Arranged Marriages

What does a person do with a whole day to herself? (Well, besides clean and cook and catch up on all sorts of tasks?) Last week the kids were visiting friends, and Gary was at work. After cooking lunch-for-one (and I managed to pare back the recipe appropriately, amazingly enough!) I sat down to watch the beginning of a movie that none of them would want to see.

Self-control didn't kick in very well. I watched the whole movie that afternoon [like potato chips -- so good that ya just can't stop] and I didn't accomplish one lick o' dusting while watching.

The movie "Arranged" is about an Orthodox Jew and a Muslim. The two gals met each other as first-year teachers. Even though many people expected them to view each other as enemies, it turned out that they got along with each other better than with their co-workers, who had very different views of morality and faith and family. Each girl had reached the age where the parents were ready to arrange the daughter's marriage. Were they scandalized by the prospect of having the family involved in choosing a husband? What did the people around them think? How does it work?

I enjoyed the movie simply for the sake of a mushy love story, as well as a story of friendship. But what resonated most with me was how the main characters were fairly comfortable with their own beliefs in spite of being misfits with so much of the world. Yes, there is discomfort in knowing that the rest of the world thinks you're off your rocker, but not enough discomfort to abandon your integrity. I wonder sometimes how my co-workers see me: as a complete oddball or as just a little different?

A link to a video from a Lutheran pastor about the topic of dating and marriage.
A link to an article about homeschoolers being oddballs and proud of it.

African Peanut-Chicken Soup

Celebrating Gary's birthday, we ate supper at a little coffee shop around the corner from the theatre we attended. My adventurous choice was the African Peanut-Chicken Soup. Upon tasting this heavenly concoction, I melted with the joy of its deliciousness. Then I came home and decided I had to figure out how to make it myself.


Combine:
1 pint of chicken broth or turkey stock
2 Tbsp uncooked rice
1/2 cup chopped onion
1 tsp chopped hot pepper (more or less, to taste)
1/4 cup chopped fresh tomato

(or canned petite-diced tomato)

Bring to boil over high heat.
Lower heat and season soup with:
garlic powder
pepper
chili powder
salt if necessary
Then simmer until rice is done. (If using white rice instead of brown, saute onion for 5 minutes before adding broth and rice and tomato.)

Add:
1/3 cup chopped, cooked chicken or turkey
When meat is heated through in the soup,
stir in 3-4 Tablespoons peanut butter.


This easy-breezy recipe makes about 3 cups of delicious soup in about 45 minutes (or less, if you insist on white rice).


(Shhhh... nobody caught on to my near-rabid preference for brown rice here, d'ya think?)

Sharing in the Mystery of Suffering

A quote from p 312 of Hammer of God --
Aunt Agneta is speaking to the pastor, Torvik, about the cross and suffering and sharing each other's burdens (as she was talking about her grandson's apostasy and her plan to adopt his baby and take in the girlfriend he abandoned).

"Usually we suffer only for our own sins. But sometimes we are given the favor of suffering for the sins of others. That is part of the mystery of the Atonement: when one is joined to Christ, one is given the task of lifting a portion from a certain sinner and suffering in his stead, so that he does not have to carry alone all the bitterness of his deeds."
She spoke slowly and gently, as if she were afraid to distort a fine and fragile secrecy through clothing it in words.

Yes! There is joy in sharing someone else's burden.

And yes! There is something almost unspeakable about trying to explain some truths.

Today's Laugh

A cartoon of an April Fool's Joke gone very wrong.

Zoe

Just grabbing a couple of minutes to throw some pictures on the blog of Katie & Nathan's new arrival.

The Implanted Word

Pastor was talking the other day about how he likes the phrase, "the implanted Word." It reminds us of the seed being sown or planted (as in Matthew 13 and Mark 4). It reminds us that the Word grows and bears fruit. It reminds us that the plant grows better when manure is dumped on it [fertilizer, doncha know].

But what I never thought of before is that the seed is planted in dirt. What does God say in Genesis 3 (and every Ash Wednesday)? "Dust you are, and to dust you shall return."

Buying and Receiving Gifts

When there's not much money, a family learns to buy only what it needs, not what it wants.

But what constitutes needs and wants?

Yes, we need food, but do we need hamburger, or can we live on black-eyed peas and rice? Do we need fresh fruit, or is canned good enough? Do we need to go to the doctor and the pharmacy when we're sick, or is that a want? Would recuperating at home (with garlic and herbs and chicken soup) be sufficient? When you have back pain that a D.O. could alleviate, is it a need or a want to visit the doctor and get relief? Do I really need a car to drive to work, or could I walk or bike the 9 miles if I had to? We live in Wisconsin, so we need heat to stay alive through the winter, but do we need 67°, or is that a want? Would 55° be enough? I suspect that we are far more spoiled than I'm willing to admit.


For quite a few years, we've pretty much skipped over birthday presents. I don't think we've ever given anniversary gifts to our kids. What's under the Christmas tree is pretty minimal. This bothers other people more than it bothers us. When I think how many Americans are burdened by too much stuff, I realize that minimal (or sometimes even non-existent) gift-giving may not be such a terrible thing.

There is, however, one rule we've tried to follow. When we receive birthday gifts of cash, we don't spend it on necessities. When our parents say, "Here's a check; do something fun with it," we figure we ought to do something FUN. Right? But when you're living a mega-frugal life, it's hard to let money slip through your fingers. Often we go out to eat with gift-money, but (being frugal) we usually have money left after paying the bill and the tip. So rather than racking our brains to figure out something to spend the money on, we cash the checks, place the money in an envelope, and wait until something really really obvious shows up that we want to do for fun. That's part of the reason we could go to the marvelous play we attended Sunday. It's also why we decided to send two of our daughters to this play. Hey, we can justify it as their past birthday gifts!

And at times like this, I know for sure that we are much wealthier than I usually recognize! The expansive, joyous feeling in my chest from having watched that play -- well, that's not a need. But what a treasure it is!

Keeping His Word in Affliction

Before I was afflicted, I went astray,
but now I keep Your word.
It is good for me that I have been afflicted,
that I may learn Your statutes.
I know, O Lord, that Your judgments are right,
and that in faithfulness You have afflicted me.
Let, I pray, Your merciful kindness be for my comfort,
according to Your word to Your servant.

(Psalm 119:67, 71, 75-76)

If God were an angry judge, you'd think those verses meant that He kept sending us troubles until we Learn Our Lessons, and shape up, and fly right. Punish-punish-punish until we get our act together and obey already.

But ... if God is a loving father ... if God desires more than anything that we cling to Him in faith ... those passages from Psalm 119 look different. When we are afflicted and troubled, we see that we have no strength within ourselves to straighten up and fly right. When we are afflicted and troubled, we recognize our need for His kindness and mercy, His "judgment" that declares us righteous for the sake of Jesus' death to atone for our sin.

We are so quick to think "keeping His word" is about what we DO, instead of about hanging onto His promises of grace to us.

a capella chorales

What is it about singing good, strong Lutheran chorales, in 3- or 4-part harmony, without accompaniment? It's lush and rich. Our choir director (aka, pastor) doesn't like music to drag. And yet, when we sing in parts during the opening for Bible class or during chapel (that is, when there is no organ), the music slows down, almost like we're caressing the chords, enjoying the richness, letting it all soak into rafters and seep into our ears and our hearts.

Back When I Was Young

We had fire drills and tornado drills regularly at school. We even had drills to practice what we'd do in case of a nuclear attack. (I wonder if they still have those, or if it would be too scary for kids.)

But we but never lock-down drills. Murders? In school? Weapons? Who could imagine such a thing?

Talking to Yourself

On my second day of training at my new job, my mentor took me aside and told me that I had to stop talking to myself. She said that a couple of customers had given me odd looks while I was rehearsing to myself which step to take next in processing transactions. Sometimes the computer prompted me to insert a certain slip of paper into the printer, and I would pick up the wrong one, and then I told myself, "No, not the pink ticket, but the blue one."

Apparently, that is verboten.
People should not talk to themselves.

It was hard! I had spent decades narrating my life to children. That is a big part of how kids learn: Mom explains what she's doing and why and what the steps are. And then, when you homeschool kids, you have to discuss a gazillion different subjects, reading, dissecting, analyzing, postulating, all day, about nearly everything that comes into your life.

On top of that, I have found that I can focus better when I hear things and talk my way through new situations. I don't think that's so unusual, do you? I mean, maybe I ought not need that, but it helps with problem-solving in unfamiliar territory.

I worked hard to bite my lip at work and not let myself verbalize my way through the day.

It was SO good, then, when I repeatedly noticed my boss doing the exact same thing I'd been told to put a halt to. I'm not getting in trouble now for the times I slip up and talk to myself. And it's a good thing, because I still want to make use of the teaching tool of talking my way through the day!

I wonder about other people. Have you found that raising toddlers and/or homeschooling has nudged you into the world of talking to yourself? Is it normal for people to talk to themselves (and the refrigerator, and the laundry basket, and the toothbrush, and the grocery cart) more as they get older?

Over the Hill

Some years ago, we were visiting with our friends Fritz and Carol. Gary and Carol were in the kitchen getting a start on supper, and Fritz and I were sitting on the couch, just relaxing and talking. He said something I will never forget. He was 45 at the time, and he figured that meant he was probably "over the hill," more than halfway through life. He said he'd reached the top of the hill, and from here on out, he was not only closer to home, but also picking up momentum to reach his destination.

For most of the world, "over the hill" is a bad thing -- black balloons, black streamers, and birthday gifts of Depends and denture cleaner. But ever since Fritz made those comments in passing, I can't help but look at gray hairs and milestone birthdays as evidence of being that much closer to home.

I Demand an Apology

Well, okay, so that's not exactly how Paul put it.

Do you remember the story in Acts 16? Paul and Silas were preaching in Philippi. Paul cast the demon out of the fortune-telling girl, and her masters were majorly hacked off. So they went to the government, told lies about Paul's preaching (that he was teaching people to be subversive and to disobey the laws of the land), and had Paul thrown into prison. In the midst of the Christians' prayers and hymn-singing during the night, God sent an earthquake and opened the doors of the prison. The jailer was about to kill himself before his boss found out about the escaped prisoners and executed the poor jailer. But the prisoners were still there. They didn't save themselves when given an opportunity: they sacrificed their freedom for the sake of the jailer's life. That kind of love caught the jailer's attention. He heard their preaching, took them to his home, treated their wounds, and he and his whole household were baptized.

Okay, so the next morning the magistrates sent a message to the jailer to let these dudes go. The jailer told Paul and Silas they could be on their way.

"No."

What do you mean, "NO"????

They hadn't given Paul a trial. They beat him, uncondemned. They'd thrown him into prison for no reason. And now they wanted to shoo him out on the hush-hush. Paul said the government-guys were just going to have to come to the jail themselves and let him out -- they weren't going to get by with doing this in secret.

Was this snottiness? Was this revenge? Was this making them grovel and own up to their mistake?

I guess I'd never really thought it through before, but, yeah, that's kind of what I thought. But Pastor recently discussed a different (and more evangelical) reason for Paul's refusal to disappear quietly.

The public charge was that Paul preached against the government. The charge was that his preaching disrupted society. The charge was that his preaching was dangerous. But that's not true. As Jesus told Pilate at His trial, "My kingdom is not of this world." Christianity is no threat to the civil authorities. Paul wasn't wanting a personal apology. He wanted the authorities to publicly declare that Paul's teaching was not about insurrection or civil disobedience. And that was for the sake of the Gospel, not for the sake of mere human reputation. It was the honor of God --not self-defense-- that prompted Paul to wait for the magistrates themselves to come let him out of jail.

Wives and Daughters

The BBC mini-series "Wives & Daughters" is currently available on Netflix insta-play. It's one of those shows that looked good to me, but I didn't know when I'd ever find time to watch a five-hour show. With a cold recently, and finding it hard to stop and rest and heal, I determined that I would watch this mini-series, partially because it's looked enjoyable and partially because I figured I could make myself sit down and rest if I got myself hooked into a tv show.

I loved the scenery. I loved how the characters were portrayed -- realistically, and not all-good versus all-bad. I appreciated the way the plot turned out. I appreciated the attitude toward marriage held by the most important people in the story. In BBC-fashion, the humor was subtle and understated, but it was there, and there were some pretty funny spots.

I thought this was better than "Pride and Prejudice."

Rejecting the Messiah

As we have been studying Acts, we see again and again how Paul preached first in the synagogues. Some of the Jews rejoiced in the message. Others tried to kill the preacher or run him out of town or have him thrown into jail.

When I was growing up, one of my best buddies was Jewish. I always had this notion that our religious difference was because her family just didn't get it that Jesus was the messiah they were waiting for.

Pastor pointed out that the Jews' rejection of Jesus is not because they're lacking information that shows Jesus to be the messiah foretold by the Old Testament Scriptures. The Jews rejected what the Old Testament taught about the messiah. They didn't see their messiah as the suffering servant. They didn't see him as one who would bless the Gentiles as well as the Jews. They didn't see him so much as a savior from sin as a savior from their political enemies.

Some Jews believed in Jesus. These would be the ones who believed in a merciful Savior for all. They would be the ones who recognized the fulfillment of prophecy in His suffering, death, and resurrection. They would be the ones who believed in a God of love who forgives instead of demands.

The Jews who didn't believe in Jesus were the Jews who all along had misunderstood the God of the Old Testament, who had perceived him to be a vengeful god, and who expended their efforts trying to get in his good graces. So when Jesus came, forgiving prostitutes and tax collectors, it wasn't necessarily the person Jesus they were rejecting; rather, they were rejecting all that the Old Testament had said of the messiah-to-come.

Corner Gas

Watching "Corner Gas" the last few weeks has been a hoot! Jenny recommended it. It's a Canadian sit-com, set in Podunkville ("Dog River"). It's funny. And it's --overall-- pretty clean. There are jokes that are plays on words. But mostly it's jokes about the interaction of the characters and about life in a small town, primarily at the coffee shop and the convenience store. We're burning through the Netflix CD's of the show, and we'll be lost when we finish the whole series and there are no more to watch. The first two seasons have been really fun!

Government and Inflation

Charles Sumner, Republican senator from Massachusetts, announcing that he would vote in 1862 for the Legal Tender Act, even though he believed in "hard money" (backed by gold and silver):

Is it necessary to incur all the unquestionable evils of inconvertible paper, forced into circulation by act of Congress? To suffer the stain upon our national faith? To bear the stigma of a seeming repudiation? To lose for the present that credit which, in itself, is a treasury? And to teach debtors everywhere that contracts may be varied at the will of a stronger? Surely, there is much in these inquiries which make us pause.... Surely we must all be against paper money. We must all insist on maintaining the integrity of the government. We must all set our faces against any proposition like the present, except as a temporary expedient.

So the legislators and economists 150 years ago worried that fiat money would bring disaster. Many commentators of that day (and since) have suggested that greenbacks turned out not to be so bad after all.

Anybody look at the national debt recently? Anybody heard of the protests in Madison WI because government employees believe that the government has a never-ending supply of money? Anybody notice that many debtors today have indeed learned that it's okay to change a contract if they can get by with it? (The attitude of our former governor seemed to be, "Oh, piffles, why should we have to pay back Minnesota just because we owe them money?")

Kegels versus Squatting

Before I jog for 20 minutes, it's important to go potty. I have often felt irresponsible that I didn't do my Kegel exercises as my doctors and midwife told me I ought. But, hey, it's not so bad after all: it turns out that doing them wrong is far worse than not doing them at all.

Cheryl recently pointed out to some friends a website that explains the benefits of squatting. Kids squat. My 2-yr-old granddaughter squats all the time when she plays. It's practical and easy. We lose it as we grow older. Squatting isn't seen as proper and pretty and lady-like. But it's good for the tuschie-muscles, which is good for the pelvic floor.

Childbirth is easier for women who don't confine themselves to sitting just in chairs, but who squat in the garden or while reading to their kids or just for the exercise of it.

The results also appeal to our vanity, as gals look better in jeans when gravity hasn't had its way with your muscles that want to droop and sag. But flat-butt syndrome isn't just about appearances; it may very well prevent (or at least put off) the need for Depends.

The two interviews are a starting place if you want to learn more; plus, the sense of humor makes it fun to read. One thing that amazed me is that there are websites designed to teach people how to exercise the body enough to be able to squat. (Wow, I didn't realize people might have to work up to that.)

Today's Laugh

I have reached the age where happy hour is the hour I get to take a nap.

Illness and Employees

I'm suddenly feeling rather cranky.

I've had a touch of a cold this week. Nothing much. I did have a low-grade fever on Monday, but rest and tea and garlic helped. Today I noticed that my eye felt funny. Checked in the mirror, and sure enough, down in the conjunctiva of one eye, it's getting red instead of the white and pink it's supposed to be. I've spent the day washing my hands, flushing my eye frequently, and even taping on a slab of raw garlic for a few hours. With only 6 hours of treatment under my belt, the pink eye hasn't begun yet to improve much.

Then it crossed my mind that maybe, just maybe, I ought to check at work to make sure it's okay for me to come in tomorrow. The pink eye should be much improved by then. And it's not like I'm sick and can't do the work. Granted, pink eye is very contagious, but I'd be washing my hands frequently to protect myself from spreading the virus to my other eye, and this hand-washing would protect my co-workers too. Still, I thought I'd better verify that it's okay for me to go to work tomorrow.

And it's not. Shoot. I can understand their perspective. But still ... I'm letting them down, not showing up tomorrow as I was scheduled. Shoot.

They asked if I'd been to the doctor to have it diagnosed. Pink eye? Doctor? It's pink eye. How hard is that to diagnose? Besides, why go to a doctor for something viral -- something for which the doctor has no cure, no remedy, no treatment. All he can do is tell me to wash my hands a lot ... or maybe to wait until my eye gets bad enough for a secondary [bacterial] infection to set in and then give me a prescription for that. But I have no intention of sitting around waiting for the whites of my eye to turn red and for pus to build up. Icky!!!

Having a day off work should be nice, like one of my regularly scheduled days off. But I feel like such a schmuck to stay home just because of pink eye.

Italian Pot Pie

Wanting to make something that took no effort on a day when I wasn't feeling well, I invented something, in hopes that it would be edible. Reaction from the rest of the family was that I better write a recipe down so that the dish can be replicated.

meatballs
spaghetti sauce
frozen spinach
cream cheese
American cheese
pot-pie topping


Pour ½ pint of marinara sauce into the bottom of an 8x8" baking dish. Add enough meatballs to cover the bottom of the pan; I used twenty-four 1½" diameter meatballs. Pour another pint of spaghetti sauce on top of the meatballs. (If your meatballs are still frozen, begin baking this part of the dish while you assemble the other ingredients.)

If your frozen, chopped spinach is not thawed yet, begin boiling it according to the directions. When thawed or simmered, drain well.

Stir together the spinach and about 3-5 ounces of softened cream cheese. When your meatballs are thawed, put the layer of spinachy cream cheese on top of the tomatoey meatballs.

Add the pot-pie topping.
3/4 cup flour (mostly whole wheat)
1 Tbsp sugar
1 tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp salt
with --
1 egg
1 Tbsp oil
1/2 cup milk
1/2 tsp vanilla
1/2 cup shredded cheddar

(You can leave the cheese out of the batter, and place a solid layer of American cheese slices between the cream cheese and the top crust.)

Bake about 20 minutes at 350°, until crust is done. Before serving, warm the few ounces of spaghetti sauce left in the jar, and pour over the top of your pot pie.

Today's Laugh

What did Eli Whitney say to his wife?

Keep your cotton-pickin' hands off my gin.



from Pastor in Bible class last week

This Is What Democracy Looks Like?

One of the common chants for the protests in Madison and elsewhere throughout the state is, "This is what democracy looks like!"

Is this what democracy looks like? Intimidating voters who want to participate, to have a voice in government? Committing the felony of destroying recall petitions? Policemen standing by and allowing protesters to interfere with the democratic process? Threatening people's safety and even their lives?

Why have we not heard "Shame! Shame! Shame!" from the unions and the Democrats directed toward those who are committing these crimes? Why have we not heard this behavior soundly denounced?

Uncircumcised Lips

In Exodus 6, when God tells Moses to go speak to Pharaoh, Moses doesn't want to go. "How shall Pharaoh heed me, for I am of uncircumcised lips?"

Pastor spoke about that odd phrase. Who are the uncircumcised? Those who do not believe the promise God gave. Those who did believe would be circumcised as God had told Abraham and his descendants.

Pharaoh wasn't going to listen to Moses' message. When Moses went to Pharaoh the first time, asking a leave of absence for the Israelites, Pharaoh increased the burden on his slaves.

The children of Israel weren't too pleased with Moses. "Go away! Leave us alone! If this is the kind of help we get from you, we don't need it!" Once their straw was taken away, without a corresponding decrease in their brick-making quotes, the Israelites wanted to call down God's judgment on Moses and Aaron.

But it's not just the Egyptians and the Israelites who don't want to listen to God. Even the prophet Moses says that he is "of uncircumcised lips." Even Moses isn't too sure he believes God. Even Moses wants to run away from the message and not preach what he's told. Even Moses wants to escape the theology of the cross and find a more comfortable way.

But does God give up on them? Nope. Does God withdraw His promise? Nope. Does God do the good He intended to do all along, in spite of their massive amounts of unbelief? Yup.

Will he do the same for me? And for you? Yup.

Today's Laugh (for those up on Wisconsin politics)

Stolen from Tammy:

How do you stop 14 runners?
With 1 Walker.

Washing Dishes

About a year ago, I was visiting Jane for several days. On Tuesday night, I began to help clean up the kitchen. "No, you don't!" I was told. "That's Patrick's job." (Or is it Jonathan's job now?) So I sat down, and we chatted and noshed and drank some more.

But Wednesday night, I washed some pots and pans. I cleared some dishes and put away some food and wiped some counters. "You don't have to do that!" "I know. I know! But pleeeeeease let me! I neeeeed to!"

Y'know, once upon a time, I would run into people who said they like to wash dishes. I thought they were lying. Or insane. The only people who like to wash dishes are 2-yr-olds and 3-yr-olds. So I thought.

And there I was -- wanting to do dishes. Feeling better to wash dishes. Not because it was "the right thing to do" to be a "good guest." Not because it was necessary. (See, I always figured that people who "like to wash dishes" were simply commenting on liking the results, liking the clean counter, liking the fact that the chore was done and out of the way for a while.)

What happened to me????

Turns out that I had that same feeling after I started working at outside-the-home paid employment. There is something good and pleasurable and enjoyable about washing dishes. That's when I realized why I'd enjoyed washing dishes in my friend's kitchen. I was in the midst of a stint at symposium, manning the CCA booth, selling books, talking to old friends and acquaintances, doing something that seemed kinda sorta career-ish. To wash dishes was to do what I'm settled with, what I'm good at, what's important and necessary. And there is pleasure in that! When I was working full-time during training weeks at my new job, it was so relaxing, so enjoyable, so right, to be at home in my kitchen, putzing the the daily necessities of keeping a home.

A few weeks later we had a huge snowstorm. The first school-day of the week was Friday. Two of the teachers at our parochial school were so happy and content to be at home for nearly a week, doing housework, cooking, tending to the mundane needs of their families and houses.

Too bad we don't appreciate it until we don't have it any more.




(Important note to everyone who lives with me: This post is NOT to be construed to mean that you ought not wash dishes. Trust me on this: even when you think you're doing allll the dishes, there is still plenty of dish-washing that I'm partaking of. Besides, at home I also have the joys of sock-folding and floor-sweeping. And I wouldn't want to deprive you.)

Today's Laugh

Why did the Amish woman divorce her husband?

Because he just kept driving her buggy.




from Sandy, told in Bible class this week

Crumpetty Pancakes

Five quarts of sour milk? When Maggie was sick and banned from milk, we ended up with a lot that soured before we drank it. (That showed us who's our milk-guzzler!) Raw milk doesn't go rancid when it sours as does pasteurized milk. Still, five quarts will make a LOT of pancakes and muffins.

When I finally was ready to use the last of the milk (five weeks after it had gone sour), I was in a hurry to throw some pancakes onto plates before we left for morning chapel. I didn't want to spend the time to combine the dry ingredients in one bowl and the wet ingredients in another bowl. I took a shortcut. I added the baking soda, sugar, baking powder, and salt directly to the milk/egg/oil mixture. After beating that together well, I began to measure the flour. Oh my goodness -- in that brief amount of time, the chemical reaction between the baking soda and the sour milk caused the whole thing to grow and foam and expand. (It was pretty cool!) I stirred in the flour and began to fry the pancakes, wondering how badly I might have ruined them.

But they weren't ruined. They had this wonderful texture that made us think of crumpets, kind of light and spongy with some crispness on the outside. I might try this again ... on purpose this time!

John 3:16

Begotten of the Father from eternity,
God of God,
Light of Light,
very God of very God,
begotten, not made,
being of one substance with the Father,
by whom all things were made. (Nicene Creed)


Pastor Bender comments
(in Lutheran Catechesis -- Catechist Edition)
on John 3:16 --

Since God the Father so loved the world,
then the only begotten Son so loved the world
because the Son is one with the Father
in His nature
and will to save.

Hypo-Allergenic Baby Powder

I read the label on that bottle. I did. Really.

Not carefully enough, though. I saw the words "pure cornstarch" on the label. But it wasn't 100% pure cornstarch. The baby powder had a small amount of perfume and aloe. I figured that out after I developed the rash and the itch.

So back to the old-fashioned way that I remember my mom using when she was diapering my baby sister.

One thin cotton hankie. One box of cornstarch from the kitchen cupboard. Lay the handkerchief flat on the table. Dump a small pile of cornstarch in the middle -- maybe 1/3 cup. Pull together the corners and edges of the hankie, wrapping them tightly with a rubber band so that there are no leaks, so that the cornstarch can escape the pouch only by sifting through the cloth. This handy-dandy little pouch of cornstarch can be patted onto the places where you'd like to sprinkle "baby powder."

1. Cheaper than normal baby powder. Even cheaper than generic.
2. "Greener" because you're not buying those plastic bottles that the powder comes in.
3. Hypo-allergenic (for virtually everyone).
4. Less messy because there's not so much powder going into the air or spilling on the floor.
5. Did I mention cheaper?

Self-Denial

Self-denial.

We think of giving up chocolate for Lent. We think of denying ourselves what the flesh craves: a nice vacation on a beach, new clothes, steak and lobster. We think of monks who take vows of poverty. We usually think of self-denial in terms of abstaining from things that affect our senses.




Commenting on Luke 9:23, "If anyone desire to come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow Me," Pastor Bender writes,

Self-denial is central to faith in Christ, and such self-denial is the denial that a person's own good works can in any way save him.
From Lutheran Catechesis -- Catechist (2nd edition)



Self-denial. I deny that I can save myself.
Self-denial. I deny that the reason God prefers me is because I'm such a good little Christian.
Self-denial. I deny that my faith and piety are of myself.

Nothing about chocolate....

Burying the Alleluias

Apparently, a formal "farewell to alleluia" has been gaining popularity for Transfiguration Sunday. There are a few things I don't understand about this.

1. "Say the black; do the red." Normally, we do the things in the liturgy (such as foregoing alleluias during Lent) without a ceremony to focus on them. It seems to me that "burying the alleluias" is saying the red.

2. Why is this done on Sunday? If it is to be done, oughtn't the farewell be at vespers on Tuesday? We sang our alleluias during the prayer offices between Sunday morning's service and Wednesday morning matins. Doesn't it seem odd to bury alleluias that still have a few days' worth of use left in 'em?

How Do You Pronounce That Name??

My friend Sandy tells about a recent meeting when the Kenyans and a few Americans were working on their new hymnal --



The first part of our meeting with the Tanzanians was spent in casual conversation, getting to know each other a bit. I was puzzled by one of their pronunciations, so tried to ask about it. The conversation went something like this:

Let me ask you about the pronunciation of the word "Tanzania." In Swahili the second-last syllable typically receives the accent, so I would have expected you to say TanzaNIa, but you are saying TanZAnia. Why is that?

Both Tanzanians and the Kenyan all jumped to say, "Of course we say TanzaNIa! It is TanzaNIa!!! When someone says TanZAnia, it is the quickest way to see he is a foreigner. He doesn't know the correct pronunciation."

I was truly dumbfounded, having heard them say TanZAnia at least a dozen times. All I could think was, "Then you are foreigners, because that's how you're saying it." But how could I say that? I'd be accusing them either of not knowing how to pronounce the name of their own country, or of not hearing what was coming out of their mouths. So I just kept quiet.

A short time later, one of them used "TanZAnian" in a sentence. Kantor Resch, who had been sitting quietly beside me and listening to the whole conversation, smiled and said quietly to me, "He said TanZAnian, didn't he?"

To which Masuki replied: "Of course I did. I'm speaking in English."

As Good as Home-Made

It used to be that food manufacturers advertised their products "as good as home-made" or "tastes as great as Mom used to make."

When I was talking with an acquaintance recently, she commented on her chicken pot pie. She doesn't cook a lot, but this is one recipe she makes that turns out fabulous. "You know what? It's as good as what you can buy at the store!" The other participants in the conversation were impressed.

So now we at home have reached the goal when we make food that tastes as good as what's mass-manufactured? Something has changed!

Jesus, Priceless Treasure

In Thine arms I rest me;
foes who would molest me
cannot reach me here.
Though the earth be shaking,
every heart be quaking,
Jesus calms my fear.
Lightnings flash and thunders crash.
Yet, though sin and hell assail me,
Jesus will not fail me.


Earthquake? Lightning and thunder? Sin and hell making their attacks?

You'd almost be tempted to think that this is about Good Friday.

Your Signature

A customer was really upset with me the other day. He was making a substantial withdrawal from his savings account, and I asked for ID. He's been banking with our bank for over 50 years, and he thought we should know him.

Now, maybe the long-term tellers really do know this customer I waited on. I'm a newbie; at this point there are only a few customers I recognize without checking their ID. But (here's the thing!) most of the customers don't know I'm using my computer to check their ID. So if I hit a computer glitch and cannot look up signatures and photo-IDs, then I have to ask to see your driver's license.

Wouldn't you rather the teller ask than to hand your hard-earned money to a stranger who's claiming to be you? I love it when I ask a customer for ID and the person thanks me for making them go to the trouble of digging out their wallet!

What Scumbags

"There is absolutely nothing in us that should cause God to forgive."

What do you think of that? It's a sentence from the new Lutheran Catechesis -- Catechist Edition, as Pastor Bender discusses Psalm 130. We might think that sentence is a downer. But it's not!!! It is good news!

If there is nothing in me that causes God to forgive, if all His forgiveness comes because of His decision, His will, His suffering, His promise, His plan, His love, His mercy, then ... well, think what that means. I don't chase Him off because of my failings. I don't undo His promise because I was weak yet again. I don't have to worry that I didn't do enough to stay in His good graces. Because it's all GRACE.

Nothing --nothing nothing nothing-- in me to make God be favorable to me. But He still is.

Gosh, that's worth some Tigger-ish bouncing and a HappyDance of Joy!

Lutheran Catechesis -- Catechist Edition

We finished our work two weeks ago. The manuscript was delivered to the printer/binder; they've told us when they'll have the book ready. If you'd like to pre-order, click here.

I loved reading the new material!!!!!




Those who are interested in reading about Christian vocation will find the section on the Table of Duties helpful. Also, the paragraphs on "Bible Verses for Meditation" persistently and sweetly remind us of what Christ has done, and that it is His work alone (through the Word!!) that draws us to Him and keeps us.

Thriving in the 21st Century

Barbara Frank has a new book out. It's about the economic changes in the last couple of decades and what impact that has on our families and how we raise our children. Check out the website for some interesting reading!

Curly-Fry Light Bulbs

Those new, expensive, "energy efficient" light bulbs seem to burn out much faster than the old-fashioned incandescent bulbs. Someone recently explained to me that fluorescent bulbs use a lot more energy when turned off & on than when they stay on. Well, how does that work in a house? It might work fine in a school or a factory or a place of business, where the lights are on all day. But in a home, where you move from the living room to the kitchen, run out to the garage for a minute, go to the laundry room to change a load every 50 minutes, etc?? No wonder my curly-fry light bulbs need to be replaced every 5 months instead of the incandescents' every year (or, as the package for the curly-fry bulbs proclaims, every 5 years).

I was in the room when a curly-fry bulb burned out the other day. Puff of smoke and a sizzle sound. Ick! Makes me scared to leave the bulbs on, unattended.

Why can't we keep our old-fashioned light bulbs that don't pollute with mercury, that don't give people migraines, that don't burn out so fast, that cost less? Congress was short-sighted when they passed the law which put so many restrictions on energy usage that they virtually outlawed the future sales of incandescent bulbs.

Guess what? HR 91 has been introduced which will repeal the law. Call your Congressman. Save our normal light bulbs from extinction.

Taking Away the Idols

In Exodus and Deuteronomy, the first commandment says, "You shall have no other gods before Me." What we recite is shorter, though: "You shall have no other gods." After all, God did not mean that it's okay to have other gods, but, well, y'know, He wants to be in first place ahead of the others.

And yet ...

He does let us keep our other gods. Over the course of a lifetime, He takes away one god after another. Sometimes those gods go toppling in a hurry: when there's a financial disaster, or a diagnosis of a deadly disease, or the death of one who is especially dear to us. Or maybe those gods aren't toppled easily. Maybe we simply become aware of our idolatry and confess it and beg forgiveness, unable to free ourselves. Sometimes the true God goes slowly and gently, unwilling to free us of our idols so quickly that we are unable to stand. (Think of Job's wife who advised him to curse God and die.)

It is amazing that, even in something so fatal as idolatry, God's love for us is paramount. He saves us from our idols. But He does it in a time and a manner that is good for us -- not in a way that focuses on His due place as king.

Matthew 6:25

Is not life more than food and the body more than clothing?

The question that Matthew answers here is answered succinctly by John: "In Him was life, and the life was the light of men."

Be Kind to Your Teller

Sometimes clerks make mistakes. They may give you 15 cents too much change, or a penny too little. If the customer is shorted, he may think it's no big deal if he ends up with 20 cents too little. "Ah, why bother fussing over that?" He may think that he doesn't want to look like a cheapskate by complaining about getting $4.91 in change instead of $4.92.

But from the teller's perspective, she'd a lot rather have you point out the mistake so that she can keep her drawer in balance. Yup. (Guess who had a customer leave too quickly today?)

Bowing Down

Remember Joseph's dreams about how his family would bow down to him? It ticked off his brothers, and they decided to get rid of him. But, sure enough, the day eventually arrived when they were bowing down to Pharaoh's second-in-command.

About 17 years later, Jacob is blessing his sons before his death. He says to Judah, "Your father's children shall bow down before you" (Genesis 49:8). Wait, wasn't that the same prophecy as had been made about Joseph?




At the name of Jesus
every knee shall bow,
in heaven,
and on the earth,
and under the earth,
and every tongue confess that
Jesus Christ is Lord
to the glory of God the Father.

Lutheran Memorial Chapel

A video about a friend's congregation and theology. Mom, I thought you might like to see Ken. Our godson Mark is the second person seen after the organist talks about working with the other instrumentalists.

When Isaac Died

In our Bible story today (Genesis 46), Jacob traveled to Egypt and met the pharaoh. He said he was pretty young -- only 130 -- not nearly as old as his forefathers lived to be. This is probably tremendously unimportant, but I got to wondering about the math.

Isaac's twins were born when he was 60. He lived to be 180. That means Jacob was 120 when his dad died. That means Isaac died 10 years before the children of Israel went to live in Goshen. Since Simeon spent two years in jail before Jacob allowed the fellows to return to Egypt with Benjamin, and since there were seven years of plenty before the famine, and since Joseph spent two years in prison prior to the butler remembering about his ability to tell dreams, that means Isaac died sometime after Joseph had interpreted the dreams for the butler and the baker.

That means Isaac was still alive when Joseph disappeared and while impenitence was reigning in the brothers' hearts. (I never noticed that before because the sequence of the stories is not chronological: the Bible wraps up Isaac's life-story before delving into Joseph's.)

Free at Last!

The book is in the mail to the publisher!

Saturday morning, before heading off to work, I finished all my proofreading and editing. I couldn't believe how buoyant and free I felt. Saturday afternoon I did a lot of goofing off: chatting with online friends, paying bills, reading email, doing laundry, writing emails, and making a small dent in the long-neglected cleaning. Invigorating!

Funny how the mundane chores of life can be so refreshing and satisfying after focusing on something else for so long. As of breakfast time on Saturday, I was no longer car shopping, my kid was finally healthy, and the book (which had been hanging over our heads for four years) was no longer anything I was responsible to work on. I keep having this feeling that pretty soon something is going to explode into sucking all our attention, but for the moment, I am on a hiatus of house work and grocery shopping, with plans to get back to some "real schoolwork" right quick. And I'm loving it.

Filthy Lucre

You know it's been a slow day on the teller line when you wash your hands at lunch break and the water isn't black.

Teachers Should Be Able to Spell

Teachers and other protesters have descended upon Madison. ABC News ran a story with interviews and video of the crowds. One sign (in very neat handwriting) declared

Teacher's Rights

Arrrrrrgggghhhh!!! This is supposed to make us proud of the job our teachers do? On top of that, ABC chose to give that sign exposure on-air.



Oh, maybe I shouldn't be such a fussy....

Feminism Explained

A five-minute video that pretty much sums up the logic of feminism. In places, it's a hoot (but only if you can laugh at some stuff that's ultimately sad for the country).

Joseph Tests His Brothers

We've recently been in the Joseph stories from the end of Genesis. Joseph "tested" his brothers. I never quite understood what that meant. What did he want from them -- to prove they were finally being honest? Or what?

Pastor pointed out something in chapel that I'd never considered. Joseph did not know what had happened to the family in his absence. We know the story because we've read the end of the book. But Joseph didn't know. Last he knew, his brothers wanted him dead and consented to "merely" sell him into slavery.

When they show up in Egypt and bow before the prince, Joseph asks them about their father and if they have any more brothers. They told him. They told him the truth. But he didn't know whether it was true. He didn't know whether they'd killed Benjamin. (After all, killing Benjamin would be a reasonable next step for them as they eliminated Dad's favorites.)

And so Joseph learns eventually that, yes, they are telling the truth, and yes, they show no jealousy when Benjamin gets treated better than the rest of them, and YES, they do what they can (Judah even offering himself in Benjamin's place) so ensure that Benjamin might be free and go back to his father.

Pastor also pointed out that, as the story progressed, the brothers came to realize that they were very exposed. It was like they had no secrets from this prince. It was like God had found them out and was showing them their sin. When they realized they could not hide anything, they were broken and contrite. And that's what Joseph desired, so that he might shower love and mercy on them and not have it be rejected.

Back When I Was Young

Back when I was young, you had to lick the postage stamps.

Remember when they first came out with the peel-n-press stamps, and you had to pay extra for them? Maggie doesn't remember. She was reading a comic book today and wanted to know why anybody would lick a stamp.

Maybe this explains why stickers were such a big deal with I was little. It was always a treat to be the one who took possession of the Chiquita sticker off the bunch of bananas. When else did you see a sticker???

XO XO XO

My aunt sent Maggie a cheer-up package a few days ago: some of those fun Valentiney socks. So the sick (but improving) kid shows me her present, and the first thing I notice is "ox."

"Ox?? Why did Aunt Sue send you ox-socks?"



Oh.
The socks with the little candy-hearts-with-messages were upside-down.

Moo.

Kids' Bank Accounts

With grandparents living long distances from their grandkids, grandmas often mail checks for birthday presents and Valentine presents and Christmas presents, made out to the child. I can't remember what we used to do with those; I do remember having little kids scratch out their name to endorse checks. But what happens to kids who can't even begin to write their name?

It's hard to be the teller when someone comes in with a check made out to Someone Else. "But it's my kid's check. He's too little to sign his name." That may be, but when you come into the bank without the kid, and have no evidence for me that this isn't a check that belongs to your adult neighbor (think what happens when Mom kept her maiden name and Kid's name has no relation to Mom's), please be patient when the teller is hesitant to hand over cash to you.

Most banks offer great deals for kids to have savings accounts. They often waive the fees and the minimum balance. It's not that hard to get the kid his own bank account, with one of the parents as custodian or co-owner. That gives you a place to deposit those gift checks without putting the bank in a precarious situation, and you can even withdraw the funds after the check clears.

You Know You're Old When ...

you're talking with your co-worker about enjoying history. She agrees. She tells you that they didn't learn enough history in school. She tells you that she has been watching a mini-series documentary on the Kennedy family, and she's been loving it, and why didn't they teach her any of this in school?

And I'm thinking, they didn't teach it to me in school either. A lot of it hadn't happened yet ....

Correction

I don't like to be wrong. I don't like to be corrected. I suspect nobody does.

So maybe I get just a bit annoyed when I try to "do the right thing" so that I can avoid being corrected ... and still screw up ... and run afoul of somebody. And then I get corrected anyhow. Dang it! I wanted to avoid that whole scene. When I ask questions in hopes of doing the job right, in hopes of not being annoying, I may be told, "So, what's the problem? Why not just be corrected? Chill out. Who cares if you botched it?" Uh ... I care. That's who.

But sometimes I understand that mindset much better because I'm on the other end of the correcting. When I have to correct someone else, I just want to throw up my hands in frustration when the response is "Well, I'll just go away then" or "I'll never say anything because I don't know what is okay to say and what is offensive." It doesn't make you a bad person when someone has to say, "Please stop that." It doesn't mean a child is less loved by the parents if the parents must issue a correction. It doesn't mean an employee is in hot water if the boss gives a clearer set of instructions (which may include corrections). When God chastises, it is because He loves, not because He's ticked. Honestly now, we don't really think it would be better for the person in charge to refrain from correcting someone; do we?

Is it really that demeaning for someone to say, "That behavior is going to result in a problem"?

Vote Tuesday

You folks in Wisconsin -- mark your calendars for the 15th. Supreme Court race.

Glorifying God

After God whopped the Jewish Christians upside the head with the evidence that His grace and mercy were for the Gentiles too, we read that the Christians of the circumcision party in Jerusalem glorified God, saying, "Then God has also granted to the Gentiles repentance unto life." (Acts 11:18)

I don't know about you, but I find it enchanting that it "glorifies God" to say that He is bringing sinners to Himself, saving people whether they're like us or not.

That's His glory.

Bad Fathers

Human fathers get their title because they are called after the true Father. It's not that we call God "Father" because He is like fathers; it's the other way around. If you were blessed with a super-duper dad, or even if you had a wretched scoundrel of a father, we need to learn that every failing (small or large) in our fathers does not show us who God is; He is different; He does no harm -- never ever; He does not love conditionally; He does protect and provide.

The Fast God Has Chosen

Sunday's [3-year] appointed Old Testament reading was from Isaiah 58:
Is this not the fast that I have chosen:
to loose the bonds of wickedness,
to undo the heavy burdens,
to let the oppressed go free,
and that you break every yoke?
Is it not to share your bread with the hungry,
and that you bring to your house the poor who are cast out;
when you see the naked, that you cover him,
and hide not yourself from your own flesh?
Then your light shall break forth like the morning,
your healing shall spring forth speedily,
and your righteousness shall go before you;
the glory of the Lord shall be your rear guard.
Then you shall call, and the Lord will answer;
you shall cry, and He will say, "Here I am."


We hear this passage and immediately think of what God demands of us, what we are to do. We are to share our food and clothing, to help those who are captives and in need. And that's true.

But this passage is also a picture of the cross of Jesus -- not merely the fast He requires of us, but even more, the fast He chose to undertake. In His death, He loosed His people from bondage to Satan and sin. He gives His body that we might eat the Bread of Life. By His death, He gathers us poor into His mansions. He was not ashamed to be naked on the cross, but covers us with the robe of His righteousness. He cried out to the Father, "My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?" and the Father answered, "Here I am" and raised Him up on the morning of the third day that we might have light and healing.

Today's Laugh

A woman from Wisconsin had 50-yard-line tickets for the Super Bowl. As she sat down, a man came along and asked her if anyone is sitting in the seat next to her. "No," she said, "the seat is empty."

"This is incredible," said the man. "Who in their right mind would have a seat like this for the Super Bowl, the biggest sporting event in the world, and not use it?"

Somberly, the woman says, "Well... the seat actually belongs to me. I was supposed to come here with my husband, but he passed away. This is the first Super Bowl we have not been to together since we got married in 1967."

"Oh I'm sorry to hear that. That's terrible. But couldn't you find someone else -- a friend or relative or even a neighbor to take the seat?"

The woman shakes her head. "No, they're all at the funeral."



Ooooh. That's from my friend Suzanne. Tsk tsk tsk! You'd be tempted to think she lives in Wisconsin, she knows cheeseheads so well ....

Upon This Your Confession

The absolution spoken on Sunday morning after the general confession sometimes begins: "Upon this your confession, I by virtue of my office as a called and ordained servant of the Word, announce the grace of God to all of you, ..."

Too often we think that that means God is forgiving us because we confess. We think our confession is what triggers His forgiveness.

Uh,... there'd be a theological problem with that, don't you suppose?

Maybe, instead, the pastor says "upon this your confession" not as a cause for the absolution, but as the occasion upon which the absolution is spoken. The absolution is valid because of Jesus' death on the cross, but when we confess our sin, we need to hear (again and again and again) the absolution. Nevertheless, the sinful nature prefers to twist those weekly words ("upon this your confession") into something that gives us at least a little credit before God for believing in Him.

God Will See You Through It

Scars.

When things go wrong, upbeat Christians will sometimes cheerily assure you that God will see you through the troubles. When things go wrong, people point out how God has brought you through trials in the past, and He will be faithful and bring you through these current trials too.

But some of those past trials left scars -- death of a loved one, divorce, irreversible health problems, etc. There is no assurance that these current trials will not also have their ramifications and leave their own scars.

It is true that the Lord will work for our benefits even when harm comes to us. It is true that He will preserve us in the faith and see us through these trials to bring us to our heavenly home. But sometimes the prospect of new scars is daunting.

Deep Snow

No getting out the front door this morning. It wouldn't budge. We raised the garage door, made a narrow path, and started moving snow.

Gary hurt his back shoveling yesterday. He collapsed last night; his legs just wouldn't hold him. I've called doctors' offices, but they aren't open today. He's doing better now, he can get himself to a stand. We haven't decided yet whether to try to get him to the hospital or wait till tomorrow in hopes of finding the D.O. or chiropractor or family doctor available. Just in case, Andrew and I managed to break through about 1/3 of the driveway's width, in hopes that we could squeeze the car through that passage.

After some breakfast and a rest, it's back outside to make sure the vents are clear, start roof-raking, and then try to free the front door.

Stilling of the Storm

On the road to Emmaus, Jesus explained to the two disciples (Luke 24) how the entire Old Testament was about Him and His work. Earlier He had told the Pharisees the same thing: "These are they which testify of Me" (John 5).

We recently studied the story from Mark 4, when Jesus stilled the storm for the fearful disciples whose boat was going down. The moral of that story is usually that God is more powerful than the storm. When Pastor teaches in Didache, his main point is that Jesus mercifully rescues those who have "no faith" and are accusing Him of not caring about them.

But there's something else too. Remember how Jesus went to the synagogue in Nazareth and preached from Isaiah (Luke 4) about the things the messiah would do? Remember how Jesus responded to John the Baptist (Matthew 11) about how to know whether He was the messiah? The Old Testament says thus-and-such; Jesus does thus-and-such; there's a clue that He's the one. The blind see; the deaf hear; the lame walk; the poor have the gospel preached to them.

Look at Psalm 107. Yahweh the Lord commands and raises the stormy wind which lifts up the waves of the sea. The sailors' hearts melt because of the trouble when their boat is pitching on high waves. The men in the boat are at their wits' end, declares the psalmist. Then they cry out to the Lord in their trouble, and He brings them out of their distresses. He calms the storm so that its waves are still. Then they are glad because they are quiet. So He guides them to their desired haven.

What did Jesus DO?
That is precisely what Yahweh does.
He is the one whom the prophets foretold ... and He does more than just the "short list" from that passage in Isaiah.

Snow

Three dig-outs and counting.

This stuff is WAY lighter and easier to shovel than the Snow of Good Friday '08. (That was overwhelming: shovel, church, shovel, church, shovel, church, shovel. A memorable day.) I expect the light fluffiness, however, will mean we get to shovel the same snow multiple times when the winds start. ;-)

So does anybody besides us use an actual old-fashioned shovel instead of a snow blower or a plow?

A Wretched Scullery Maid

Matt Harrison writes in "A Little Book on Joy" regarding the paradox of the holiness of the Church even though Christendom is divided, full of sinners, with flawed leaders, and plagued by false doctrine:

This is at once disturbing and comforting.... It is comforting because --despite its outward appearance, despite the fact that there have been times in the history of the church when the pure teaching of the Gospel all but disappeared from the public confession of the Church and its practice-- nevertheless, the "gates of hell shall not prevail against it." The Church endures because Christ endures...." (page 164)



My pastor has an additional reason to explain the comfort found in the simultaneous aspects of the Church's holiness and her sinfulness.

I am a saint and sinner. If I expect a sinless Church, then what does it say about me who is not sinless? The holiness of the Church is an article of faith [as per the Creeds] and not something we see. As I learn to believe that, I learn to believe that my own holiness is an article of faith, a gift of God, a declaration that is true even when my experience is less-than-holy.

If God can call the Church "holy," then maybe He can call ME "holy" too.

Whatever God Pleases

The Lord is great.
Our Lord is above all gods.
Whatever the Lord pleases, He does,
in heaven and in earth,
in the seas and in all deep places. (Psalm 135:5-6)

God gets to do whatever He wants to do. He is the head honcho, the bigwig, the super guy who gets His way. Everything bends to what He wants.

If it were us, there would be maniacal, power-hungry laughter:
mwaaaa haaaa haaa haaa ha!

So ...
what does God want to do, since He can do whatever He wants?

It pleased the Lord to bruise Him;
He has put Him to grief.
When You make His soul an offering for sin,
He shall see His seed,
He shall prolong His days,
and the pleasure of the Lord shall prosper in His hand. (Isaiah 53)

His pleasure is not in the strength of the horse,
nor His delight in the legs of a man;
the Lord takes pleasure in those who fear Him,
who put their hope in His mercy. (Psalm 147)

Whatever He wants to do, He can do, eh?

No wonder God said "My thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways My ways."

Sick Maggie

Maggie has not been healthy since she first came down with that bad cold on December 14. The round of antibiotics seemed to have no effect on the coughing. And then she started throwing up. So we needed to get back to the doctor.

When we first moved here, two doctors came highly recommended. The one in town was not accepting new patients, so we went to the one 15 minutes away. We think he's great, but he just recently moved to a new office yet further away. So today we visited the doctor in town. Oh my goodness! He's wonderful too!

Maggie got on the scale today and my eyes about popped out. She's lost 17 pounds in the last three weeks. I guess that's what comes from not being able to keep any food down for five whole days.

Doctor first suspected asthmatic bronchitis. But when he heard her wheeze through a coughing spell, he wondered about whooping cough. So she is on antibiotics for germies, steroids for the inflammation in her lungs, an inhaler, and non-narcotic cough pearls (perles?). When the radiologist saw Mag's x-ray, he was concerned about a spot on her lung which might be pneumonia, but given the absence of fever, it's likely that the spot is from her collapsed lung following the surgery four years ago.

Things are improving. In the last several hours she has eaten a banana, a small bowl of applesauce, and two crackers! Whoo hooo! We're headed in the right direction! This is a big relief.

Sacrifices of Joy

In Psalm 27, David writes, "I will offer sacrifices of joy in His tabernacle."

What is that?

A sacrifice of joy? If it's joy, why is it a sacrifice? If it's a sacrifice, then what do we mean by the word "joy"? Why is singing a sacrifice?

Car Prices

Yesterday our mechanic suggested looking into the cost of leasing a car instead of buying. His point was that --with used-car prices so high-- it might be cheaper to lease a new & reliable vehicle than to buy used. He said with a leased vehicle, you have no maintenance costs; maintenance is the responsibility of the dealer. He said that people often object to leasing because you have nothing to keep at the end of the lease period. But he said if we buy a 10- or 12-yr-old car with 100,000 or 150,000 miles on it, we won't have anything to keep after five years either. He has a point.

I looked at our old maintenance records. Given the cost of buying our used vehicles (whether we bought gently used or very very used) it appears that we've been spending somewhere in the vicinity of $2000 per year for each car. That's the cosst of the car plus the maintenance and repairs (but not gas, oil, insurance, etc). I don't know if that's low or high compared to other people, but it gives me a guideline when I'm looking at used cars. If it's a $2000 car, can I expect to get a year out of it without maintenance costs? If it's a $4800 car, is it reasonable to expect it to hold out faithfully for another 3 years? If it's a $12,000 car, is it realistic to expect it to last a minimum of 8 years without repairs besides the necessary tires and brakes and belt-changes?

Not Much Progress

I'm nearly ready to give up on car shopping. We just can't bring ourselves to pay the going rate for a car that's 10 years old. We thought we'd found a pretty good deal on a 4-yr-old car; when our mechanic looked at it today, he said it was okay. Not good, not bad. He said we'd do much better to wait until spring when private-sale cars are more plentiful. The kind of used car that we want is a car that costs more than my parents' house did when they bought it. That just seems wrong.

Maggie is still sick. It's been six weeks now. After two weeks of confinement, she did go to church Sunday. She did go to Matt's grandpa's funeral today. The cough has lessened somewhat (especially when she's careful to keep a scarf over her face when she's in cool or cold air), but the stomach problems have worsened. She's not able to eat.

Nathan has put together the new computer parts. I need to install my old programs, figure out how to work the new operating system, make sure the old files (emails, documents, etc) are restored where I can find them and use them, learn about security measures on the new machine. Overwhelming at the moment! Easier (for the most part) to keep using Gary's machine.

Going to a Catholic funeral (where the priest commented favorably on the deceased's pride) sure does make me love my pastor all the more. Y'know, I don't think the priest believes in the resurrection of the body. He kept talking about the soul being raised to be with Jesus in heaven. Not once in the whole hour-long service was there any mention that Matt's grandpa's body would be resurrected from death to eternal life. This morning, the priest preached how grandpa's good deeds would cause God to open heaven to him. This evening, my pastor catechized on Mark 4 (the stilling of the storm) and how Jesus saved those unbelieving disciples who accused Him of not loving, not caring. My pastor spoke of a Lord who forgives those who are weak, who heals those who have no goodness of their own, who saves those who aren't "good Christians." My pastor talked about how we come to despair of ourselves and our goodness so that we cling to Jesus' goodness, His atonement, His works and worth. It is good to be a Lutheran; it is good to know that the Lord does for me what I cannot in any way do for myself; it is my only hope.

Today's Laugh

Two men have been sitting out on a lake all day long, ice fishing. One has been having no luck at all, while the other has been pulling fish after fish out of his hole in the ice. The man having no luck finally leans over and asks the other what his secrect is.

"Mmmmm mmm mm mmm mmmm mmm mmm."

"I'm sorry, what did you say?"

The successful fisherman replied, "Mmmmm mmm mm mmm mmmm mmm mmm."

"I'm sorry, I still didn't understand you."

His companion spits something into his hand. "You've got to keep your worms warm."

Naughty Kitty

Rosie has been on a cord-chewing spree along with her let's-intimidate-Athena quest. This morning I found the answering machine dead. She chewed through the electrical cord on it. I'm not having much luck finding a replacement cord online. It's one thing to ruin the answering machine, but another thing entirely when I'm trying to make arrangements to meet people about car possibilities and car shopping. I'm about ready to banish the cat to the outdoors for the next couple of months. We can't afford to have her ruining phones and headphones and radios and computers!!

Shopping for a Used Car

Now that I have a couple of appointments lined up to see and test-drive some cars, all sorts of safety issues are running through my mind. Meeting strangers that you contact via the internet or telephone? Going for a drive in a car with a stranger? (After all, why should they let me --a stranger-- take off in their car for a test-drive?) Is their car-title clean and clear? What if the person says "cash only"? I mean, the guy may not want to risk a counterfeit bank-check, but do I want to walk around with that much cash (especially when meeting a stranger)?

I'm getting nervous. I'm even thinking about going to a dealer and paying more.

Missing Symposium

I knew I'd have to stay home from Fort Wayne this week because of my job. (I'm so glad Jane and Colin came here to visit earlier this month!) But then Pastor had to miss the week. And now Deacon is ill and cannot head to Fort Wayne either. I can't remember the last time there was no CCA booth at symposium; when Deacon couldn't go, I was always able to sub for him. Bummers.

Been Busy

Phew -- it's not pneumonia or bronchitis. Just a sinus infection. Maggie has been sick for four weeks. No fever the whole time. But it definitely took a turn for the worse this week! Saw the doctor last night, and I'm now thinking that if I'd been home to nag her into using the neti-pot multiple times daily (or if she'd been responsible about using it as I told her to) (or if I hadn't assumed that she obeyed when I did nag her) this wouldn't have developed into the sinus infection. She has plans to do better today. She also has drugs in case it's bacterial. The coughing has been unbelievable, but yesterday was a wee bit better than Wednesday, so I hope we're headed in the right direction.

My drawer has been balancing at work. Hooray! Making fewer mistakes. I still feel bad for the customers who come to me with transactions that I'm not 'smooth with' yet, so that they have a sloooow teller. Some of them are fine with it; others get a tad impatient. But I foresee a day when I will no longer be struggling. I don't know how far away that day is, but there's a light at the end of the tunnel somewhere.

Computer parts have arrived. I hope when the new computer (motherboard and processor) is put together with the old appendages (hard drive, video card, etc) we find that I haven't lost too many functional pieces and that my documents and photos are still there. I did back-up (woo hoo!) the week before the computer was fried, but it would be nice if I didn't have to go to the trouble to restore everything.

Andrew and I haven't had clashing work schedules since the car died, so he's only had to chauffeur me to work one day so far. I wonder how long we'll continue to luck into this?

Naughty kitty has been chewing through cords again. What IS it with her? She destroyed Andrew's phone charger two days ago, and she chewed through Gary's headphone cord yesterday.

On the final stretch of editing Catechist edition. I discovered yesterday (on my second pass over some devotional material) that I am not so thorough with my proofreading on my lunch breaks at work as I should be. I can't be as good a proofreader when I'm reading with my eyes alone instead of while my mouth is reading the sentences aloud. Theology is supposed to be oral/aural, isn't it?

Off to shovel snow and put supper in the crockpot before work. Looking forward to a healthy kid, a repaired computer, a car for Andrew --and thus a less hectic life-- in another couple of weeks!

OUR Father

At Didache last night, Pastor said something he's said a gazillion times before. But I never remember it until he's in the midst of bringing it up in class again.

When we pray "Our Father who art in heaven," the "our" does not refer merely to all us Christians throughout the whole world and throughout all history, joined in prayer. It refers also (and especially) to the Father being Jesus' Father and our Father.



So when we pray the Lord's Prayer, why don't I ever think of that?

Today's Laugh

Sign seen today outside a church:

Bi-lingual Pentecostal services.

(C'mon. Think about that...)

Not Much ...

Nothing has been done toward car shopping or computer replacement. That's a little stressful.

Lots of editing to cram in this week and next.

Went to the company Christmas party today so that Gary could meet the people I work with, the ones who trained me, and the people who were in training with me. Tasty brunch. Pleasant enough company. But staying for second service (with choir) would have been far more refreshing and comforting.

Maggie's EKG on Thursday (her annual cardiology check-up) showed up some quirks. She came home from the appt on the 24-hour heart monitor. Waiting to hear results. Doctor also suggested we contact our family doctor to put us in contact with an immunologist. Maggie hasn't seen an immunologist since she was about 18 months old, and the results then were inconclusive. We realized Thursday evening that her apparent improvement in immune function in her early teens was probably not actual improvement but less exposure to germs; since she joined the academy's choir in Sept 09 she has suffered more illness.

I have a long way to go to become decent at my new job, but at least I'm making headway.

Yesterday's haircut revealed that my recent bad-hair days are not due to excessive length, but due to texture changes and far too much hair loss over the last couple of months.

Back to editing ...

Failing Mechanics

The new year isn't going as happily as people were wishing me last week.

Rachel, Oz has died. Probably our biggest mistake of 2010 was trying to resurrect a 13-yr-old Corolla whose engine had cracked. Putting a different engine in a car with more than a quarter-million miles is not a good plan. I meet the junk man this afternoon to turn over her title and collect enough money from him to pay for yesterday's tow-truck.

My computer was fried yesterday. One tiny little repair/improvement resulted in a crash which means I need a new computer -- or that I at least need a new motherboard and processor and power source and operating system. My sons (of the Nerd Herd) are looking into it for me, and they think many pieces of my current [but deceased] computer can be used in the new computer. Main point of this paragraph (besides the whining) is that, if you need to contact me, you should do it via gmail instead of my usual email address if possible.

I have tons of work to do, especially editing, but right now I have very little ability to concentrate when my brain keeps drifting to "Where am I going to find a car?"

So now the question is, "What is going to happen next?"

Commas with Adjectives

Coordinate adjectives.

I know the rule to use a comma between words in a series. For example, When the child lost his marbles, his Matchbox cars, and his pet snake, the mother lost her marbles. Or Obama promised to pay for my groceries, my rent, and my utilities.

But there are adjectives that may not be equal in importance and therefore should not have commas ... because the words aren't really in a series. For example, The exuberant golden retriever chased the bone under the table. Or The lovely, fashionable Bethany picked up a Wisconsin accent this week. Or Some of the new LSB hymns we sang last year were very good. Or The decrepit, rattle-trap, slow-as-molasses computer makes me scream.

IF you can switch the order of the adjectives,
IF you can put an and between the adjectives,
THEN you use a comma. "The fashionable and lovely Bethany" or "the decrepit and rattle-trap computer."

But if you can't toss in an and, if you can't switch the order of the adjectives, then your words are not "coordinate adjectives" and ought not have the comma. The golden and exuberant retriever? The LSB and new hymns? Nope!


I usually have a good sense of how to employ the commas in these situations, but I've always been a little unsettled because I Learned The Rule in grade school and didn't learn the exceptions. So here's the qualifier for when the comma rule is and is not employed with multiple adjectives. And thus ends my grammar note to myself.

Grungy Grates on the Stovetop

Lesson #1. If you're going to bother turning on the Self-Cleaning feature on the stove, do it for the highest, most intense, longest setting available. The stove is always dirtier than you thought it was.

Lesson #2. The cast-iron grates on my gas stovetop were getting icky. I'd wiped them and washed them, but they were still icky with baked-on spill-overs. I stacked them in the oven while I was cleaning it, and the grates baked clean, quite nicely. Hot dog!

Philip and Tapco on TV

Mom, you're going to want to see this clip!

I Must Be a Grandma

I don't care if the ornaments are clustered in one spot on the tree. I don't care if there are big bare spots. That unevenness is simply evidence that Somebody was here, taking ornaments off the tree, playing with them, making Pooh and Piglet talk to the fireman and the Santa. And that's a happy thing!

Chocolate in the Socks

Lesson learned on Christmas afternoon (the very firstest Christmas in which we hung our socks by the fireplace):

If you want to start a fire for a cozy atmosphere, either
a) remove the socks from their hooks, or
b) remove the chocolate from the socks.

Yup. It's a plan that we shan't forget next year.

Post-Christmas Sale

Sign on the door of the hardware store today:

50% off all Christmas merchandise
Christmas lights
Christmas trees
inflatable snowmen
Santa heads

I giggled as I walked in.
I giggled as I requested the bill for my solar salt.
I asked about the Santa heads.
The clerk was new; I'd never seen her before; she was not amused; she explained what "Santa heads" were and where they were located; she told me these were the heads that you would stick on a light post.
And then I thought it was even more hilariously warped and sick.
When I told the family at supper about the sign at Ace Hardware, they started dreaming up Halloween scenarios of Santa heads on pikes (aka, light posts) all around the front yard. Talk about scarring little children for life... !


Now that I try looking up "Santa heads" online in various places to provide a link, I'm not finding such a thing. I'm wondering if the guys were pulling a fast one on the new clerk.

A Picture of Heaven

Sunday morning. Feast of Stephen, so the nights are still long and the days brief. 6:30, an hour before sun-up on a cloudy day, so the dark of night is not yet banished.

The world is quiet. The whole way to church at this early hour, I see only one other vehicle, and that one is a couple of blocks away on a side street. The businesses are darkened. The windows in the homes are dark; not a creature is stirring, not even a mouse.

I approach the church driveway and look back across the lawn and see the building lit. Light floods from the windows. The church shines, surrounded by darkness. In Him was life, and the life was the light of men. In that building is the voice that absolves sinners. In that building is the altar, the mercyseat, the place of God's saving presence, where the body of the King of the Universe gives life, where the angels singing with all His saints unite.

Here is Jesus' manger. Here is heaven.




I wish I'd had my camera. I would have traipsed out to the street (even in the cold) and snapped a photo to capture that icon someplace a little more reliable than just my memory.


Yet, in thy dark streets shineth
the everlasting light.
The hopes and fears of all the years
are met in thee tonight.

Sweet 16

Julie arranged this awesome bow to adorn Maggie's birthday present. She took thin ribbon and threaded 8 long pieces through a store-bought bow and then stapled the ribbons to anchor them into the center of the bow. Then she tied sugar cubes onto the ends of the ribbons. Isn't that just the cutest thing you ever saw?!!!

Hugging

You're "supposed" to hug your kids and tell them you love them. I never did that as much as I should have. When we moved here, and I would see Pastor hug his wife and sons so often at church, I would sometimes feel guilty for not being more demonstrative with my affection for my family.

Then I started the job.
I wasn't home as often.

Now I am driven to hug them more. During my two weeks of training at the nearby branch, I came home from lunch and hugged the kids. When I got to church on Wednesday night for Advent services (coming straight to church from work) I would hug the kids and Gary.

When those absences from your dear ones are forced upon you, maybe that's what makes you more huggy.

Sheep and Shepherds

The last line of the Venite (Psalm 95) says that we are "the people of His pasture and the sheep of His hand." I don't know about you, but I tend to think of a pasture as a place for sheep, not for people. I've been pondering on the oddness of "people of His pasture" for a few months. I think Pastor accidentally answered it for me during last Sunday's Bible class.

We were studying Luke 2. The shepherds heard from the angels. They went to Bethlehem to see this thing which had come to pass. And they blabbed it all over the place! They told! They couldn't hold in the joy of the news that the Messiah had come to save sinners! "Behold the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world."

But the Apostle John not only points out Jesus, the Lamb; he also is the one who records Jesus' discourse on the Good Shepherd. Jesus is both the Lamb and the Good Shepherd. Our pastors are shepherds, but they are also Jesus' lambs. Same for us: "I am Jesus' little lamb; ever glad at heart I am...." Still, we (like the shepherds) tell our children and our friends and our neighbors about the Good Shepherd. If Jesus is both Lamb and Shepherd, we who are joined to Him would also be both lambs and shepherds.

And maybe that explains the line in the Venite.


Like shepherds who have heard the angel's preaching, let us go now even unto Bethlehem (the House of Bread) and sing the [tweaked] Easter hymn:
Then let us feast this [Christmas] day
on Christ, the bread of heaven.
The Word of grace has purged away
the old and evil leaven.
Christ our Lord our souls will feed;
He is our meat and drink indeed.
Faith lives upon no other. Alleluia!

Today's Laugh

Philip was telling us today that Matt (who is a doctor) has a t-shirt that says "Trust me, I'm a doctor." We looked up a picture, and this is what we found.

(You have to be pretty geeky to get this, but some of us are highly amused!)

Today's Laugh

A man went to his dentist because he felt something wrong in his mouth. The dentist examined him and said, "That new upper plate I put in for you six months ago is eroding. What have you been eating?"

The man replied, Aall I can think of is that about four months ago my wife made some asparagus and put some stuff on it that was delicious ... Hollandaise sauce. I loved it so much I now put it on everything — meat, toast, fish, vegetables, everything."

"Well," said the dentist, "that's probably the problem. Hollandaise sauce is made with lots of lemon juice, which is highly corrosive. It's eaten away your upper plate. I'll make you a new plate, and this time I'll use chrome."

"Why chrome?" asked the patient.

The dentist replied, "It's simple. Everyone knows that there's no plate like chrome for the Hollandaise!"