It's time to dump this ditty

"Chew the meat and spit out the bones" is a saying we get used to hearing in church about preaching.  

It's time to get rid of it and purify the preaching.  Why?

  Bones are for the dogs; the church is the Bride of Christ. How pleased Christ must be to know some man--under the guise of preaching--is throwing bones to His bride!

The Great Dearth

No, it's true. I've been AWOL as far as the blog goes.  Today can be a tidbit day.

We continued school through mid-July and in spite of my  best plans to go all summer, we had to stop for about 6 weeks.  Life simply gets busy from mid-July to late August.  We are back in the swing of things minus a couple of subjects since I still have books I need to get.

I ran through the gamut of emotions regarding putting Sarah in real kindergarten.  I had the anxiety, the guilt, the fear, the sadness of my baby being old enough to go to school--but in the end, putting her there is the best thing for her.  She qualifies for 90 minutes of  speech therapy a week and I would be cruel not to do everything in my power to get her there.  

Kindergarten.  Days 1 and  were awesome.  Day 3 was horribly terrible.  She didn't want to talk about it.  Except she did get to play in the gym for a little bit--but otherwise it was unspeakable torture.  She had to write.  Well, at first, she confided in her sisters that she had to do math but this morning I learned it wasn't the math.  It was the writing and writing is hard.  I consoled her by telling her that Lego engineers have to know this stuff if they want to design kits. 

I finally took the plunge and joined a gym.  This has been in the back of my mind for about 5 years.  Something continued to hold me back but I've taken the plunge and I know what was keeping me away-- three rules of my religion

Rule 1: If you can't do it modestly in a dress or culottes, then you should not do it.
Rule 2: Like mixed swimming, mixed exercise should be avoided because your exercise actions could cause a man to lust and that would be sinning against him.
Rule 3: You should never workout with a man who is not your husband or brother or father.  That might lead someone to think that you were doing something inappropriate.

Let's talk about these, shall we?

1. I am overweight.  I gained about 20 pounds last year alone.  Seriously.  I tried walking, but I'm struggling with vicious plantar fasciitis right now and walking leaves me wishing I could just amputate my foot.  If I want to lose weight, I really don't have a choice outside a gym.  I have to put that silly rule aside and just do it, as Nike would say.

2. I am NOT responsible for a man's thoughts any more than I am responsible for the weather.  I am not at the gym to pick up guys.  I have no interest in talking to anyone there beyond the trainers.  I have a goal to reach and that is between the Lord and me.  I'm dressed modestly for the gym.  I'm not in shorts and exercise bra. I have a nice pair of capris and a shirt.  The men have to deal with their own demons.

3.  My trainer is teaching me ways to reach my goal.  He is a teacher.  He shows me how to perform the exercise and corrects me when I'm wrong;  he provides an example, and if necessary adjusts the exercise to suit my state.  We exercise in the middle of the room where there are people all around watching and listening to us. 

I understand that those 3 rules are extremely silly but they were there.  They were deeply ingrained in me.  The fact that I could set the silliness aside is a huge step forward.  The fact that I can admit it is even bigger.  

There's a lot more, but I have to write a history test.  I will try to get back here a little more frequently now that school's back in.

Portland Traffic

I hate Portland area traffic.  I think my biggest issue is that no one knows how to merge.  Merging isn't rocket science and EVERYONE can do it well if they follow a couple of simple rules.

1.  If your lane is not the merging lane, be nice and make sure merging traffic has room to merge ahead of you. Then, hold your speed steady.   Don't be a jerk and speed up to close the gap.  That's just rude and you are not *that* important.

2.  If your lane is ending, for safety's sake, DO SOMETHING DIFFERENT!  Don't match the speed of the car you want to merge in front of.  Don't expect them to slow down or stop traffic for your bumbling incompetence.  Adjust your speed.  Adjust your speed.  Get in and don't slow down unless the vehicle in front of you is slowing...get in and match traffic.  Yes, that means you cannot dawdle about your day.  

What I'm saying, Portland, is learn to merge.  There won't be as many traffic backups because everyone will be playing nice.

Another thing I hate about Portland area traffic is this bad habit people have of driving like they've never seen sun the first sunny day after a long bout of rain.  The driving behavior is bad.  The converse is true, they drive as if they've never seen rain when it rains after a bout of dryness.

I swear that traffic here could be much better if we just learned to merge properly and we quit acting like the world was ending with weather changes. 

Something to say

It would be great if there were something to say.  If I--or anyone--could reach in and pull out something profound to suddenly make this tragedy make sense I would.  

Instead, every thought I have of the family is one full of profound grief.  It is a fist squeezing my heart emptying it of its life.  It's the thought of birthdays and loose teeth and bicycle rides and proms and graduations that will never happen.  It's the thought of a mom/grandma suddenly bereft of what she loved so much.  It is the thought of empty places at family gatherings.  

There is no sense in something like this.  

The world has gone mad.

Oh yes, I know Christ is there.  My heart cannot form the words for a prayer though.  It can only weep. 

Pray for my family

Family Of Slain Mother, 2 Granddaughters Speaks Out | Local News - KMBC Home

Some days, some times, life has a way of coming to screeching halt leaving you shaking and full of grief so deep that you stand stunned.  You try to think of something to say, but even in the very depths of your heart you find there are no words adequate to the situation.  In fact, as you think over the situation, you know that there will never be words.  There will be looks and sighs and tears and memories.

Rod is leaving in a few hours to attempt to speak those words that aren't there to his sister who is enduring unspeakable grief. 

If you read this, say a prayer for the family.  I don't care really if you stumble upon this blog 2 or 5 years from now.  This is a grief that will never fully go away. 

And, if you know someone who is in a domestically violent situation, please do what you can to save a life. Or three. 

And, if YOU are in that situation, please, do not become a statistic.  Leave.  Get help.  There are places to go where you can be safe.

Pediatric Stroke Awareness Month

If you go HERE, you can click Blog on their green navigation bar.  Once you click that, you will be taken to a page.  On the right hand side of the page, you can click "meet our kids."  You can read several stories of children who suffered from strokes.

Pediatric Stroke Awareness Month blogs

Today I think you should meet Jaden and his mommy.

Jaden's Story

Pediatric Stroke Awareness Month, blog 1

This is a new blog.  I encouraged her to share her journey through blogging because she has such great trials with her little guy, but then she turns around and has stupendous moments with him.  I know she isn't alone in her journey, but maybe someone in this great big internet world is.  

Blessings of Benaiah

I'm just going to post links to blogs about pediatric strokes here and there through this month.

First though, a video that features some of the children who are affected by strokes. I will be honest: I am slightly partial to Benaiah who you will see twice.

Not a fan of Obama, but a fan of really??

I may have had just about enough of using photo ops for judging a man's ability to be President.  All of the interested parties are doing it though.  Republicans have pictures of Obama's photo op gaffs; Democrats have pictures of Bush's photo op gaffs.  They happen not because a man is mentally unfit but because he is human and the photographers are not paying enough attention to the staging.  

It is unjust to compare a man to a man as well because not all men were raised the same the way. 

You must judge a man's fitness to be in office based upon who he is as a whole; not who he is compared to other men.  

This is a biblical judgment.  II Corinthians 10:12--For we dare not make ourselves of the number, or compare ourselves with some that commend themselves: but they measuring themselves by themselves, and comparing themselves among themselves, are not wise.

Fellow Believers, use just judgment and not the emotional dregs in making your decisions.

I home school my children.  Let me tell you about that a little.

1. I do not teach that the world is flat.

2. I do not teach the sun revolves around the earth

3. I do not teach that every term not found in the King James version of the Bible is "of the devil."

Modern science is NOT an enemy. 

Not the easiest decision

My friend does a lot of things for a disabled lady and when the going gets tough, I help her out.

Our disabled lady is in a foster care home right now and has been for five months or so.  Her husband is disabled and is in a different foster care home.  In the meantime, she has been paying rent on her apartment so their cats would have their home.  It was the best she knew to do for them.

Tuesday, my friend showed me a picture she had taken of one of the kitties, and we decided that Lady needed to make a decision about what to do for kitty and that we would meet at her care home Wednesday to discuss it with her.

Friend called me and told me she was going to stop by the apartment before we met to see if she could get a better photo of kitty.  When I arrived, she called me into her vehicle to see the new picture.  This picture showed that Lady no longer had a decision to make.  Kitty had to be in care immediately.  It was now just a matter of telling Lady the hard stuff in the middle of a lot of other hard stuff.

Oh mercy.  We left her a very grieved woman, but before we left to take care of kitty she gave permission to euthanize if that was best. 

We got to the apartment and got kitty into the pet carrier, but not before I saw how much worse the kitty was than the picture showed.  I took her to the vet who wasn't really thrilled about having her and Vet kept mentioning about other cats scheduled for surgery and she couldn't do anything but give her antibiotics.  What?  Automatic surgery? Really? How about just looking at kitty and telling me what your opinion is about her outlook?  Isn't that an option?  (I do not like that Vet.)

Kitty's prognosis was pretty grim so I had to make the call to have her put to sleep.  I called my friend with the news and a short discussion about money sources ensued.  She called Lady and I gave the go ahead to put kitty to sleep. 

If I never have to do that again for someone, it will be way too soon.  I woke up a couple of times in the night thinking that maybe I had made the wrong decision.  Well, after talking myself down from doubt, I do know, in the corner of head, that I did the right thing, the compassionate thing.

It's hard enough when you have to choose to euthanize your own cat.  Let's make it worse by leaving a disabled woman grieving for her loss and wondering if she was the reason kitty had to die.

Ugh.  Sometimes, compassion is very rewarding; sometimes it stinks.

Celtic Woman: LIVE

Celtic Woman came to town.  We were able to get tickets to make sure that Tabitha would have something she would never forget.  If you aren't familiar with Celtic Woman, let me show you my favorite.  This one is sheer fun to me.  To see it live last night was amazing.  If you have never seen their pixie fiddler, watch her antics here.  The lights, the sound, the performance, and the spirit were well worth the money.  The pure joy of my daughter made it priceless.  

Parents, take your kids to something amazing that they will never forget. 

Spring!

I think we had an extremely wet winter.  I think March was incredibly wet.  The snow that fell the first day of spring was disheartening.  We'd wanted that snow in February when life was dragging and in need of a change.  

But now it's April.  We had an Easter weekend full of sunshine.  The sun was delectable and we ate it up.  Then the rain came back to us. 

If you knew how utterly weary I was of the rain and cold you'd understand the depths of my despair when the drops began to fall.

Then, I took a deep breath and smelled it.  I smelled Spring.  There is a beautiful difference in the smell of Spring rain.  It's refreshing.  The winter rains drag on and have nothing special to commend them.  The spring rain smells like life.

Another hunt

We are on a house hunt.  We need some acreage for the dogs.  Lugnut is simply not a people person.  He needs some distance from the neighbors.  We've tried rehabilitation, but when he seems to be making great strides, he suddenly takes a huge scary leap backwards.

I want a laundry room.  A real laundry room with space in it to work.  Yes.  That'd be lovely.  I also want a real mud room where the dogs can sleep away from my washer and dryer.  I want a kitchen that is appropriate for dealing with meals with a large family and I'd like it to open into the dining room so that I can stage what's going on and monitor progress.

We want an extra bedroom so that we can split the girls up and maybe they can keep their bedrooms neater.  Or at least we would know who the real slob is.

We have looked at several homes.  Most of them have been serious disappointments.  One of them we all loved, but they got an offer on it.  So, we wait.  And we keep looking.  Somewhere out there is the place where we can finish raising our children.

And have chickens.  And maybe a couple of goats.

The Hunt

We have an epidemic here in this house.

Rats.  We have no idea how many.  We see the damage.  The rubber strip on the bottom of the garage door has been chewed.  Dog food bags have been decimated.  The dogs going insane around the outdoor fridge when mother rat is up in there somewhere.  And the insanity of when they know she's at the hole under the slab.

Then, there are the snap traps licked clean of peanut butter AND bacon in spite of the lightest trigger ever set.  Then, we bring in the glue traps.  Baited with irresistible bacon, we catch the one from the garage. The dog food bags are left alone.  We seem to smell victory.

But alas!  The dog food bags are attacked again.  We wonder how many more there could be.  Rod moves stuff around the garage to look for the entry point and we find a huge, disgusting mess.  Unfortunately, it is ten pm and I'm not going to clean it up until the next day.  Thankfully, by the next morning, most of the work had been done for us.  The critters had been very busy.  

I set a glue trap in front of their hole.  It snags 3--yes, count them, 3-- juveniles.  One escapes before Rod can get the trap out.  I set another glue trap down, but I nail it into the dirt.  I catch 3 more.  This is a total of 6 juveniles.  I set the next glue trap out and nail it down.  I check it later, and it has been pulled in to the hole and covered in dirt.  Those sneaky demons.  

I take a trip to the feed store and get 2 pounds of poison.  I set 1/4 of the first pound down in front of the hole; I set the second 1/4 in front of the garage entry point.  Both are taken.  I set a third 1/4 down and it disappears.  For good measure, I put one more 1/4 pound of bait in front of the hole.  Of course, being greedy little things, they take it.

Then it becomes a waiting game.  I set a few bits of dog food outside the hole.  It disappears.  I set a few more out the next day; they too disappear.  Today, five days after the original  1/2 pound of bait, I set a few pieces out.  Six hours later, the pieces sit where I tossed them.  This, to me, is a very good sign.  

I'll not congratulate myself, however, until I've dumped some bacon at the hole and that stays uneaten. 

A new blog worthy of reading

Amy's blog of discovering the blessings of being single

That is all.

Thinking at 4 am

I've heard this saying, "More is caught than taught" for many years from many preachers.  I'm beginning to find that I disagree with that. 

Deuteronomy 6:1-9

1Now these are the commandments, the statutes, and the judgments, which the LORD your God commanded to teach you, that ye might do them in the land whither ye go to possess it: 2That thou mightest fear the LORD thy God, to keep all his statutes and his commandments, which I command thee, thou, and thy son, and thy son's son, all the days of thy life; and that thy days may be prolonged. 3Hear therefore, O Israel, and observe to do it; that it may be well with thee, and that ye may increase mightily, as the LORD God of thy fathers hath promised thee, in the land that floweth with milk and honey.

4Hear, O Israel: The LORD our God is one LORD: 5And thou shalt love the LORD thy God with all thine heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy might. 6And these words, which I command thee this day, shall be in thine heart: 7And thou shalt teach them diligently unto thy children, and shalt talk of them when thou sittest in thine house, and when thou walkest by the way, and when thou liest down, and when thou risest up. 8And thou shalt bind them for a sign upon thine hand, and they shall be as frontlets between thine eyes. 9And thou shalt write them upon the posts of thy house, and on thy gates.

Note especially verse 7's command to teach the children diligently.  

We can move directly to Proverbs and read the number of times the author begs his son to hear the teaching that is being given.  Wisdom begs in the streets for us to listen.  

Why am I thinking about this at 4am?  A question about teaching religion to her childrencame up among a group of ladies that I know .  She wants to but she doesn't know how to.  It was a good question and it made me think.

We can stand all day and tell our children the "what's" of our religion, but that cannot accomplish what we want.  Our children will rebel over constant "what's."  They will never understand the heart of Christ if they only have the "what's."  If you give them the "why's" behind the "what's" you help them see Christ.  You help them know how to know God.  

When the Christian life was still new to me, I was taught that asking why was a form of rebellion.  What I am learning is the asking why and getting a good answer enhances understanding and allows me to follow with my heart.  

I've been watching so many young people turn away from the faith of their fathers and I've sought a long time for answers.  I have a couple of reasons, I think.  One reason is that we don't have their hearts.  Another reason is that we expect obedience without knowledge.  

But maybe those two reasons are parts of the same puzzle piece.  Maybe we don't have their hearts because we aren't taking the time it requires to teach them why.

Friend

Sarah is involved in the local early intervention program for her speech issues.  The school she attends has children with various issues ranging from speech to autism of varying degrees.  Of the several things that I like, one in particular stands out.

This is the use of the word "friend" when the teachers are talking about any of the students.  They will walk in to the classroom and cheerily say, "Good morning, Friends!"  They will try to cheer up an unhappy child by saying, "Oh, there are our friends! Let's go see them!"  It isn't unusual for them to point to another child and simply help the child they are working with to acknowledge the other child by saying something like, "Oh look! There is our friend, Johnny! Let's say, 'Hi, Johnny!'"  

This is a very powerful word.  This word creates a calmness  in some very intense situations.  Granted, the teachers are almost saints with the patience they have with these kids, but "friend" is such a perfect word.

Imagine what Jesus did for us in John 15:15--Henceforth I call you not servants; for the servant knoweth not what his lord doeth: but I have called you friends; for all things that I have heard of my Father I have made known unto you.

He calls us friends. 

Have you been there?

Sometimes we look at Bible characters and we judge them as making the wrong decision based upon what we believe we would have done in the same situation or based upon some assumption we have made regarding their situation that the Bible never really tells us.  I'm thinking particularly about Naomi right now.

Naomi went to Moab with her husband and sons; her sons married Moabite women while they were there.  The three men subsequently died.  Naomi is left alone with two daughters-in-law.  She is broken and sad.

Now we can assume that she was part of the decision making process in going down to Moab; the Bible never tells us that and there is a good chance that in that era she had no say in the matter.  Her husband and sons made the decision; the woman followed.   It is as much a possibility that she knew they shouldn't go but the decision was made.  Yet, here we are, centuries later, telling her she shouldn't have gone.  Let me say that until you have been in her position, you cannot say that she did wrong in going.  It may be that she submitted to the decision as she was supposed to and the end was in God's hands.

Then, her husband and sons die.  Her heart is broken and she's in a strange land with no family.  She urges her daughters-in-law to stay with their people.  We are quick to get after her for that; have we bothered to think that she knows how lonely it is to live in a land full of people that are not your own?  Have we regarded that she is going back to Israel not knowing how she is going to eat or where she is going to sleep?  If she isn't going to be able to take care of herself, how will she care for another?  

We then get after Orpah for going home.  Why?  Perhaps she understands the depths of Naomi's loneliness and knows that the same will be her lot.  

Ruth left her home.  We do not know what kind of home Ruth came from; we do not know how much better her life may have been with Naomi.  Whatever was behind the scenes, we do know that Naomi had something in her that caused Ruth to choose her over her own people.  Can we then, in all honesty, call Naomi's faith into question?  

Naomi gets home and asks that people call her Mara for her life has been very hard.  We say her attitude is wrong and that she should be more joyful.  If you have never been under intense and drawn out heartache, you have no idea how that heartache changes you. It sobers you. It makes you more introspective.  The pain is real and it's there.  You don't get over it because it changes your thought processes.  The name change is merely a record of these changes that Naomi will never forget.  

I contend that Naomi was not as unspiritual as we like to make her out to be.  Ruth found enough in her to follow her to a land of people that had been taught to hate her.  Naomi was doing something well.