Ball Game

So I didn't get around to posting these two months ago when they were new. No surprise there! One of the outings we took for our wedding anniversary was to the Cardinals game. Of course, everybody else in the stadium thought it was a Brewers game. I was worried that the dude sitting next to me would get beaten up by rabid fans. But the only "attacks" were people shushing Gary's cheering.


Because the traffic is so bad, and because we had so much fun tailgating the previous year with Michael and Krissy, we figured it would be a good plan to go early. But we don't have a portable grill. And I'm just not adventuresome enough to figure out a Proper Tailgate Picnic. So I did what any normal nutrition-weirdo would do. I took regular food. Well, regular for us. So here's the picture of me sitting in the parking lot of Miller Park, eating my African peanut soup out of a thermos. Bratwurst? Not that night. Sub sandwiches? Not then. Potato chips? No. Beer? One, plus a kombucha.

And what's weirder? My husband liked his African peanut soup in the parking lot, even when he was surrounded by smoke wafting off of grills full of brats and burgers.

Horcrux

Don't bother reading this unless you've read Harry Potter and know what a horcrux is.

My son mentioned recently that it's almost like we are horcruxes. We have this sinful nature. Jesus said (in John 8) to the Pharisees, "You are of your father the devil." The devil and sin won't be done until all our sinful natures are dead and buried at the end of the world, when all the "horcruxes" are finally destroyed.

Bearing Fruit for Jesus

EC has an excellent description. Things that seem obvious in the garden don't seem so obvious when Jesus goes and uses the example to describe faith. But it really shouldn't be as tricky as we make it; we DO understand how fruit works in the garden.

Thought Paralysis

You know how you're at a loss of "What next??" after you finish a big project? I've noticed that, since I started my part-time job, I've lost a lot of ability to keep myself going with the homemaking. Some jobs (like being a mom) allow for lots of self-determination with regard to priorities and schedules and methods. But other jobs (like being a bank teller) are quite set, and there's very little to decide for yourself about how the job will be done; you do the work the way the boss tells you to do it.

I'm finding, though, that this affects how I think. Being told what to do and how to do it at the bank makes it much harder to arrange my work at home and have the motivation to dive in and do it. On my days off, I struggle to figure out which pressing task is the most important. Sometimes it's easier to bail and not do anything. (Not a good solution!)

This makes me wonder about kids. Does this have something to do with the motivation of homeschooled kids, particularly unschooled ones? Is this why people who are accustomed to conventional schools --with teachers calling all the shots-- simply cannot comprehend how homeschooled kids could arrange their own study lives and dive in to learn all sorts of things, even when nobody is cracking the whip over their heads?

So I had a couple of days in a row without being scheduled at my job. Saturday afternoon we babysat the grandkids. Sunday morning was church, and Sunday afternoon was talking to Philip. Monday was ... well ... what would Monday be? Cleaning? Cooking? Errands? Baking bread? Laundry? Yard work? Or attacking multitudes of little tasks on the to-do list? How would I ever decide? It all is important and needs to be done soon.

And the paralysis sets in.

Luckily though (??? did I just say "luckily"???) when I arrived home from chapel and some brief errands, the cat had made the decision for me. Rosie went in search of water, jumping up on the kitchen counter (a major no-no), tipping over a pitcher of water, and knocking stuff around while lapping up the water. A big splash of sweet-tea concentrate hit the floor (and under the stove and the vent above the stove and the counters).

Guess what? I spent a much of today cleaning the kitchen.

I think it would be good if I chose for myself how to spend my next day at home instead of depending upon the cat's prompting.

Alia

Because it's too funny to let some of my friends miss, I need to post a couple of stories that Katie's told about my granddaughter recently.


Alia's ballerina dog just said (by way of Alia's mouth) the whole close of the commandments with one "minor" alteration. "I the lord your dog am a jealous dog...

- - - - - - - - - -

The joys of Alia are innumerable. Today's bit of awesome: crooning a love song... to a piece of cold pizza.

- - - - - - - - - -

And the serious one, as she was pretending church and communion -- "Drink the blood of peace; now you are part of Jesus. Eat the bread that is Jesus for your peace. Forever and ever. Amen."

One of the Best Articles I've Seen on Raising Kids

Don't let the website address for this article put you off. It's a very long article, but it addresses a common struggle -- especially among homeschoolers. How do parents balance their training of a child with their unconditional love for the child? And does the message of that unconditional love of the parents actually get through to the kid?

The same problem pops up frequently in information put out for parents of special needs kids. The social workers and nurses keep telling the parents to love their child, not to treat them according to their disability. And yet, everything you run into from doctors and therapists and teachers is that the child is a project. A project to be conquered, to be tweaked, to be perfected insofar as can be done. But the child isn't a project. The child is a person. A person made in the image of God. A person who has strengths and weaknesses, joys and sorrows, just like all the rest of us.

The article isn't perfect. But the author is at least heading in the right direction.

They Couldn't Do It

This week and next we are praying the Third Article of the Creed:

I believe that I cannot
by my own reason or strength
believe in Jesus Christ my Lord
or come to Him.
But the Holy Ghost has called me by the Gospel...

One of our Bible stories this week was about the end of Joshua's life (chapter 24). Joshua preaches to the people all that God has done to save them, to rescue them, to defeat their enemies. Joshua asks them to choose whether they'll serve the Lord or all those other gods of the Egyptians and/or the Canaanites. The Israelites respond, "We're gonna serve Him." But Joshua tells them, "You cannot serve the Lord."

What?

Pastor pointed out in chapel how this dovetails with the Creed this week: "I believe that I cannot."

We cannot. We have no ability to trust. We have no strength to serve. But nevertheless, the Holy Spirit calls us, enlightens us, sanctifies us. He does in us and for us what we cannot do ourselves.

Pumpkin Pie

I've been disappointed in the pumpkin pies I've been making. They're good. But they're not awesome. Some were made with pumpkin I baked; some were made with canned pumpkin. I think I've decided that butternut squash is where it's at. When I use butternut squash for the "pumpkin" pie, then we're talking exquisite yumminess!

Witnessing

There was a discussion recently about how people out there in the post-modern Real World (TM) respond to Christians. One of the pastors said something quite wise:

People will react more honestly to "Christianity displayed as important to you than promoted as important for them."

Sanctification

We run into it all the time: people telling us what we need to do to make ourselves holier. But look what it says in the Small Catechism.

(Luther's little expositions are so rich and full that sometimes we are overwhelmed by all that he's saying and don't catch the simplest things. So I'm going to leave out some of the verbs and subordinate clauses and prepositional phrases.)

I believe that I cannot ... but the Holy Ghost has ... sanctified ... me .... In the same way He ... sanctifies the whole Christian Church.

Who sanctifies? Not me. I cannot. But He does.

Naming Nature

Could you possibly be as clueless as I was back a few years ago? I could identify cardinals and robins. I knew what dandelions were. But naming a tree? Not likely. Wildflowers? Ha!

Mary Blocksma was clueless too. She wanted to start learning about the nature around her. This book is her diary. It not only documents the birds and trees and grasses and flowers she learns about, but her journey demonstrates to the reader how to learn more about nature. It's perfect for those of us in Michigan, Wisconsin, and northern Indiana, because the climate and geographical location is perfect for what we're experiencing along with the author.

Reading this book was one of my favorite homeschool projects. The book begins on January 1, so now is the time to buy yourself an el-cheapo copy of the book. Then you'll be all ready to spend a whoppin' 5-10 minutes a day with a tiny dose of nature study. It's so encouraging and empowering to read a nature book by someone who's not an expert, but who is a plain old normal dummy but is undumbifying teaching herself. I caught the bug that year and spent the summer ID-ing a lot of wildflowers (aka, weeds). After getting our feet wet, we turned around the next year and re-read the book. We've read it periodically. I think this January would be a great time to reprise it.

The Distant Triumph Song

I've been dawdling on blogging about a line in "For All the Saints." And now I don't have to. I'll just link to my call-in comment to Issues Etc. Hee hee hee -- Todd liked what I echoed from Pastor, and so I won the prize for best comment. Woo hoo!

I suppose I really ought to share my prize with Pastor. We'll see.



(I'm just a smidge past the halfway mark on the recording.)

The Trouble with Angels

Gary found the movie The Trouble with Angels available on Netflix instant-play. I was working in the kitchen and overhearing bits and pieces of this story from the mid-60s. Pretty soon, I was drawn to sit down with him and watch. The basic story is a couple of somewhat troublesome girls attending a Catholic boarding school. What a great movie! Funny. Sweet. Not offensive in any way, shape, or form. It even included a theme about giving oneself to others. But primarily it was just plain funny! Definitely worth watching!

This one is something my mom would freely enjoy if it showed up at the library or a video store. And if you're a person with munchkins, don't let the PG rating throw you off. All we could figure was that a scene with the girls hiding and smoking cigars bumped the movie from a G to a PG.

If you liked Beverly Cleary's Ramona, you'll like this.

Starting the Morning ...

... with another flat tire. Last month we picked up a nail in one tire of the van. Today Gary noticed another flat on the van. This time the culprit was a screw. Hey, at least it was a different tire. There's also a slow leak on another tire of the van. Thankfully we could pump up the flat and drive it to town for a new tire. So much for the errands I'd planned to do today.

But on the up-side ... I found socks. The most expensive socks I ever bought! But they're wool. And they're men's toe-socks. Who would've thought that toe-socks would be sold in Bigfoot's men's size? Now I'll have something to keep my feet warm while still allowing me to wear the orthotic flipflops which keep the shoe-pain at bay. Woo hoo! (I'm telling myself that this is a medical expense and not an outrageous clothing purchase. That makes it easier to endure the price on these things.)

Now off to make bread.

We Just Want to Thank You ...

A friend mentioned something this morning that he'd heard on Issues Etc recently. When we begin our prayers with "I just wanna" ask God something, it indicates a belief that God is miserly. We don't want to ask anything big. We're just going to trouble Him with a small, not-too-inconvenient request.

"Honey, on our way home, can we stop at Piggly Wiggly? I just wanna grab a bunch of bananas." I wouldn't begin my request to Gary with "I just wanna" if I were planning to be in there for 55 minutes loading up on the sales and making sure we have the entire week's groceries purchased.

Look at the collect for the 11th Sunday after Trinity (also used recently in the three-year series): Almighty and everlasting God, always more ready to hear than we to pray, and to give more than we either desire or deserve, pour down upon us the abundance of Your mercy, forgiving us those things of which our conscience is afraid, and giving us those good things which we are not worthy to ask but through the merits and mediation of Jesus Christ.

Stuff

We need to take in one of the cars under a recall notice. The dealers are far enough away that it's been too inconvenient to bother with yet.

I did a lot more tree trimming today, getting those branches away from the phone & electric wires. There are still branches out there, near enough the lines that I'm not touching them. But the more clutter I can get out of the way now, the shorter the time we'll have to disconnect the power when we finally get rid of those branches. Right now, my hair is full of sawdust and every now and then I taste a piece of wood.

Some of us have been fighting colds. Sometimes a person is just tireder than seems reasonable. When the people around me are snotty and coughing, and I'm tired, I figure I shouldn't doggedly plow ahead on my to-do list, but just be a lazy-daisy.

We're looking into refinancing the house. Paperwork -- ugh! Prospect of a shorter mortgage -- hooray!

I spent way too much time on the computer this week. Can I at least give myself brownie-points for having less addiction to Facebook now?

I luv-luv-luv that there is a new Aldi, and it's kitty-corner from work. So handy!!

I've been working extra days recently because we lost an employee to a promotion at another branch and because several co-workers are getting in their last vacation days before the end of the year. Being gone more makes it harder to be diligent with keeping up at home when I am home.

Maggie is joining the girls at church (most of whom graduated from the parochial school) for a book club with the headmistress. They're reading Ivanhoe. Ivanhoe?! Yikes. We're not going for easy here, are we? So my plan is to read it with her. First we read the Wiki-synopsis. Then we read a kiddie-version of a picture book. We could (?) step up to an abridged version, but instead we decided to dive in. Boy, did I procrastinate on that: it scared me. But we got through chapter 1 yesterday. Right now I am procrastinating on starting chapter 2. Somebody recommended a miniseries that's supposed to be very good. We'll throw that into the hopper too.

Funerals are such lovely opportunities for a pastor to preach the sweet Gospel to people who seldom care to cross the doorstep of a church.

A Sign from God

from class last night:

It is wrong to pray for a sign from God when He has spoken to the issue clearly in His Word. "Give me a sign if I should leave my wife who hates me and hang out with my secretary who is understanding and kind." "Give me a sign if I should have an abortion or keep this baby conceived in my sinful lusts." "Give me a sign if it's okay to take that money from my neighbor who doesn't need it as badly as I do."

After all, the devil can provide a sign too.

Meal Plans

~ roast chicken, lettuce salad, pumpkin pie
~ baked beans, fresh pineapple
~ enchilada soup, cranberry muffins
~ lasagna, lettuce salad
~ beef stew
~ crab & rotini (with California blend, parmesan, and garlic)
~ chicken, corn, black beans, over Mexican-seasoned rice
~ teriyaki chicken & rice
~ hamburgers
~ lentil soup
~ stir fry veggies and pork


Hmm. Gary's going to think there's too much rice in this line-up.

Reformation

Salvation free by faith in Thee,
that is Thy Gospel's preaching,
the heart and core of Bible-lore
in all its sacred teaching.
In Christ we must put all our trust,
not in our deeds or labor;
with conscience pure and heart secure
love Thee, Lord, and our neighbor. (TLH 266:2)

Holiness

Is holiness seen in God's sinlessness, His purity, His perfection?

Or is holiness seen in His willingness to be made the sinner, taking our sin as His own?

Maybe holiness is not in the purity but in the dirtiness ... because it's not His own dirtiness but ours that has been imputed to Him.