Advent Wreath

The church I currently attend generally has an Advent Wreath for the Sundays leading up to Christmas.  Finding a pink candle is sometimes a problem.  This year I volunteered to put the wreath together.  I was really proud of myself for finding a pink candle, until I remembered that the only one I could find was scented, and one of the members of our congregation has allergies which might be triggered by the wafting aroma.

So...I decided to solve the problem permanently.  I purchased a 12 inch square piece of craft plywood, 5 electric candles and a piece of Christmas garland.  I knew I had colored cellophane at home.  

I painted the wooden square green.  While  it was drying, I wrapped 3 candles in purple cellophane and one in pink cellophane, gluing the overlap of the paper.  When the paint and glue were dry, I glued the five candles in place.  The white one in the center and the other four set in a bit from each of the corners. 

 I flattened the cords against the board and used a staple gun to secure the cords to the board positioning them so that they all came off the same side (what would be the back side) close together.  I wrapped the cords together with duct tape to make them easier to manage.  I marked the switches in sequence 1 through 5.  I then arranged the garland around the candles.

I now have an Advent Wreath that won't burn the church down or cause an allergic reaction.
Also...I won't have to go on a quest for a pink candle again next year.

Crazy??? Maybe Not!

My family tree is full of women named Ruth.  I was named after my mother's baby sister who died as an infant.  However, I had two other Aunt Ruths, and one of them, who had married into the family, was generally viewed as rocking off the edge of sanity.

Aunt Ruth was a high-strung, nervous woman, who never seemed as mentally agile as most of the family.  She and my uncle apparently enjoyed arguing...it was their relationship style.  He did, however, always get the best of her.  He used to threaten that if she died first, he would see to it that the hearse was put at the end of the procession to the cemetery, because she had never been any place on time in her entire life, and he wouldn't want her to feel uncomfortable at her own funeral.

Aunt Ruth had some bizarre habits.  If she invited someone for dinner, they needed to plan on the meal being at least two hours later than she had said it would be served. I once watched her fuss over every minute detail during those two hours, even though the meal was not elaborate.  When she wished to cover a bowl before placing in it the refrigerator, she did not use plastic wrap or foil or a lid.  Nope, she placed a sheet of waxed paper over the bowl and spent an eternity taking tiny tucks in the paper to crimp it to the edge of the bowl.

One of the things that caused people to think she was really nuts, was her insistence that when my uncle retired, she was retiring also.  She had never worked outside of the home, so her definition of retiring was that she was no longer going to fix dinner.  Since she began refusing to allow anyone into their home, I am suspicious that she may have also stopped cleaning.  I was not able to verify that, but she actually did follow through on her threat to stop preparing meals,  They went out to dinner every evening after my uncle retired.

My husband and I are now retirement age, and I'm starting to think she wasn't as crazy as we all thought.  I haven't yet tired of meal preparation, but I certainly have tired of the clean up afterward.  I have a dishwasher, and some evenings my husband is quite helpful.  But...I am definitely growing weary of dirty dishes.  I have pondered the use of paper plates, but I don't like to eat from them on a regular basis, and I would still have to deal with the pans and other utensils used to prepare the meal.

"Retiring" as defined by my "crazy" Aunt Ruth is starting to look like an attractive option.

My Grandmother's Song

It seems strange to me that a song my Grandmother sang to me when I was a small child comes to my mind so frequently.  I find myself singing it while driving along in the car.  Sometimes the words play soundlessly in my mind. 

My Grandmother died at the age of 68, when I was thirteen.  My memories of her do not extend over a long period of time, but since we lived with her and my Grandfather at times when I was young, my memories are deep.

I can recall how it felt to sit on her lap and hear her frail, but true to pitch, voice.

Jesus bids us shine,

With a pure, clear light,

Like a little candle,

Burning in the night.

In this world of darkness,

Bids us shine--

You in your small corner,

And I in mine.

This represents a slight alteration in words from the original, but it is the way I remember her singing it.

If Grandma had lived longer, allowing for adult level discussion, I might have inquired about the meaning of this song in her life.  Was it just a children’s song, she thought I would enjoy?  Was she purposely trying to instill its meaning in my young mind?  Was what she believed in her heart flowing out without specific thought as to its impact on me?

I know there have been long periods in my life….perhaps, years….when I haven’t thought of this song.  But, now that I am the age at which I last remember my Grandma Baumeister, the song has resurfaced and imbedded itself in my mental playlist.

And so...

Jesus bids us shine….you in your small corner, and I in mine.

Between a Hard Place and the Rock

Between a Hard Place and the Rock

A hard place...
            rends my heart
            fills my mind
            crushes my spirit.

So I...
            run to the refuge of
            flee to the shadow of
            crawl to the shelter of

The Rock.

Point of Tension

Those of us who have a Christian commitment need to be honest with ourselves about the tension between belief and unbelief that exists at our very core.  We live in a physical world where the things which seem most real are those we can touch, taste, smell, hear and see.  Tangibles represent a certain security.  However, as “believers,” we also live in a spiritual world which is only spiritually discerned.  At times that dimension can seem more real than the physical, but at other times, we struggle to hang on.  It is easy to believe when life is cruising along without bumps in the road.  It is much more difficult when hardship and discouragement descend and the way ahead seems impassable.

We are not alone.  Job was a man of enormous faith, but when he experienced great suffering, he swung from despair to ecstasy and back again.

                Job 9:33  If only there were someone to arbitrate between us, to lay his hand upon us both, someone to remove God’s rod from me, so that his terror would frighten me no more.

                Job 10:18  Why did you bring me out of the womb?  I wish I had died before any eye saw me.

                Job 19:25  I know that my Redeemer lives, and that in the end he will stand upon the earth.  And after my skin has been destroyed, yet in my flesh I will see God.

In the New Testament, a man with a demon-possessed son comes to Christ.  His dilemma is the same.  He has watched in grief as his son has been tormented, and there seems to be no cure.

                Mark 9:21-21  Jesus asked the boy’s father, “How long has he been like this?” 

                “From childhood,” he answered.  “It has often thrown him into fire or water to kill him.  But if you can do anything, take pity on us and help us.”

                “If you can?” said Jesus.  “Everything is possible for him who believes.”

                Immediately the boy’s father exclaimed, “I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!”

The King James Version says this more poetically:  “Lord, I believe; help thou mine unbelief.”

Personally, at times of great difficulty and discouragement, when I have questioned God’s existence and whether faith in Him had validity, I have come to the point of thinking, “If there is no solution to my situation in faith, there is no solution anywhere.  I chose to believe……Lord, help my unbelief.”

I would encourage those with doubts, not to beat up on themselves.  God “remembers that we are dust.” (Psalm 103:14)  He did not browbeat the boy’s father or refuse to heal the boy because the father had a sliver of unbelief.  He accepted the faith that the man did have and responded by healing the son.

God accepts our honest questions today, just as He accepted those of Job.  We do not have to fear approaching the God of the universe, because He is also a loving father who knows our weaknesses.

The Value of a Home

Two years ago we decided that the responsible thing to do at our stage in life was to downsize.  We considered various ways of going about this, but given my husband’s tendency to procrastinate until a deadline looms, he thought we should go out and buy another house and then put our home of 34 years on the market.  I do think this was the right approach.  Cleaning up a 34 year collection was a huge task and a lengthy transition time was needed.  Had we sold the old place before looking for a new place, I have no idea how we would have ever gotten out in a timely fashion.

Admittedly, we haven’t actually “gotten out” totally.  My husband has not yet moved the entire contents of his den….there is a walk-in closet jammed with old software and computers.  A family member still has some items in the carriage house, and the antique  pump organ is still in the basement awaiting a decision.  But, basically we are moved out and the house has been on the market for two years.

We have had some nibbles, but no sale.  The real estate agent helped us set the price, and it does not seem unreasonable.  Recently a house across the street sold for 6% less than we are asking.  Our house has 6 bedrooms compared to 4 in that house, 4 bathrooms compared to 2 ½, two fireplaces compared to one, 3 porches compared to one, a carriage house compared to a two-stall garage, and our lot is significantly bigger.  Based on that, our price seems like a bargain.

Regarding condition of the homes….that house has been updated in terms of decorating.  Having walls painted in very deep shades is currently popular.  But, that is purely cosmetic…an easy and inexpensive fix.  Just before putting our home on the market, I had resurfaced the doors on the kitchen cupboards, had the kitchen painted and papered and put down new laminate flooring.  A couple of months ago, I had the counter-top replaced with a new and attractive material.

So…why is our lovely family home sitting there empty?

*Is the size of the home a negative?  Most families don’t need 6 bedrooms.  They don’t know they need 4 bathrooms until their daughters become teenagers.

*Is the size of the lot a negative?  I will grant you that mowing and leaf raking the property are daunting!

*Do I need to replace the carpet on the back stairs?  It is looking old and tired.

*Is there a paint or paper redo that would make the house more attractive to a buyer?

*I have been told the kitchen is too narrow.  Should I move one of our tables back over there so prospective buyers can visualize how a table fits in the space.  Granted, it may be too narrow if the occupants of the house are “oversized.”

OR

Is it possible that we overvalue the house, because, for us, it is so full of wonderful memories?

I remember the amazing 80 by 80 skating rink my husband created in the back yard several years.  The kids put their skates on in the kitchen and spent hours out there.  Other children came from blocks around and said it was the best ice in the city.

Our daughters did gymnastics in that huge living room.  Our son set up boxes as “hurdles” and ran through the rooms, leaping over them.

The porches were play areas on rainy days.  The second floor porch was a great place to sit and relax after the kids were in bed at night.

The 10-foot ceiling in the living room allowed for a massive Christmas tree.  I had a frame that fit in the large front window on the second floor, and I created a “stained-glass” window with colored cellophane for the holidays.  A group of young adults once made a haunted house in the basement.

The front hall window faces west and has prism glass.  Late in the afternoon when the sun is low in the sky, rainbows are thrown across the front hall and into the living room.

It wasn’t uncommon to host a party with 50 to 70 guests.  The kitchen was very functional for large scale entertaining and both the living room and dining room are spacious.

The third floor suite was often occupied by long-term house-guests….friends needing a place to live for weeks or months.

On occasion when the power was out (e.g. during ice storms), our house was full of short-term guests, because we had an old coal-burning furnace in the basement in which we could put a wood fire, and thus, keep the house warm even without electricity.

On cold winter days, one of my daughters curled up in cat-fashion on the carpet in the sunbeams streaming in a south-facing window.

No dollar value can be put on memories.  A family living in a home must make its own memories.  So, how do I place a value on my old home? 

What is it worth?

One of the Perils of Cold-Calling

My dear husband has an unusually high pitched voice for a man.  I, of course, noticed this when I first met him, but after a few minutes of conversation, I forgot all about it.  It has actually been an advantage in singing together over the years, since I am a soprano, and he is basically an alto.  So, I never think about the pitch of his voice anymore unless something happens that causes someone else to notice or comment. 

He has always hated phone calls. I attribute a small part of this to his voice and the vast majority of it to being male.  But, it is true that he is often mistaken for a woman on the phone.  I sometimes overhear him trying to convince a caller that he really is the man of the house.

A few years ago when he was still working full time, it was not unusual for him to receive calls at the office from someone trying to sell him something.  His secretary was very good at screening his calls and preventing unwanted interruptions.  However, one day his secretary was off, and there was a substitute taking his calls.  The poor woman became quite distressed over a particularly aggressive salesman who kept calling back over and over.  She could not get rid of him.  Finally, realizing that the situation was upsetting her, my husband told her that the next time the man called, she could connect him.

So when the salesman called again, the secretary connected him.  My husband answered and identified himself by name.  The salesman retorted, “Listen, lady, I don’t care how you try to disguise your voice.  I know it’s still you.”

My husband calmly replied, “Well, I guess you don’t want to talk to me very badly,” and hung up.

The salesman never called back.

My husband enjoyed telling me the story.  I enjoyed picturing the look on the salesman’s face and the confusion in his brain as he sorted out what had just happened.