What Grandpa Gave Grandma

My maternal grandfather was an interesting character, and I loved him tremendously.  We had a special bond, and I felt his loss keenly when he passed away.  I was not quite 12 at the time.  I have many fond memories, but one that always makes me chuckle is the memory of a Christmas gift he gave to Grandma one year.

Grandpa and Grandma had purchased a new car just before Christmas and had agreed that it would be their gift to each other. Grandma had never learned to drive, but this did not prevent her from offering advice, criticizing Grandpa’s driving, and hollering, “Frank!  Look out!” frequently.

When the whole family was gathered at Christmas, Grandpa presented her with a wrapped package.  She protested, “Frank, we said we weren’t giving each other gifts this year.”

He smiled and said, “I know…just open it.”

She unwrapped the package and opened the box to discover half a car.  He had sawed a toy car in two parts front to back and presented her with half.

As she removed it from the box, he said, slyly, “You will notice which half it is.”

It was, of course, the passenger side.

That gift was a joke, but he gave her “gifts” on a regular basis that were not jokes.

Grandma had trouble with her legs…lots of vascular problems:  phlebitis, clots, and sometimes even ulcerations.  Grandpa saw to it that she never had to scrub a floor.  He always did that job, preventing her from having to get down on her knees.

When the family gathered for dinners, which happened not only on holidays, but many Sundays, Grandpa would appear in the kitchen after the meal.  He would stack all the pots, pans and difficult to wash cooking utensils in the roasting pan and disappear to the basement.  The women were left with the silver, glassware and china, while he scrubbed the most difficult things in the stationary tubs downstairs.

These acts of love were not just a gift to Grandma, they were a gift to the whole family, as he modeled what a man should be.  I know young men that think masculinity is defined by their muscles or sexual prowess.  They take off, leaving young women to raise the children they have so carelessly fathered.  What a contrast to my beloved Grandfather who understood that loving a woman means tender care and self sacrifice.

I often say that my Grandfather was a prince.

Coal in My Stocking

Do you know of someone who actually got coal in their Christmas stocking?  If you know me, you do.

When I was little, the items in the stocking were treasured almost as much as larger gifts under the tree.  Fresh fruit was not plentiful in winter, and what was available was too expensive for our family with one breadwinner who was a blue-collar worker.  My stocking always contained at least one orange….a real treat.  There were also chocolates wrapped in foil and nuts in the shell waiting to be cracked.  Sometimes a small toy might be tucked in also.

The joy of items in my stocking was not in my mind when I learned to use scissors.  I believe I must have been 3 and a half, as I started school at the age of 4 years, 4 months and I am fairly certain my scissors misdeeds were a result of being on the loose without enough to keep my mind busy.  I started school at that early age, because I was driving my mother crazy.  The scissors episodes were probably part of the reason she felt like her sanity was teetering on the edge.

There were three scissors infractions, and I only remember two of them.  An aunt had hand-knit a skirt for me, and I hacked a triangular hole in it.  I had no appreciation for the hours of work I destroyed. I don’t remember taking any particular delight in that, but I do remember the fascination I felt cutting the chenille off my mother’s lovely bedspread.  The classic design at the time was wave-like curves running horizontally as the bedspread hung over the edge of the bed.  Cutting along these curves was a challenge and in my little mind was just plain fun!  I still remember sitting on the floor next to my parents’ bed snipping along the wavy lines and feeling pleased with my scissors skills.  It actually didn’t occur to me I was doing anything wrong, until my mother came in and expressed her shock and dismay.

Unfortunately, these incidents were not long before Christmas.  As I excitedly slid my hand into my stocking on Christmas morning I found a brown paper sack containing coal…..no candy, no nuts, no toys and no orange….just yucky black coal.

I was furious.  I stomped to the cellar door and down the stairs.  My Dad came along and opened the furnace door for me.  I pitched the bag of coal into the furnace and stomped back up the stairs.  I have no recollection of what Santa had left under the tree for me that year.  All I remember was the coal and the rage I felt.

I don’t really think it was effective in improving my behavior.  My mother once told me that I was her most difficult child before I started school and her easiest child once I started school.  The coal didn’t help, but keeping my mind busy productively did.  Learning to read opened up a whole world of fascinating adventure….no scissors required.

The Coolest Old Lady...Not

This morning I was waiting for my grandson in a parking lot across from the DMV when I realized I was right in front of a dollar store.  I had been told that this dollar store carried inexpensive marijuana test kits, and I knew someone who wanted one to make sure he/she was clean before applying for a job.

I have purchased drug test kits in drug stores previously.  When I was affiliated with a Christian maternity home, I was designated to check the residents when they were admitted to the home and spot check after that.  I had never used one of the cheap dollar store variety that only checks for pot.  I had to ask where to find the kits.  This made the staff in the store aware of my purchase.

When I came to the check-out, two of the staff got in a discussion as to whether these inexpensive kits were accurate.  This caused a third staff person who was working on a computer with his back turned to me to turn around and look at me.

He said in a surprised tone, “Is that for you?!”

I replied that I was getting it for someone else.

Sounding disappointed he said, “If that was for you, I was going to tell you that you are the coolest old lady I have ever met.”

I told him that I guess I wasn’t cool.

One of the other guys behind the counter then launched into a monologue about his mother (probably a little old lady like me) who had anxiety issues, and her medication stopped working so she now uses pot and it mellows her right out.

I told him that I have a bathtub full of warm water for that purpose.

I can think of lots of other responses I could have made to this discussion….including a self-righteous sermon.

 

I also think it is possible that I am the coolest old lady he has ever met….just not for the reasons he thinks make an old lady “cool.”

So instead of lecturing, I walked away chuckling.

Playing the Wedding March....in absentia

I am sort of a 5^th string pianist.  I took piano lessons for years as a child and advanced rather well.  My big accomplishment was Claire de Lune which I played at the last piano recital I attended.  I was about 15 when I stopped taking lessons.  I was, for the next 40 years, primarily a vocalist.  I played piano for my own enjoyment and to accompany myself when practicing to sing a solo or duet.  I was only pressed into service as a pianist at church on rare occasions when the first string players were out of town.

I did, however, once play for a wedding….in absentia.

It was a warm summer day, and I was hot and sweaty from working outside when the phone rang.  A friend, sounding desperate, asked if I had the music for the wedding march and could play it.  I responded pretty hesitantly, that I had it, but wasn’t a great pianist.  She explained that a couple was scheduled to be married at her church in one hour, and the pianist was suddenly unavailable.  I don’t remember why.

I told her that I was a mess, and there was no way, I could clean myself up in time and get there.  She asked if I could come over immediately and play it.  They had an electric piano, and she could record me playing it and play it back for the bride to walk down the aisle.

I drove over to the church, which was just on the other side of our small city, just as I was in shorts, T-shirt and dirty from yardwork.  She set the electric piano to record, and I did my best.  It was probably better than I would have done in person, because I always got nervous playing in front of people, and I was playing to an empty church.

My friend was extremely grateful.  I never met the couple.  I don’t even remember their names.

I was wondering as I brushed my teeth this morning, who they were, and if the marriage lasted.

Driving in the Snow...an Adventure

We had about 6 inches of snow in the past 24 hours, and as I did a bit of slipping around on the roads, I was thinking about an experience I had in the late 70s.

My brother was in college and was in a musical group that was going to perform at a small church in East Pitcairn, New York, which is right at the edge of the Adirondack Park…very rural and isolated…the middle of nowhere.  My mother wanted to go to the concert, and for reasons I don’t remember now, I was the only person available to take her.

It was January or February, and we had had considerable snow that year.  I had been in the area during the summer a couple of years earlier when I had been the nurse for a Girl Scout Camp, so I was fairly confident I would recognize the turn-off to East Pitcairn.  However, having a mental picture of the location in the summer and in the winter are two decidedly different things.  The mountains of snow had covered some of the signs and landmarks I had in mind.

We drove back and forth on the main highway multiple times unable to find the road.  Finally, my mother exclaimed, “There it is!”  She pointed to a pole which had a typical street sign reading East Pitcairn.  This was not the big green road sign and arrow I had pictured.  But, it did say “East Pitcairn,” and the road was plowed, and there were houses visible at the beginning of the road, so off we went.

We were not very far along, when we came over the crest of a hill and the plowing stopped.  I tried to back up, but the hill was so slippery that I couldn’t manage it.  I noticed that although the road wasn’t plowed, there were visible tracks, so I told my mother, “Well, someone else has been through here so let’s give it a try.”

I had driven with my husband enough to know that you cannot slow down in deep snow.  You just have to blast through and attempt to control the fishtailing of the car.  My mother was gripping the sides of her seat and had stiffened her body out like a board.  I said to her, “You better be praying.”  She replied, “I am!  I am!”

I don’t know how far we traveled when I said, “We have come quite a way and haven’t seen a single house.  If there is nothing over the next hill, I will have to stop and walk back to one of the houses we saw at the beginning of the road.”

Thankfully, as we came over the next hill, we could see the church.  It was at the other side of a T-shaped intersection.  I blasted out of the next snowdrift onto ice and couldn’t stop the car.  I said, “There’s the church and we are going to drive right in!”  I shot through the intersection…fortunately nothing was coming….and skidded to a stop in the church parking lot.

A bit shaken, we entered the church and found the concert already in progress.  Our late arrival was obvious to the attendees. 

After the program, a local lady came up and inquired whether we had had difficulty finding it.  We said that we had.  She asked which way we had come.  When we explained our route, her jaw dropped.  “Oh, my dear,” she gasped, “that isn’t a road in the winter.  It’s a snow mobile trail.”

Mike Pence is No Dummy

Tonight, I listened to the evening news, and story after story was about men being accused of and fired for inappropriate behavior of a sexual nature.  This is just crazy!  Matt Lauer could lock his office door from the inside with a button on his desk?  Why did they allow him to have that installed?  Katie Couric commented years ago that he frequently “pinched her ass” but no one saw this as a problem?  They just paid him $25 million a year and looked the other way?

Lauer is just the latest in a lengthy list.  Something has caused the dam to break and release all the dirt collected and stored over years of indiscretion.  In the past, women have been coerced into silence by powerful men.  They have been unwilling to risk their careers to hold men accountable, and men have behaved like animals.  Women who have come forward have been disbelieved and/or labeled as sluts.

There is lots of blame to go around here.  The notion that we evolved from lower life forms, rather than being created by a God to whom we are responsible, is a factor.  We have abandoned the notion of moral absolutes.  Women being desperate to advance their careers and willing to do anything is a problem.  Unequal treatment of women so that they are placed in such a horrible spot is an issue.  Women not understanding that men are turned on visually, and that the way they dress contributes is a factor.  Women are not turned on visually the same way men are and pretty much ignore this difference.  Someone will read this and be furious with me for “blaming the victim.”  But, as I said, there is plenty of blame to go around.  Everything in society is oversexualized.  Sex is used to sell and promote an unbelievable array of products.  Our children are exposed to blatant sexuality during prime-time television and through the lyrics in music blaring in public places. 

We are living in a cesspool!  It takes superhuman strength and vigilance on the part of both men and women to maintain any semblance of sexual purity and propriety while swimming in filth.

A few months back Mike Pence was criticized for saying he would not have dinner alone with a woman.  He takes his wife along.  I believe I read that he also leaves the office door open when meeting with a woman.  Liberal women were howling that this would create a situation where women could not advance in their professions.  Baloney!  It creates a safe environment in which women can advance without having to pass out sexual favors.  If every man was careful not to allow himself to be in a compromising situation, and every woman was careful not to allow herself to be drawn into one, the possibility of these incidents would dramatically lessen.  Nor could false accusations be made, if there was always a witness.  Exercising such precautions protects both the man and the woman.

We women believe that we have made great strides toward equality of opportunity.  I wonder how much of this advancement has been purchased with silence about what powerful men have done.  It has become time to remove that factor from the equation.  It is actually way past time.  But, I don’t know how we can bring about genuine change as long as we allow ourselves to think that standing for morality means one is “intolerant” of the beliefs of others.  There are some things which should NOT BE TOLERATED.

From Sea to Shining Sea

We lift above the bay and its bridges,

Heading toward the mountains,

An irrigated valley visible

Between their north to south ridges.

Shrouded in clouds,

I doze and waken

To a gray and barren

Moonscape.

No one could live here!

Long ago volcanism made it so.

A few roads are scratched,

Into the chalkboard.

Frozen lakes lie between

Craggy peaks

With snow on the deep lines

Of their northern faces.

The rigid fierceness gives way

To hundreds of miles

Of cozy quilt, designed cooperatively

By man and nature.

At first man’s pattern

Consists of circles, semi-circles

And Pac-men gobbling tiny dots,

Buildings, I suppose.

Nature has contributed

Streams snaking along,

Drawn by a tremoring hand,

Meandering.

From 35,000 feet

Depth perception fades.

I see feathers and fronds

Scattered over the quilt.

As the quilt spreads eastward

The pattern evolves,

More and more rectangles appear

Among the circles.

Finally, the quilt is all angular.

Dots of buildings

Are placed in the corners

Of the quadrilaterals.

I ponder that real people

Live in the dots,

And work the fields

That cluster around them.

I want to see,

The mighty Mississippi,

That cuts through, providing access,

To our heartland.

I search and wonder,

Is that it?

It is wide and has

An obvious flood plain.

Maybe not wide enough,

Angled too eastward,

Then I see it heading south,

Broader than my previous guess.

The clouds cast a veil,

Over the quilt.

Buildings, towns and wind farms,

Fade into the gauzy whiteness.

The sky is darkening,

Orange, pink and yellow

Encircle us on the horizon,

As we fly into evening.

Staring through clumps of cotton,

Occasional lights appear,

Specks of brilliance

On a darkened earth.

Then we descend

Through scattered clouds

Lights outline the river bank,

Docks and boats and highways.

In a day, I have traversed west to east,

A land once traveled east to west

By souls more courageous

And adventurous than I.

They put down roots in a barren plain,

And created the quilt.

They sought out the mountain passages

And endured the wasteland.

They stumbled wearily onward,

And reached the western sea.

We enjoy the fruits of their labors.

With appreciation may we stand united.

May their sacrifice not be wasted,

On a people too self-centered,

Too greedy, too thoughtless

Unwilling to cherish and defend.

Why Something?

Why something…

Instead of nothing?

Why suspend a speck of dust

In the trackless void of space?

Uniformity…

Disrupted

By a microscopic blip

On the radar of infinity.

A whisper…

Was spoken.

A gentle breath

Became a swirling vortex.

A galaxy…

Spun into being.

Fantastic complexity exploded,

Multiplied and radiated outward.

In the beginning…

Nothing became something.

The Spirit of God hovered,

Creating light and life.

The Perils of Protest---Harming Your Own Cause

There are many perfectly legitimate criticisms of Donald Trump.  Whether or not he is currently behaving circumspectly in regard to relationships with women, he certainly seems to have been inappropriate in the past.  He expresses himself in inflammatory ways causing embarrassment to our country and creeping us closer to open conflict with North Korea.  However, everything he does and says is not wrong.

Unfortunately, there is a liberal element in our society which seems bent on making him out to be the villain and idiot in every possible situation.  Things he says which are perfectly within reason are twisted in grotesque ways to seem nasty.  The current issue of condolence calls seems to be an example of this.

I listened to what Congresswoman Frederica Wilson had to say.  I have also listened to the video/audio released by one of the widows who received a condolence call from Trump.  He was compassionate, praised the fallen soldier, asked the widow questions about her family and invited her to visit him in the oval office if she was in Washington. 

Wilson, in addition to her earlier negative comments, is now declaring that she must be a “rock star” because Trump is paying attention to what she is saying.  I think it was her purpose to put herself on the national stage right from the get-go, and that she is guilty of using a widow’s pain for her own political gain.

Liberals need to back off and recognize that when they criticize everything, they lose the validity of all of their criticisms…even the legitimate ones.  Of course, this is also true of conservatives.  Although it wasn’t as extreme with Obama as it has been with Trump, conservatives made a lot of ridiculous jabs.  One which was especially offensive to me was the citing of Psalm 109:8  May his days be few; may another take his office.  That was a disgusting misuse of God’s word.  People may think they are being clever, when they are actually repulsive and harming the cause they seek to promote.

A couple of decades ago, I was on a three-county board for Health Systems Agency.  One evening when we were reviewing an application from Planned Parenthood, pro-lifers showed up for public comment and threw pictures of aborted fetuses on the table in front of those of us on the board.  There were others on the board beside me who were pro-life, and we were just cringing.  The person chairing the meeting actually said, “you are harming your own cause.”

When people feel so strongly about something that their emotions take over and rational thought disappears, they run the risk of torpedoing themselves and their position.  They look like madmen lashing out at every possible misstep on the enemy’s part, instead of targeting the specific problems over which they have a worthwhile complaint.

Both liberals and conservative are, and have been, guilty of this.  If this doesn’t stop, our society will dissolve into chaos as we shred one another.

A house divided against itself, cannot stand.  Abraham Lincoln

Protecting our Daughters

As parents, we have an obligation to protect our daughters from situations where unscrupulous males could prey upon them.  It isn’t just some creepy guy hanging out on the street corner who is a threat.  The creep may be a professional.

One of my daughters had lots of difficulties during her teenage years.  Our pediatrician recommended trying a psychologist who was new in town.  He told me the man had an extensive and lucrative practice in New York City, but that his wife was originally from Watertown and wanted to return to her roots.  They decided to maintain homes in both places.  She would live in the north country, and he would go back and forth working a day or two a week locally and the rest in New York City.  The pediatrician admitted that he didn’t really know anything about the psychologist, but his wife was a lovely person.

I was not going to send my vulnerable daughter to this person without checking him out myself first, so I made an appointment with him.  On the phone he told me that he did not normally counsel teenagers, but would meet with me and hear my concerns to see if he thought he could help.

His office was in the upstairs of an old Victorian house which seemed to be unoccupied except for his upstairs suite.  No one was in earshot, but that didn’t especially bother me initially.  I was seated about ten feet away from him, so I wasn’t ill at ease at first.  A rapid exit was possible if necessary.

I encountered the first problem when he was insistent that I tell him our family’s annual income.  I refused to do so, as this was none of his business.  I told him I did not see it as relevant.  He said he needed to know if part of our daughter’s problem was financial insecurity.  I told him that we were comfortable and that we had no financial worries, and in any event, we would never discuss such things with our children.  He then tried to impress me with how much he earned yearly.

After several more minutes of discussion, he asked me the bust size of all the women in the household….my daughter, her two sisters and myself.  I told him that had no relevance, at which point he stared me up and down and said that of course it did, and after all, “You are an attractive woman with no obvious physical defects.”

So clearly, I was NOT sending my daughter to this creep and the session was soon over.  I asked him how much I owed and pulled out my checkbook.  He told me that he could arrange for my insurance to pay for the session by saying I had come to him for something like “life adjustment” counseling or something similar.  I said, “No, I didn’t come for me.  I came to see if you were an appropriate person to whom I could send my daughter.”

I wrote the check and placed it on the table next to the door.  I was not about to walk up to him and hand it to him.  I was so angry that I actually considered dropping it on the floor, so he would have to stoop to pick it up.  I have sometimes wished that I had done that.

I reported all this to the pediatrician, who shook his head and said, “Stupid, stupid, stupid.”

A few months later, I read that the psychologist and his wife were divorced.  No surprise to me.

I was so glad that I had scoped out the situation before sending my daughter upstairs in a deserted house with an opportunistic predator.

The Validity of Scientific Inquiry

I know that it is popular to believe that religion and science are in opposition to each other, and that no thinking person would also believe the “myths” of the Bible.

My view is that God is a rational being and that he created the universe and all that is in it to function according to rational and knowable principles.  Science is an attempt to discover those principles and is in no way contradictory to a belief in a Creator and Sustainer.

A little research on the history of the laws of physics places beginning concepts as emerging about 600 years BCE.  Interestingly, this is also the era in which the book of Jeremiah was written.  A passage I read recently seems to refer to the laws of physics.

If I have not established my covenant with day and night and the fixed laws of heaven and earth, then I will reject the descendants of Jacob and David my servant....(Jeremiah 33:25-26)

The point of the passage is not the fixed laws, but the fact that the Lord will always be faithful to the people of Israel and the descendants of David.  But, his faithfulness is as firm as the laws governing day and night and heaven and earth.  In other words, He is acknowledging that he has in fact set up fixed laws…principles which govern the world we observe around us.  He is not asking us to believe in some magical or mystical elements that bring about the order we see.  He is not saying that someone pulls the sun across the sky behind his chariot.  He is saying that there are fixed laws which bring about the sunrise and sunset each day.  We know now that day and night are governed by the movement of planetary bodies.  God already knew that, of course, and knew we would one day figure it out.

He also understands the mysteries of subatomic particles and of dark matter and energy.  He doesn’t mind if we try to figure out his “fixed laws.”  Belief in him and scientific inquiry are perfectly compatible.

I believe anyone who genuinely seeks TRUTH will eventually be confronted with God himself.

On Forgetfulness and Donuts

I am pondering forgetfulness which is an increasing issue as we age.  Notice, I said “issue” and not “problem.”  I think too much is made of seniors being forgetful.

Recently I had an eye doctor appointment.  I thought it was going to be for a refraction, but it turned out to be a dry eye check.  They claim that I just had a refraction in April.  I do not remember that.  I thought the dry eye check was in April.  I wondered how I could have forgotten, but then I started to think, “why would I remember?”  I have had dozens of refractions in my life…why would I remember that one?

I have eaten thousands of breakfasts, lunches and dinners in my life….why would I remember what I ate yesterday?

I have made the bed thousands of times in my life.  Have I made it yet this morning?  Guess I’ll have to run down to the bedroom and look.  Yesterday when I found the bed made, I couldn’t remember doing it.  Turns out there was a good reason for that….my husband had slept so late that he felt obliged to make it.

Have I paid the utility bill this month?  Well, if I remembered to write it down in the checkbook, I have a reference.  I have paid that bill hundreds of times, so why would I bother to remember this one?

Why did I come in this room?  I must have come for something….but I have been here so many times before.

Of course, it is annoying to forget, but by the time one is in her 70s, there are so many things floating around in her brain, and some of them are so much more important than others.

I don’t remember the names of some people I have met, but I still remember my family and close friends, and if you give me long enough, I can pull out most of the names I need to know.  It might be 24 hours after I have greeted the person in some generic way, but eventually it comes.

Last night, the final Jeopardy question was about Caesar’s Commentary on the Gallic Wars.  I memorized the first few sentences in high school Latin class about 56 years ago.  I can still quote it…Gallia est ommes divisa in partes tres…  So obviously there is some meaningless trivia lodged up there pushing out some more recent memories.

Speaking of breakfasts….which I remember doing a few paragraphs back….I would remember if I had been to the donut shop and had a “headlight.”  That is my favorite kind of donut.  I have discovered in traveling around that not all Dunkin Donuts carry headlights, and sometimes they go by a different name or aren’t made quite the same way.  My local donut shop covers the top surface of the donut with chocolate frosting and then puts a medium size blob of white cream on top.  I have had them with skimpy little blobs.  Recently I had one with an absolutely enormous covering with a thick layer of the white cream all over the top of the donut.  I actually cannot remember where that was. 

AHA!  I just took time to reread this and apparently my brain was working on it in the background….I had that donut at a rest stop on the NYS Thruway, and there was so much white cream that I shared it with my husband.  I do remember life’s significant moments.

Worth Dying For

As a young person, I read and heard stories of martyrs.  I pondered the whole notion of dying for a cause.  I heard people say they would be willing to die for the cause of Christ.  It seemed so noble.  But at some point in my teens years, I decided that any cause worth dying for, must also be worth living for. 

Life is actually a process of dying slowly.  If a person is not willing to make daily sacrifices for the cause they claim to hold dear, I don’t want to hear any nonsense about their willingness to die for that cause.  For example, I have heard parents say that they would do anything for their children….even die for them.  If those same parents smoke around their child who has asthma, I say “bologna!”   You aren’t willing to die for your child, if you aren’t willing to make daily sacrifices of your own wishes and desires and habits for the sake of the child’s well-being.

Long ago I memorized Romans 12: 1-2   I beseech you, therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that ye present your bodies, a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service.  And be not conformed to this world, but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is that good and acceptable and perfect will of God.  That is the King James Version.

I also like Phillips’ translation:  With eyes wide open to the mercies of God, I beg you, my brothers, as an act of intelligent worship, to give him your bodies, as a living sacrifice, consecrated to him and acceptable by him.  Don’t let the world around you squeeze you into its own mold, but let God remold your minds from within, so that you may prove in practice that the plan of God for you is good, meets his demands and moves toward the goal of true maturity.

God does not ask most of us to be martyrs in the traditional meaning of the word.  He does, however, expect us to die daily…be a “living sacrifice.”  This means obedience to his good plan for us, even when we don’t like it or don’t understand it.

I read an article yesterday in Christianity Today which was written by a lesbian, who still has such inclinations, but also understands that in obedience to God, she must resist the temptation to act on those inclinations.  She is living out the daily sacrifice of her desires in order to conform her mind and body to what is acceptable to God.

I know people who have left marriages and married someone new stating that “God wants us to be happy.”  Nope!  God wants you to be holy.  He wants you to sacrifice your desires and have your mind transformed.  Don’t follow the pattern of this world!  If you have to die a little every day in order to be obedient, so be it.

We all have inclinations and urges that are wrong…..anger, pride, fear, feelings of worthlessness, temptation to gossip.  We may read books, listen to music, watch television, or have friendships we know are not suitable for a mind that is being transformed for God’s purposes.  If we are a “living sacrifice,” we need to learn to die daily.

Obedience to God may mean a dramatic death, but it will more likely mean the slow process of surrender to his purposes in daily life.

Puerto Rican Heartache

My heart aches for Puerto Rico and the suffering of the people following Hurricane Maria.  So many in Puerto Rico live in poverty normally, that I can’t imagine what it must be like now.

I have visited Puerto Rico twice.  Both times, it was in connection with an arm of our church denomination.  My husband serves on a board that makes loans to Puerto Rican churches to purchase buildings and renovate them or buy land and build new churches.   While there each time, we visited multiple churches and had opportunity to interact with attendees of some of the churches.  On one occasion, we attended a church potluck dinner, which was a chance to eat “normal” local dishes as opposed to what one might find in a restaurant.

We stayed in lovely hotels on the beach, but across the street there were people living in cardboard boxes.  Poverty was too obvious to be ignored.  One day we rented a car and drove from San Juan to the southern part of the island.  The situation was even worse there.  I came home sad for what I had seen.  Certainly, I was encouraged by the spirit of the people in the churches, but once you are outside of the tourist area, the rest of the island is depressing.  I felt helpless, because the need was so enormous back then.

What now?  The island is destroyed.  People are without food and water and basic sanitation services.  Relief efforts are hampered by highways being impassable and ports not yet safe for ships to enter.  On the mainland, anyone could rent a truck, fill it with supplies and drive it to a needy area.  Power companies from unaffected areas can come in and help.  But we are talking about an island!

I am suggesting that anyone, who has the ability to do so, could make a contribution to an agency they know will provide relief without skimming too much off the top for administrative costs.  I have read recently of some celebrities making major donations, but I wish more of them would step up.  Does someone really need a private jet or an enormous diamond when there is so much human need? 

 

Information coming out of Puerto Rico is still scant.  I do not know how people I have met have weathered this.  I am praying for the people of Puerto Rico, and especially for those in the churches I have visited.  May God give them strength and provide for their needs.

Is the World Going to End on September 23rd?

Is the world going to end on September 23^rd?  Well, yes….obviously, for some people it will.  For others, it will end sooner, and for some later.  One of the fascinating things about life is that it ends for everyone, and very few people know when that end will come. 

Neither does anyone really know what tomorrow will bring.  Will Kim Jung Un have sent us the “gift” he has been promising?  Will the Yellowstone super volcano blow and wipe out everything west of the Mississippi?  Will another hurricane smash into the east coast or Florida?  Will I fall down the stairs and break my neck?  Do I unknowingly have an aneurysm that will rupture while I am eating dinner?

I wish all the supposed prophets would stop making specific predictions and contriving something from the signs they believe are in the heavens.  My understanding of a prophet is that he/she is someone who speaks truth into a situation.  This does NOT necessarily involve attempts at predicting what will happen five days from now.  Those assertions are not truth….they are guesses.  Only God knows what the future holds.

He has made some promises which are truth and will happen.  He will return.  Those who know and love Him will be taken to heaven to live with Him…either at the time of their death or when He returns.  But, He has very purposefully not told us when.  When John wrote Revelation, there were things he heard which he was specifically told not to record.  I suspect this may be because it would have made coming events too obvious to us.  God did NOT want us to know, so please stop guessing!

What God does want is for all to repent, acknowledge His son and enter into a loving relationship with Him.  If we knew the future, it would be tempting to live in sin until the very last moment and “repent” then.  God does understand human nature.  He knows our weaknesses.  He wants us to come to Him because we love Him and genuinely desire to serve Him.  He knows the intents of our minds and hearts.

Matthew 24:42-44 Therefore keep watch, because you do not know on what day your Lord will come.  But understand this, if the owner of the house had known at what time of night the thief was coming, he would have kept watch and would not have let his house be broken into.  So you also must be ready, because the Son of Man will come at an hour when you do not expect him.

I guess since he is expected on September 23^rd, it will not be then. 

Hmmm….I wonder if the “prophets” making the predictions have copies of the Bible that are missing these verses.

Is This God's Mercy?

Those of us who believe that Christ will one day return and rule the world in righteousness have been expecting it was imminent for a long time.  I’m sure those who don’t believe it think we have loose screws, and that we are silly to keep believing as years go by.  

We believe that it will indeed happen, but only in God’s time.  He wants everyone to have a chance to accept the salvation that comes through the sacrifice of Jesus dying for our sins.  Only He knows when everyone who is open to receiving His free gift will have had a chance to accept it.

Lots of people are out there declaring they have had dreams and visions that now really is the time, and that natural disasters we are currently seeing are God’s judgment prior to his coming.  I have no idea.  The Bible says that no man knows the day or hour. (Matthew 24:36)

I would like to propose that the natural disasters are, in fact, God’s mercy.  I am praying that those who are atheists or agnostics and see these events as the power of “Mother Nature” will begin to see them as the power of an Almighty God.  A little bit of fear in the face of a strong hurricane or an earthquake is not a bad thing.  “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.” (Psalm 111:10)  Perhaps, this is not so much judgment, as God giving a last chance to those who have been resisting.

Will these events bring misery to those who already know and love God?  Yes, in some cases, they certainly will, but what if our misery brings salvation to someone who doesn’t know and love Him.  There is a saying that “there are no atheists in foxholes.”  Perhaps, there are no atheists in 185 mph winds or 12 foot storm surges.  

We need to believe our suffering is worth someone else’s salvation.  The rain falls on the just and the unjust. (Matthew 5:45)  So, if the already redeemed are inconvenienced or experience suffering or even death, let us see it as part of God’s mercy to those who still have not recognized their need.  Let us pray that they are driven to the “Mercy Seat.”

The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse

The stable door swings open

And with speed he charges out.

His rider wears a crown.

He gives a thunderous shout.

His bow is strung,

His mission to fulfill,

And the white horse springs forward

To conquer and to kill.

A red steed comes behind him,

Chaos to create.

He holds a mighty sword

To bring about man’s fate.

He stirs up dissension,

Men kill each other.

They fall and they die,

But yet there is another.

The black horse of famine

Flies over the earth

His rider holds scales

To determine worth.

What will it cost

To buy your daily bread?

The world groans in hunger.

Millions are unfed.

The sound of the pale horse

Is heard in the street.

His hooves are clattering

With an incessant beat.

Famine, plague and death,

The wild beasts rise up,

A fourth of mankind drinks 

Wrath from judgment’s cup.

We go about our lives,

Not thinking this will come,

But the day is approaching,

And no one can run.

Satan may win the battle

But God will win the war

Every knee will bow to Him

And time will be no more.

From Revelation 6:1-7