Christmas Cookies

I love to bake, and I especially like to bake Christmas cookies!

When we moved to the retirement community, I must have told myself I wouldn’t be doing as much baking, because I don’t seem to have my cookie press or the cake pan that can be used to make that adorable manger scene.  If I did bring them with me, I have no idea as to their whereabouts.  But that’s okay, because there aren’t any children around to enjoy the edible manger scene, and there are still so many cookies I can make.

There are some deterrents.  I have essential tremor and sometimes a cup or spoonful of an ingredient ends up on the countertop instead of in the mixing bowl.  I have back pain if I stand up working for more than about 45 minutes, so I have to take breaks and sit down.   But on the other side of the argument is this irresistible urge to bake cookies….lots of cookies.

I should not be eating these cookies.  All that sugar isn’t good for me, and now there is that darn A1C test, which measures the average glucose level over the past 3 months.  I’m due for that in February, so the 3 month period does include Christmas cookie season.  It is my intent to give most of these cookies away…but…many of the old folks here that I plan to give them to probably shouldn’t eat too many either.  My husband just succumbed to his fourth warm-out-of-the-oven cookie from the current batch.  He used to run so regularly that it didn’t matter, but he is slowing down, and his waist is expanding.

At this point, I have baked sugar cookie cutouts, date bars, snickerdoodles and white chocolate-cranberry cookies.  I am planning on peanut blossoms, cherry blossoms, Christmas jewels and brownies with mint M&Ms mixed in the batter.  Eight different kinds should satisfy me, but my head is spinning with cookies from Christmases past.  What about rosettes, spritz, gingerbread, thumbprints, coconut orange tartlets, bon bons, fudge melt-aways, Russian teacakes, lemon bars, molasses crinkles???  What about all the kinds I haven’t tried for which I have recipes clipped out of magazines or printed from the internet?

I guess I could blame this on having a degree in chemistry, because there are similarities between chemistry and baking, but it’s more likely that this is all my Mother’s fault.  I have been conditioned since childhood!

I loved my Mother's cookies and so did many other people, including Santa.

Am I Grieved?

 Chapter 9 of Ezekiel tells an interesting tale.  God can no longer put up with the awful things happening in the vicinity of his temple.  He orders a man with a writing kit to go through the city and place a mark on all of those who are grieving over the terrible things being done.  He then orders a group of men carrying weapons to follow the first man and kill without any pity or compassion all we do not have the identifying mark.  “’Slaughter the old men, the young men and women, the mothers and children, but do not touch anyone who has the mark.  Begin at my sanctuary.’  So they began with the old men who were in front of the temple.”

I realize this is Old Testament, and so there is perhaps valid reason to interpret this metaphorically.  But I’m not so sure this isn’t prophetic and looming in our future as a nation.  Horrible, wicked things are happening not only in the world, but in our own nation.  God’s commands are being openly defied.  Even “the old men in front of the temple” have abandoned the principles God has laid out.   Homosexuality among clergy is tolerated and even applauded.  Abortion up to birth is shrugged off.  Tolerance of anything and everything is preached from the pulpit.  If biblical directives are brought up, we are told that isn’t “loving,” and we are narrow-minded bigots.

Forgotten is the fact that God is a God of both love and justice.  Is He going to send his angels of death among us?

Interestingly in this story, his judgment falls not only on those who are doing the wickedness, but also on those who aren’t grieved by it.  Apathy is not to be tolerated.  How many of us are not sufficiently grieved by the evil being perpetrated all around us?  It is easy to become inured.  If we listen to the news, we hear daily of children being abused, of powerful men crushing those under them, of religious leaders with their hands in the till, of all types of sexual perversion, of cheating and dishonesty ignored.

If we focus on all of this, we could grieve constantly in a way that made us depressed and non-functional.  I don’t believe that is God’s intent.  If we turn into raving lunatics, no one will pay attention to what we say.  But, I do think as we hear of evil things, we can grieve along with God in prayer.  We can ask Him for wisdom.  We can speak up fearlessly.  We can plead with Him to “make the crooked straight.”

Please understand, I do NOT advocate shooting abortion doctors, or stoning homosexuals, or in any way becoming God’s avenging angels.  That is His and only His prerogative.  But, certainly God is grieved.  He is weeping for what we have made of His creation, and we can weep with Him.

Why is Truth so Illusive?

I woke up this morning thinking about truth and wondering why it is so hard to know it.

I believe the problem began in the Garden of Eden.  The serpent convinced Eve that God had not told her and Adam the truth.  How could he have accomplished that?  Didn’t Adam and Eve know God as their creator?  Didn’t He walk with them in the Garden?  Why would they believe the snake!?  Perhaps, because as human beings we are inclined to believe that what we want to be true is true.

Today we are in a terrible struggle for truth.  Those who desperately wanted Trump to win the election believe that he did win.  They genuinely believe there was fraud in the election, and that if they try hard enough to prove it, truth will win out.  But, those who could not stand the thought of another four years of Trump and, therefore, supported Biden believe that Trump and his supporters are crazy conspiracy theorists, and that the election was properly run and totally valid.  Meanwhile, we have the media telling us what to believe.  We end up buying into what fits our own world view and personal agenda.

But, how on earth, does one discover TRUTH?

I can think of three instances in my life, when someone has told me “truth” in a very private conversation, and then said if I ever quoted them, they would say I was crazy…that they never had said any such thing.  None of these situations were earth shattering, but they did confirm my belief that truth is hard to come by.  All three individuals were professionals in influential positions who had personal reasons for hiding truth.

I find it interesting that Pilate had in front of him ultimate TRUTH, and yet asked the question, “What is truth?”  Christ, because He was, in fact, God in the flesh defined Truth, but Pilate could not see that.  What if he had?  What if he had stopped the whole madness that led to the crucifixion?  Sometimes God allows people to be blind to truth in order to bring about His purposes.  Pilate needed to be blind, because Christ’s death was the means of the salvation of mankind.

I am not predicting outcome, but it is possible that God is allowing blindness on the part of some involved in today’s madness to bring about His purposes in human history.  Actually, I think it is more than possible; I think it is the truth.  So, I am not going to tie myself in knots over which side of the current argument is correct.  I’m just resting in the truth that God is in control. 

There is no other security than His sovereignty.

Come, Lord Jesus

 Earthquakes rumble, seas roar,

Tornadoes swirl and hurricanes rage,

Fires sweep across the forests,

As all Creation groans in pain.

 

Man in his ignorance and apathy

Ignores the fact that he himself

Lives and breathes and has consciousness.

That he is responsible to his Creator.

 

But at His coming, the angels sing

The trees clap their hands.

The stones though inanimate,

Will find their voice and cry out.

 

The crooked will be made straight,

The wrongs will be righted,

Tears will be dried and suffering cease.

There will be peace on earth.

 

Come, Lord Jesus.

Train of Life

 We pull from the station with a bump and a lurch,

Throwing me from my cozy berth,

And the rattle of the wheels on the track sets the beat,

And I try to keep up with my tiny feet.

 

We zoom through my childhood beginning the trip,

And I dance and twirl, and I leap and skip,

And with joyful exuberance, I prance,

Because I can’t resist the rhythm of the dance.

 

There’s pounding on the track, and I feel the heat.

Now the passion of youth sets the beat,

But the train moves on at a steady pace,

And I find myself swept into the maddening race.

 

But, after a time of just waltzing along,

I start to recognize that I am not as strong,

And I find that now I must use a cane,

To keep my balance on this surging train.

 

I see my destination up ahead,

The road has been long, but the light is red,

And I leave the train and the rattling track,

Knowing in my heart, I cannot go back.

 

And the train pulls away to the future bound.,

From the sidelines now, I hear the distant sound,

Of the rumble and the rattle and the clack, clack, clack,

Of the rhythm of the wheels on the Lifeline track.

Are We Obligated to Die at 75?

 Dr. Ezekiel Emanual, who is an adviser to Biden regarding covid, has previously come out with the notion that people really shouldn’t be living past 75.  He believes creativity and productivity decline significantly for most people after this age.   I agree with him that way too much money is spent in trying to stave off the inevitability of death.  But, I don’t think we have an obligation to die at 75 or shortly thereafter.  I can think of many people I know personally who have been and are very productive past 75.

There was a point in my life when I thought that if I was past 70 and needed a pacemaker, I wouldn’t get one.  I am 75 and I am still quite healthy and active, so if I was confronted with the question of a pacemaker at this point, I might do it.  On the other hand, I so wish my mother hadn’t agreed to one at the age of 80.  She was already in frail condition, although we didn’t know the full extent at that point.  For example, we didn’t know that one of her renal arteries was plugged resulting in one of her kidneys being non-functioning.  She had the pacemaker put it.  Shortly after that the circulatory problems in her legs became worse.  They were planning to do surgery on her legs and in the process of testing discovered the non-functional kidney and a partially blocked renal artery on the other side.  They decided they needed to place a stent in the renal artery that was partially blocked before trying to deal with the leg issue.  When they anesthetized her for that surgery, she had a heart attack.  Her blood pressure bottomed out, but the pacemaker kept her heart beating and she survived.  A couple of weeks later, she had a massive stroke, but the pacemaker kept her alive.  She then spent 5 months suffering and requiring total care.  In the end, because the circulatory problem in her legs hadn’t been dealt with, she developed gangrene.  I was caring for her in my home, and I kept her totally doped up on narcotics so that she didn’t feel the pain.  If she had been in a nursing home, there would have been more suffering and huge expense for care of lesser quality than I offered.

My Dad lived to be 90 enjoying woodworking in the basement until the last 2-3 years.  He was only in a nursing home the last 6 days of his life. My father-in-law worked until he was 96, and only required help the last 6 months.  He ran a charity that provided simple irrigations systems to bare subsistence farmers in undeveloped areas of the world right up to those last 6 months.  My husband is 77.  He still runs, plays pickleball and serves on several boards.

I now live in a retirement community, and I can’t believe the productivity and creativity I see around me.  There are some amazing musicians here…people who are still performing and arranging.  There are so many artistic endeavors that a fantastic new arts center is under construction.  There are people who go off-site to work at various charities….one of those is a home for boys who have bombed out of foster care.  An inventors’ club was recently started.  Women in Knitters Anonymous create items for 7 different charities.  Retired ministers go off-site to preach in local churches.  Of course, there are people in the skilled nursing and memory care units or those who sit in their apartments aimlessly, but the place is also a beehive of activity.  Many are still making a significant impact past the age of 75.

I think as we age, we have an obligation to weigh our decisions carefully as to how much medical intervention we seek.  We may not want to ever be on life support, but how many pills would one have to take before they ended up qualifying as “life support?” 

My concern is if we ever reach a point where the government or a panel of its “experts” make decisions for us after we are 75.  Or suppose instead of our thoughts being taken into account, children…even those from whom we may be estranged…get to make decisions.  Women have a right to terminate their unborn children.  Will children ever have the right to terminate their parents? 

Will the government have a right to deny care to those over 75?

Will we be obligated to have a big 75^th birthday celebration because it is planned to be our last?

Vitriol

 The sweet façade sometimes cracks,

And what pours out is vile.

Angry words spew forth

Splashing everyone in sight.

 

The rage felt toward one person,

Turns abruptly to others,

Who stand confused, as the acid

Lands and eats into their souls.

 

The great roiling pot of vitriol

Lies beneath the surface,

Waiting for an opportunity.

Do you feel better afterward?

 

How do you manage to shrug it off?

To feel justified in the rage,

The pain you inflict,

The wounds ever deepening?

 

Do you not know, the searing liquid

Puddles around your own feet,

Bounces back on your own face,

Scars you and those you claim to love?

 

When will you outgrow this?

Will you rage into the grave,

Trying to hurl your burning spit

Into the face of God Himself?