30 people instead of 4. Again with the lack of self-control with regard to the beans.

So here's what I need to remember for next time. We scratched down only an ingredient list, but no amounts. So this is my best guess, to be tweaked next time I make them. This is definitely one of those recipes where you have to "season to taste" and adjust, then taste, and adjust, then taste, and adjust. And pretty soon you'll get it just right. But ... you will pretend you're still trying to adjust the seasonings ... just so you can get by with dipping the spoon into the pot again and popping another bite into your mouth again. Mmmmmmm.



32-40 ounce can of Bush's Baked Beans
1 pint can of cheap pork-n-beans
1/2 pound of hamburger
1 medium onion, chopped fine
salt
plenty of black pepper
1/2 or 3/4 cup brown sugar
1/2 teaspoon Emeril's Essence
1/8 or 1/4 teaspoon Frank's Red Hot cayenne sauce
1/8 teaspoon (or less) liquid smoke
1/4 teaspoon balsamic vinegar
1/2 teaspoon lemon juice
1/4 teaspoon garlic powder

Cook up the hamburger and onion. Add to the canned beans. Add spices and flavors. Can be heated on the stove or in the crockpot. But it's even better (less runny) if it can be slowly baked in the oven.

The Best Lover

Sunday's gospel (end of Luke 9) included the incident where the man who was called to follow Jesus asked if he might first go back and bury his dad. Jesus replied (in what Pastor referred to as one of His "most callous" responses), "Let the dead bury their own dead." During Bible class there was a brief discussion of the fourth commandment ("Honor your father and your mother") and how that doesn't clash with the verse in Luke 9 or the spot a few chapters later where Jesus says we cannot be His disciple unless we hate our father, mother, brother, sister, and even our own life.

Pastor talked about how our focus is entirely on Christ. Our loved ones can easily become idols. That does not mean we are not to love our loved ones. (After all, they wouldn't be our loved ones if we didn't love them. Righto!)

But when we love Christ, when we look to Christ, when we listen to Christ, His love changes hearts. The mercy we receive spills out to those around us. Those who love Christ most will be the ones who love family best. The husband who loves his Jesus more than he loves his wife will be the husband who loves his wife better than he could otherwise have loved her.

Today's Laugh

Give a person a fish and you feed him for a day; teach that person to use the Internet and he won't bother you for weeks.

Naked Kitchen

When we went on vacation, we stayed in cabins with kitchens. The kitchens had dishes and pots and silverware and towels and dishsoap. But no foil. No cling-wrap. No wax paper. No Tupperware. And none of my specially set-aside garbage. [gasp]

Until that first night at the family reunion, I didn't realize how much I rely on junk that most people toss in the trash. Where do you put leftovers? In an old peanut butter jar, right? Oh. No old peanut butter jars in my vacation cupboards.

When you make a big batch of food that needs to be stored until the next meal, doesn't it go in an old ice-cream pail? What happens when there's no old ice-cream pail?

When you nuke something and don't want it to spatter all over the inside of the microwave, what do you cover it with? Some people use paper towels or wax paper. I use a dinner plate. We also use plates as "lids" on bowls of leftovers in the fridge. But when you have only 4 plates for 6 people, you've gotta watch to ensure you've got plates to eat off of.

So what's another option as a leftover lid? Obviously, a plastic bag that you picked up in the produce dept, the bag which transported your lettuce or your tomatoes home. Or an old bread bag. But in a naked kitchen that you're borrowing for the week, there is no stash of old bread bags, no stash of old sandwich bags, no stash of little glass jars to shake-shake-shake up your flour and liquid for a white sauce.

I found a reprieve when we discovered that the clean coffee mugs were covered with sandwich bags. That enabled us to get through the first day until we made it to the grocery store and brought home [ta da!] lettuce bags and apple bags! As we progressed through the week, I built up my stash of Good Garbage, and thus began to function better in my little vacation kitchen.

And then came the day to leave. I was compelled to [gasp] throw all that perfectly decent garbage into the trash! (Fear not. Although it was traumatic, I managed to live through the waste of all that helpful garbage.)

Reason for My Blog

Just a reminder (in light of something I heard recently)...
This blog exists for two main reasons.
1. So that Mom and my kids can keep up on some daily happenings in our household.
2. Because the margins in my Bible aren't big enough to write down all the notes I want to scribble there. Don't be offended if I write about theology; I'm not being didactic: it's just that this blog is my own little pensieve.

I do need to rethink the posting of daily happenings. With a huge increase in recent months of strangers visiting my blog (via the "next blog" button on blogger) I've been hesitant to post things that I previously would have put up.

Oh, wait. There's another reason for my blog.
3. Writing helps me keep my hold on sanity. It's an outlet.

Today's Laugh

I recently asked my friends' little girl what she wanted to be when she grows up. She said she wanted to be President of the United States. Both her parents, liberal Democrats, were standing there.

So I asked her, "If you were President, what would be the first thing you would do?"

She replied, "I'd give food and houses to all the homeless people." Her parents beamed.

"Wow ... what a worthy goal," I told her. "But you don't have to wait until you're President to do that. You can come over to my house and mow the lawn, pull weeds, and sweep my driveway, and I'll pay you $50.

"Then I'll take you over to the grocery store where the homeless guy hangs out, and you can give him the $50 to use toward food and a new house."

She thought that over for a few seconds, then she looked me straight in the eye and asked, "Why doesn't the homeless guy come over and do the work, and you can just pay him the $50?"

"Welcome to the Republican Party," I told her.

Her parents still aren't speaking to me.

Garden Report

The problem with weeding is the original Pringles jingle: "once you pop, you can't stop." You start popping those clover roots and deep dandelion roots out of the soft mud, and you just can't stop. I want to finish the job, and clear the jungle of weeds away so that you can see the soil in all the garden patches, and not just in the lovely tomato patch which I weeded yesterday.

Note to self: make sure shirt is tucked in when weeding. There are certain parts of my body that have not seen sun in 30 years, since the bikini days of long-ago summers. With my shirt untucked yesterday, and mid-day June sun hitting a couple inches of my very white lower back, I now have a glaring red streak just above my jeans' waistband.

I don't know what it is, but my fruit trees didn't do well this year. The cherry harvest was less than what I would have gotten in 15 minutes last year. One apple tree has no fruit; the other has only 3 apples. The grape vines are very sparsely fruited. But the grapes are babies. They have an excuse; they need time.

Still haven't harvested the spring beets. They're getting big.

Lettuce is almost done. My second planting still has a small head or two.

None of the carrots have germinated.

My early-June planting of cilantro seeds (bought fresh a few weeks ago!) is coming up. Finally I'm seeing some cilantro. And smmmmmelling cilantro. The cilantro plants that I bought and transplanted are going to seed already. I hope I can still use them. Or that the seeds will hurry up and form, and fall, and grow, and get me some more cilantro. Can't have too much of that!

Bye-bye to my organic tomatoes. I found little red aphids on one of them. Hello Sevin Dust.

Yesterday I staked the tomatoes and pruned them. These hybrid tomatoes sure put out gobs of leaves. That was a problem last year. This year I pruned earlier, hoping to give the tomatoes room to grow, and sun and air, and hoping to put a little more of the plants' energy into creating fruit instead of lots of lovely greenery. Doing all 10 plants at once helped me figure out which branches needed to go and which were the fruit-bearing shoots. Woo hoo! I've tried to figure that out before; it's been explained to me. But sitting there, following branches from the roots to the tip, and seeing what was on them, and making careful observations, well, it paid off. I figured it out!

How come so many slugs? I'm going to have to figure out what to do about them. I'm hoping there won't be so many when I'm caught up with the weeding -- not so many moisty dark hiding places. On the other hand, maybe they'll be hungry for the plants I'm trying to grow instead of being satisfied with the invading weeds. Eek.

Been meaning daily to plant more beans and more carrots. But it's SO wet out there that I'm afraid to try to dig. Loosening the soil at this point may have the same lumpy results as trying to dig in mid-March. I could just shove bean seeds into the soil, but that wouldn't work with carrots.

Strawberries still have some fruit. I haven't even tried to harvest them the last week, what with other duties and some illness. Need to get out there tomorrow. I hope.

While weeding near the asparagus, I saw pretty little red growths on the raspberry canes. Oh boy! I better prune next year's canes pretty quickly, so that I'll be able to find the fruit on this year's canes. I pruned back a lot of next year's growth already, but I need to hack back more of it. Jam soon, raspberries to snack on sooner. And my favorite raspberry pie!

Not Fit for the Kingdom of God

We had the story today of Elijah, post-Mt-Carmel, when God told him to go anoint Elisha as his successor (1 Kings 19). Elisha wanted to go back and say goodbye to his family and have a farewell meal. Perfectly reasonable, seems to me.

We also had the story from Luke 9, where Jesus tells the guy to follow Him. But the guy says he wants to go back and say bye to his family, and Jesus says, "No one who looks back is fit for the kingdom of God." Now, I don't know about you, but I could never make sense of that. Is it okay to tell your family instead of simply disappearing? Or is it not? Why one response from Elijah and a different response from Jesus? What's the deal?

Pastor addressed that today. He suggested that Elisha (according to Jesus' words) was not fit for the kingdom of God. And why are we shocked are that? Is anyone fit for the kingdom of God? Only Christ didn't look back. Only Christ had no regrets. Only Christ was fully faithful. Only Christ is fit for the kingdom of God. We are worthy only because we are found in Him, with His "fitness."

Well, duh! Once he says that, it's so obvious! The fact that I didn't see it before just shows how much I see the Bible as a handbook on how to be good, how much I think Christianity is about my trying to follow the rules. But even so, He still declares me to be fit for the kingdom.

Today's Laugh

One summer evening, during a violent thunderstorm, a mother was tucking her son into bed. She was about to turn off the light when he asked with a tremor in his voice, "Mommy, will you sleep with me tonight?"

The mother smiled and gave him a reassuring hug. "I can't dear," she said. "I have to sleep in Daddy's room."

A long silence was broken at last by his shaky little voice: "The big sissy!"

"Okay"

Thought the allergens were getting to me. Or the humidity. But probably it's a cold. Not used to being sick.

I noticed yesterday that I was telling myself "okay" throughout the day. All day. Many times. When I had to go to the grocery store, it was "okay" after I put my shoes on, "okay" after I picked up my purse, "okay" after I climbed into the van and closed the door. This was stupid! But I kept doing it. I would tell myself "okay" after I found each item on the grocery list. "Okay" after I found a check-out lane.

After I took a nap, I gave myself an "okay" after I sat up. And an "okay" after I stood up. It was almost like I needed to coach myself through the day. "You did that. C'mon, Susan, you can tackle the next thing!" Okay!

I've barely told myself "okay" today. That must mean 14 hours of sleep did something to improve my health. :-)

But you know what? If I start hearing me give myself "okay" again today, I think it will be time to lie down and sleep some more.

Today's Laugh

Sick-day negotiations between union members and their employer were at an impasse. The union denied that their workers were flagrantly abusing the sick-leave provisions set out by their contract.

One morning at the bargaining table, the company's chief negotiator held aloft the morning edition of the newspaper. "This man," he announced, "called in sick yesterday!"

There, on the sports page, was a photo of the supposedly ill employee. The news article reported that he had just won a local golf tournament with an excellent score.

A union negotiator broke the silence in the room.

"Wow!" he said. "Just think what kind of score he could have had if he hadn't been sick!"

The Lamb Slain from the Foundation of the World

We're all very familiar with the Palm Sunday epistle. Jesus emptied Himself. He took on human flesh to save us. He suffered the death of the cross. Therefore the Father has exalted Him and given Him the name which is above every name.

Therefore?

Wait a second here.

Now, this is how I tend to look at time. Jesus left His heavenly throne. Then we have Christmas, which is, y'know, when we hear that this little boy was named Jesus. Then we have the little boy grow up, being called Jesus all the while. Then He is put on trial, beaten, mocked, crucified, dies, is buried. Then He's raised and ascends. He had the name "Jesus" from the time He was 8 days old.

So what is this "therefore"?

God gave Him the name Jesus because He emptied Himself and was incarnate and died to redeem us.

This doesn't make any sense whatsoever if we're constrained by time. Either Jesus got His name after He died, or else He got it when He was still in diapers (and Paul is in error here as He writes to the Philippians).




The Lord's gracious redemption of His sinful people is not constrained by time. It's too big. Too great. Too ... eternal. Too ... uh ... foundational to the structure of the entire world.

Mary and Joseph were told to name Him "Jesus" because of what He did [not "would do"] on the cross. That's just kind of mind-boggling.

Today's Laugh

Oh, this is so mean. I shouldn't have laughed. But I did!


You're sitting in your riverfront office one day, when you see a lawyer and an IRS agent drowning. You can only save one of them. Do you (a) read the paper, or (b) go to lunch?

Singular or Plural?

Have you ever noticed how many times in the Bible a plural pronoun is attached to a singular noun?

It says "our mind." Not "our minds."
It says "their heart." Not "their hearts."
It says "our life." Not "our lives."

Some "translations" are not really translations, and they [cough] "fix" these so-called grammar mistakes in the original language. That's naughty. There's a reason our Bibles ought to keep these mixed-number passages that would drive an English teacher batty.

We are a reflection of the Trinity who is a community of loving persons in the one Godhead. We in the Church are joined together to be one body of Christ. We are of one mind. We have one life.

It rejoices the heart to come across these little tidbits in the psalms and the epistles. Just the inconspicuous little lack-of-an-S on a noun ... and it quietly points to how we are all joined to Christ in one mystical union.

Today's Laugh

A man is waiting for wife to give birth. The doctor comes in and informs the dad that his son was born without torso, arms or legs. The son is just a head! But the dad loves his son and raises him as well as he can, with love and compassion. After 21 years, the son is old enough for his first drink. Dad takes him to the bar and tearfully tells the son he is proud of him.

Dad orders up the biggest, strongest drink for his boy. With all the bar patrons looking on curiously and the bartender shaking his head in disbelief, the boy takes his first sip of alcohol. Swoooop! A torso pops out!

The bar is dead silent; then bursts into a whoop of joy. The father, shocked, begs his son to drink again. The patrons chant, "Take another drink"! The bartender still shakes his head in dismay.

Swoooop! Two arms pops out. The bar goes wild. The father, crying and wailing, begs his son to drink again. The patrons chant, "Take another drink"! The bartender ignores the whole affair. By now the boy is getting tipsy, and with his new hands he reaches down, grabs his drink and guzzles the last of it. Swoooop! Two legs pop out.

The bar is in chaos. The father falls to his knees and tearfully thanks God. The boy stands up on his new legs and stumbles to the left ... then to the right ... right through the front door, into the street, where a truck runs over him and kills him instantly.

The bar falls silent. The father moans in grief. The bartender sighs and says, "That boy should have quit while he was a head."

Shame

The Gadarene demoniac in Sunday's gospel (Luke 8) lived among the graves and ran around naked. He had no shame over it, either.

When Adam sinned and realized he was naked, he hid himself.

On the whole, shame is a bad thing. It is evidence that we have sinned. We pray that God would guard and keep us so that we may not be misled into false belief, despair, and other great shame or vice. And yet, shame over sin is at least a little evidence that the person is aware of God's word and is at least a little grieved over having sinned. When there is no shame over sin, when sin runs amok and is celebrated and reveled in, then it's very likely that faith has been entirely squelched.

Every Cloud

... has a silver lining.

Devotions at Dinner?

Question: Has your family ever figured out a time to have family prayer that's not at meal-time?

I realized recently that we are not having prayers as often as we did. Neither are we eating together as a family so much. If I'm busy and supper is "wing it, guys!" then we don't have devotions. If the kitchen table is littered with schoolwork or a sewing project, even if I cook a Real Meal, we eat in the living room and do not follow-up with prayers.

When we used to have morning devotions and evening devotions, morning prayers were after breakfast and at the start of our homeschooling day, and evening prayers were after supper but before the first kid's bedtime. Once upon a longer time ago, when there were only two kids in the house and thus some cohesiveness to Bedtime, Bible stories and hymns were at bedtime.

Regular family meal-times don't guarantee that we will get out our Bibles and hymnals and pray together. But lack of family meal-time almost certainly guarantees that we won't pray together.

I wonder if recognizing this trend will make it easier for me to focus on getting a Real Meal ready each day, and put on the table instead of plunking ourselves on the couch or the floor or wherever.

So when does your family have prayers together? Are we the only ones who need to eat together before we pray together?

Today's Laugh

A student called up his mom one evening from his college and asked her for some money because he was broke.

His mother said, "Sure, sweetie. I will send you some money. You also left your economics book here when you visited two weeks ago. Do you want me to send that up too?"

"Uhh, oh, yeah, okay," responded the kid.

So his mom wrapped the book along with the checks up in a package, kissed Dad goodbye, and went to the post office to mail the money and the book. When she gets back, Dad asked, "Well, how much did you give the boy this time?"

"Oh, I wrote two checks: one for $20, and the other for $1000."

"That's $1020!!!" yelled Dad. "Are you going crazy???"

"Don't worry, hon," Mom said, kissing Dad on the on top of his bald head. "I taped the $20 check to the cover of his book, but I put the $1000 one somewhere between the pages in chapter 15!"

Imposing

On Paul's orientation day at college, we happened to be chatting in the cafeteria with one of the women on staff. Turned out Patti was the school counselor, and she was missing a family wedding in LaCrosse because Freshman Orientation is something she just could not miss. I was driving right past LaCrosse on my way home, so Patti asked if she could have a ride. It was such a pleasant ride to chat with her and get to know her. And because my car was going in that direction (and she was not shy to ask for a ride) she could attend the reception with her family.

Last week at symposium, Patti's son-in-law and I were talking. I mentioned this story and how much it had impressed me and how friendly she was. David said that, yes, his wife was just like her mom: they both will ask things that other people might be afraid to ask, but it's so refreshing that they don't pussy-foot around.

The next day, a few of us from church were munching on our brown-bag lunches while all the other symposium attendees went out to restaurants. We were talking and eating and laughing when Craig walked into the room and approached our table. He asked, "Mind if I join you?" knowing that of course we wouldn't mind. I don't know his family as well as I'd like to (they're really nice!), so it was super to have him with us.

The next day, somebody needed a ride back to the hotel after the barbecue at the park. As we drove him there, he asked where we live. "Just a couple of miles from church." John asked, "Then what are you doing coming all the way over here to drive me back to the hotel? I thought this would be on your way." No, it wasn't on our way. But there was nobody left at the park going in that direction, so we took him. It was no big deal; it was a pleasant chance to visit with him a bit more.

So, here's the thing:
Why am I so afraid of "imposing"? I don't see any of these situations as impositions. Not at all. I'm happy to have other people join the gang! But when I'm the one wanting to approach a group of people eating lunch, or when I'm the one asking for a favor, I feel like a big fat wart or leech. This is dumb. If I was delighted to be with Patti and Craig and John in these stories from last week, then mightn't other people have the same sort of delights?

Jogging

I haven't exercised at all since last August. But my leg problem is clearing up, and I have inserts in my shoes to deal with the foot pain. Once I got to the point that I could walk around the house without wincing, I figured I should get walking outside, with a little speed and effort invested. So I started "jogging" again on May 27. I've been a good girl. I've only skipped days when I was occupied at church all morning or traveling to/from vacation.

I hate jogging. I have been spending the whole time giving myself speeches: "One more step. Remember to breathe. Keep going. Don't stop. Breathe, you idiot! One more step. And another step. You can do it. No, I can't! YES, you can, you wimp! Breathe!"

As I dragged myself through those 10-minute stints of excruciating exercise (which y'all would laugh at because it was such weak-hearted exercise!) I kept telling myself that I just needed to get through the first month. It would all be much easier after a month.

Well, I noticed last week that exercising isn't quite as detestable as it was 3-4 weeks ago. And today I finally reached the point where I could think about something other than "Just keep going!" So hooray! Now I'm looking forward to eventually reaping some of the benefits of this self-inflicted punishment.

Today's Laugh

It is a fact that baseball players, especially catchers, started using metal cups --and later hard plastic-- in the 19th century. They did not use hard helmets until about WWII. They must have finally realized that your head is also important to protect.

Nutrition-Nazi Bakes for the Neighbor

A very large dead branch came down out of the crab-apple tree shortly before vacation. We haven't gotten around to dealing with it yet. I did mention to Andrew once that we (read: he) should trim the twigs and begin sawing the branch into logs. But we (read: he, to escape my nagging) hadn't gotten to it yet.

Our neighbor Doug was outside today, trimming trees. Taking down branches. Chopping them up with a chainsaw. Wow..... Do you know how much faster chainsaws are than handsaws? Let me tell you, it is a LOT faster!

I was trying to get up my nerve to go over there and propose a barter: a couple of loaves of hotfresh bread in trade for his taking a few minutes with his chainsaw to turn that branch into a few fireplace-sized pieces. But before I did, he came over and offered! (Isn't that must mega-sweet?!?)

After picking up the logs, I told Doug of my ponderings 20 minutes earlier. He said I didn't have to do that, it was no problem, and all those nice neighborly things. I asked him whether I should make white or whole-wheat if I were to make them some bread anyhow. He said white.

So it's rising.

It looks funny. It's all .... well .... WHITE.

I feel like I'm giving him something that will hurt him. He does something so nice and I turn around and give him WHITE bread. I feel like a bad person.

(Wow, this really makes me realize what nutso I am.)

Thinking about a Job

I keep checking the want ads, just in case something perfect shows up. And wow! Did I see a nifty-looking job this weekend! Now I need to decide whether to apply.

The job is to run the program that provides history fieldtrips to schoolkids. It would involve teaching in a "1917 schoolhouse" and also taking the kids to a 1860s museum a short walk away from the schoolhouse. Can you say "mega-fun"???

The upsides are that it sounds tremendously interesting to teach grade-school kids about living history. And that it's got lots of variety in the job (including planning the program, billing, communicating with the teachers who will be bringing their classes, and the actual teaching days).

It's a half-hour from home. Not exactly as close as I'd hoped to be for a job. But not too bad.

The downside is the amount of responsibility and time required. It's half-time, which is more than I'd want to put in for Andrew's last year (aka, catch-up and finish-it-off year) of homeschooling. And it involves marketing the program, talking it up in the community, finding schools to participate, enlisting volunteers, writing for grants to keep the program up and running, and otherwise promoting it. I'm not much for selling things, but as Gary said, maybe this is not pushing the program so much as letting people know it's there and the benefits of participating.

Yesterday afternoon, I was all gun-ho to fill out an application and go apply in person right away. But after I discovered the job description online (that is, the marketing aspects of the job) now I have a lot more to consider. It sure sounds like this would be the ideal job for me in so many ways! But am I ready to take on this much responsibility already, or do I need to wait another year when I'm down to homeschooling only one?

Today's Laugh

A very wealthy lawyer retreated for several weeks each year to his summer home in the backwoods of Maine. Every summer, he would invite one friend or another to stay with him there for a week or two. One summer he invited a Czechoslovakian friend to visit him. The friend, happy to get anything free from a lawyer, eagerly agreed. When the time came, they spent a wonderful time, getting up early every morning and enjoying the great outdoors.

One morning, as the lawyer and his Czechoslovakian friend were picking raspberries and blueberries for their breakfast, they were approached by two huge bears--a male and a female. The lawyer noticed them in time to run for cover. His friend, however, was not so lucky. The male bear reached him and swallowed him whole. Seeing this, the lawyer ran back to his Mercedes and raced for the nearest town to get the local sheriff. The sheriff grabbed his high-powered rifle and raced back to the berry area with the lawyer. All the while, lawyer was plagued by visions of a lawsuit from his friend's family. He just had to save his friend.

Luckily, the bears were still there. "He's in THAT one!" cried the lawyer, pointing to the male. The sheriff looked at the bears, leveled his gun, took careful aim, and shot the female. "What did you do that for?!" exclaimed the lawyer, "I said he was in the other bear!"

"Exactly," replied the sheriff. "Would you believe a lawyer who told you that the Czech was in the male?"

Wood Smoke

Ah, the smell of neighbors' fire places!

One neighbor has a smoke-house. We seldom smell it. Smoking is usually done during the chilly months. When the luscious odors come wafting our way, the closed window panes protect us from the temptation to eat ham in copious quantities.

For years we'd had a gas grill. When it died, we replaced it with a charcoal grill. (Cheaper, doncha know?) A friend introduced Gary to natural hardwood charcoal. Christopher also introduced Gary to a chimney lighter; this saves money on lighter fluid and eliminates the chemical taste of the starter. On now, on top of this, Gary has discovered yet more good flavor: the hickory wood chunks you can soak and then toss in with the charcoal. Boy oh boy! Every time we grill, it smells wonderful around here! Even when you haul out leftover hamburgers or pork chops, the enticing aroma spreads through the kitchen.

Issue #49 of Backwoods Home had an article on how to make your own charcoal. We did that once -- by accident. A smoking log was buried under enough ash, and we thought it was out. But the next time we went out to the fire pit, we discovered some of the log had become charcoal. That was neat! But given our current location and lack of hardwood, I'm not goin' for self-reliance; we'll buy real charcoal instead of making our own. Next we're going to have to try the inexpensive brand that my aunt told me was available at Walmart.

Today's Laugh

Martin had just received his brand new drivers license. The family troops out to the driveway and climbs in the car, where he is going to take them for a ride for the first time. Dad immediately heads for the back seat, directly behind the newly minted driver.

"I'll bet you're back there to get a change of scenery after all those months of sitting in the front passenger seat teaching me how to drive," says the beaming boy to his father.

"Nope," comes dad's reply. "I'm gonna sit here and kick the back of your seat as you drive, just like you've been doing to me all these years."