Grace Notes

Tithing Takes Less Trust Than Taxes

2010-02-12T10:04:00.004-05:00

Why would I gladly tithe 10% of my income to God while protesting against the >25% tax the government levies, especially when the tithe cannot be enforced?

Although the difference in percentages does annoy me (who wants to pay a higher percentage for anything?), that is not my main complaint. And for my atheist and agnostic friends, let’s set aside any and all arguments over whether or not there really is a God who may or may not deserve my money. The reason for my preference for tithing is shockingly simple.

Tithing takes less trust than taxes. And I trust very little.

Let’s do a simple hypothetical analysis.

Suppose I file a gross income tax return of $50,000.00.

The federal government has determined that we should consequently be taxed at 25% – which works out to be $12,500.00. The state has also determined that I should pay 7%, which works out to be $3,500.00.

The tithe is a flat “God-tax”. No matter how much you make, it is always 10%. My God-tax works out to be $5,000.00.

Both the government and God collect from each paycheck.

I have no personal contact with the tax collector. They are anonymous, and report to someone that I not only do not know but do not ever want to know.

I see the person who collects the God-tax every week. I know where they live. I enjoy their company.

I am not allowed to dictate where my money goes. The government spends my taxes on programs that I am often ethically opposed to, find morally reprehensible, flat-out impractical or not even something they should be involved in.

The God-tax goes exactly where I want it to go: to support programs and principles I am ethically bound to obey, morally above reproach, of necessity practical in the extreme, and which always falls within its jurisdiction.

While I theoretically have a representative in government to determine how my tax money is spent, my preferences (and any other citizens) may be overruled by the whim of that representative, a majority vote by those who disagree with my values, or the mandate of a judiciary who may or may not hold the same values as me.

If the God-tax is not spent the way I believe it should be spent, I send it to somewhere I know it will be spent according to my values.

The God-tax rate never changes. It is always 10%, no matter how much I earn or how much my net-worth is. This leaves me more money to give to other socially beneficial causes.

The government tax increases disproportionately as my income increases, and my net worth is calculated into the equation. This leaves me with far less money to give to other socially beneficial causes. It also makes me want to earn less, run up debt, and let someone else pay for my needs. The government also taxes me on almost everything I buy (some foods being the sole exception), and taxes me annually on my transportation and my housing.

If I refuse to pay the government tax or pay less than the government has dictated, it will send the IRS to harass me at best or prosecute me and even jail me. It makes me want to dress up like an indian, march aboard ship and dump a whole bunch of tea into the ocean. Oops, wrong century. I'll just grab a rifle and revolt like...oh wait, same wrong century. Well dang, you'd think there'd be a constitutional amendment or something to let me express how I feel! Maybe the 2nd?

If I don’t pay the God tax….nothing happens. At least nothing happens in the physical realm, although that whole conscience thing might bother me. That makes God a gentleman. I like gentlemen. I’m much more willing to cooperate with gentlemen. I’ve never wanted to revolt against the God-tax.

If I can't pay the government tax, it will take away everything I own and then tell me I should be grateful for the welfare check and food stamps. See earlier reference to dressing up like an indian.

If I can't pay the God-tax...well, actually, I've never heard of anyone who couldn't pay the God tax simply because the God-tax is only on income (never on property or purchases), is only always 10%, and if you don't have income you don't owe the God-tax. In fact, God or the people who collect the God-tax go out of their way to make sure you have enough to eat, wear and a place to live even if you don't believe in God or pay the God-tax.

As I pointed out before, the God-tax is of necessity practical in the extreme. If a program does not have enough money, the program gets shut down. If a program fails to meet the expected goals, it is shut down. If the leadership of the program is responsible for it's poor performance, the leadership is replaced or the program is shut down.

The government tax is poured into programs that are routinely “under-funded” and which run up massive quantities of debt. This in turn increases the total amount of tax that the government passes on to me. If a program fails to meet the expected goals, the goals are expanded. If the leadership of the program is responsible for it's poor performance, the leadership blames their predecessors and the program is expanded.

The God-tax rate is 10% whether I am married or single.

The government tax rate increases if I’m married filing jointly as opposed to shacking up with someone I'm not married to. Besides being fundamentally unfair, it is also a strong deterrent to marriage. This is rather counter-intuitive because millennia have proven that the destruction of marriage leads to the destruction of the nation. But no one ever accused the government of being thoughtful or intelligent.

The God-tax is audited by an independent auditor every year. Even if God didn’t keep his tax-collectors honest, the rest of us would.

The government refused to acknowledge the right for the people to have an independent audit.

The government tax pretends it is my money used for the benefit of the whole community. I have yet to receive a non-work related "benefit" from any government that didn't cost me twice what it was worth and wasn't theirs to give me in the first place.

God tells me flat out that it is His money, but his tax collectors turn around and spend it on tangible local needs before using it to cover additional needs for His kingdom. God never personally hoards any of His money and is in fact remarkably generous in giving me more.

I could go on and on, but I think you get my point. But perhaps the most salient point is supported by a little analysis of the government taxes and God-taxes I paid last year.

Last year my God-tax went to support over 40 children in a orphanage, started a second orphanage, funded an adoption assistance program, contributed to the salaries of over 200 missionaries who are doctors, teachers, engineers and other-wise providing basic human services, funded a food pantry, provided assistance to more than 3 local widows/elderly couples who were in desperate need, paid the salaries of 3-5 full-time administrative staff (depending on the time of year), provided church building maintenance, helped pay down a building loan of less than $2,000,000.00, funded educational programs, after school programs, a drug and alcohol recovery program, a program to assist ex-convicts in reintegrating into society, and helped support a financial management program.

Last year my government tax went to pay less than one second of interest on trillions of dollars of debt. And the government is running up more debt to pay for programs I neither want, need, or could be paid for more efficiently.

And that is why I say,

Tithing Takes Less Trust Than Taxes.

Put your trust in God, not government.

Planting, and Other Things

2010-01-17T07:01:00.003-05:00

We planted 17 trees on Friday, all low-chill requirements, as many self-fertile as possible. There were 4 citrus trees that grew from the seeds spit out into the garden in 2008. Who knows what they'll turn out to be, but there are always more where they came from! Also, Anna Apple, Dorsett Golden Apple, Blenheim Apricot, Sunred Nectarine, FlordaKing and June Gold Peach, Sugar Pear, Blue Damson Plum, Wonderful Pomegranate (listed as a tree, but really a bush), Garden Prince Almond, 2 American Filberts because Jim LOVES them, and a Kansas Sweet Cherry.

There was just enough space on the east side of the drive way in front of the house to fit them all. I am more than mildly concerned about the ravages of deer, prompting a visit to the local Feed & Seeds and hardwared store to price electric fencing.

I bought some seeds for the border along the road in front of the fence: Moonflower to open when the Confederat Jasmine closes at night. Hollyhock to dress up the fence posts. Poppy, Agastache "Pink Pop", Candytuft, and Aubrieta. You no doubt will recognize all but the Moonflower as perrenials. Originally, I had planned on putting lavendar out front, but the seedlings were devoured by something each of the three separate attempts. I know when to wave the white flag. Perhaps I shall do some planting on Monday.

The house proceeds apace. We got an estimate on what it would cost to remove the wheels, axels, and tongue from the house (not enough to make it worth suing the county for false inspection, and too much to actually do it). We also got an estimate for repairing the master bathroom...and will now have to send that in to the insurance company, which originally determined that the cost of repairs would only be half of what the estimate projects.

Something has moved into the heating ductwork over the last couple of weeks and "entertains" us with running around during the hours of darkness. You would think Kitty (who returned to being a housecat during our latest brush with "Global Warming" and sub-freezing temperatures) would try to catch it. She has proven herself a mighty hunter in the past. She runs to the opposite side of the house whenever this thing rumbles through the ductwork.

We have agreed that we will not put any more of our own money into this house that we cannot take with us to a new house. But I have successfully plastered and painted the third bedroom, and need only to touch up the trim and give the walls a second coat before moving all of Jim's exercise equipment and work equipment into it. Then I will have a real guest room again! Of course, there are still no carpets or any other kind of flooring on top of the particle board, but every minor victory is still a victory.

It rained all day yesterday, and the DITCH IS WORKING! It helps to have posts in the ditch to keep people from running into it and filling it up with dirt...

Top 10 Reasons To Dig A Ditch on New Year's Day

2010-01-04T18:54:00.002-05:00

1. The neighbors in the PUD down the street use your dirt road for mud bogging whenever it rains.

2. The neighbors at the other end of the street lost their bumper in your yard.

3. Your husband's patrol car is rear wheel drive.

4. The neighbor-across-the-street's-ducks think the road is a nice little pond.

5. The county won't do anything about it allegedly because it's a private road (with 35 non-related families). PS - county councilman, I will be calling you...

6. Water runs down hill...and a ditch is normally down hill from a road, except when

7. the other neighbor down the street graded the road into the last ditch you dug.

8. Said neighbor complained about how he'd been fighting the county over this road for 15 years. (Hmmm....)

9. Your husband is trying to recover from working nights on New Years Eve.

10. It's good exercise.

What Are The Odds?

2009-11-14T20:42:00.003-05:00

It was a beautiful day for yard work. I headed outside about 1600 to rake the yard and lay mulch in the garden beds. Around 1645 I walked around the corner of the house to look at my veggie patch, and heard the unmistakable sound of running water.

“That’s odd,” I thought, “I must have left the water on for the soaker hose last week.” (It’s a little scary to admit, but I’ve been forgetting to turn off stove tops and ovens lately.) But the hose was turned off. I checked twice just in case I forgot that I forgot to check.

The sound of running water was louder now, so I bent to peer under the skirting of the house and saw water dripping from the hose where it was connected to the foundation.

I pulled out my handy-dandy blackberry that the love of my life had gotten me for Christmas last year and dialed the man I married for his handyman skills among many other reasons. “Hey Babe,” I told him, “I think the hose connected to the house by the garden sprung a leak.” “It wouldn’t surprise me,” he said, “that’s a bad hose for that connection. You’ll have to crawl under there with a pair of pliers and tighten it.” “Ummm, can you do it?” “Sure, I’ll do it when I get home,” he said with all the enthusiasm of a man who has been up since 0430 and worked 11 hours with two more to go.

I was grateful, since I really didn’t want to crawl under the house and ruin my clothes. But as I put away the gardening tools, I realized that it really wasn’t fair for Jim to work all day only to have to change out of uniform, crawl under the house and get filthy just because I didn’t want to…especially when I had an hour before I had to put dinner in the oven.

So I walked into the house to change into some grungy clothes. The sound of running water got louder. “Did I leave the sink running?” I wondered. No, the kitchen sink was off. The washing machine had stopped, and I switched the load. The sound of running water got louder, but the floor was dry. Puzzled, I went into the Master bedroom. “Wow,” I thought, “The toilet must still be running from earlier.” For clearly the sound of running water was coming from the Master Bath.

And I walked into a centimeter of water on the bathroom floor.

Quick check of the sink – off. Toilet bowl was normal levels, no leaks from the pipes. And the sound of running water was coming from the tub area, only the tub was also off. I ran into the laundry room, which shares a wall with the bathroom, and turned off the washing machine hoses. The water was still running.

So out came the blackberry again. “How do you turn off the well pump?” I blurted when the love of my life answered. Thank God he’s used to me. He talked me through shutting off the well, and sent a friend over to make sure it was done right. Then I got on the phone with the insurance company.

So anyway, here are the pictures.

The problem was a split female threaded coupling that goes onto the male threaded nipple of the cold water feed. (Wow, I said that like I almost knew what I was talking about.) We had to take apart the tub area completely, and found water settled under the tub. We had to take the tub out to get the water out. And then we found the mold. There was mold everywhere. And here we had been blaming those recruits for the sinus problems all this time. This coupling may have just burst, but it had leaked for a long, long time. The floor under the tub by the outside wall was rotted and gave under my foot. I didn’t stand there long.

“What are the odds,” I asked Jim, “That two completely separate pipes at two different ends of the house would break in exactly the same way within 14 months of each other?” “Pretty high,” he said, “And it will probably happen again.” “Aren’t the home inspectors supposed to catch things like this before you buy the house?” “It would be nice,” he said.

So anyway, today I’m thankful that I heard that leak before the whole bathroom flooded and spilled out into the bedroom. And I’m thankful the pipe burst during the day instead of the middle of the night. And I’m so very, very thankful that we have insurance and that Jim is plumbing capable.

No News

2009-10-03T08:56:00.002-05:00

is good news I suppose.

Either that, or I'm just too darn busy to write anything.

Today is beautiful...around 70 in the shade, light breeze, clear blue sky and gentle sunshine. And birds flying around the bird feeder and quarreling int he trees while the cat rubs against my feet on the front porch. I love October in Beaufort.

I finished transplanting the brussel sprouts into the garden. The cabbage and turnips are thriving where the beans and potatoes merely survived or didn't survive long in the case of the beans thanks to the deer. Apparently deer like sweet potatoes much better than cabbage and turnips, because the sweet potatoes are regularly cropped. So are the peanuts. When I told Jim about the peanuts, he announced, "Now I'm getting angry." You don't mess with that man's nuts.

Speaking of deer, I was walking out the door for work Wednesday morning around 7:15, complaining to Jim about the most recent rash of devastation. There stood a 5-foot-10-inch-at-the-head doe, just outside our fence and less than 50 yards away. She didn't move, just looked at us. That particular problem was shortly and abruptly resolved.

I've adopted a new lifestyle, which will shortly make me the most beautiful and healthiest woman in the family. Well, healthiest anyway. The smartest was never a question (snicker).

1. Sleep 8 hours a night. Seriously, this is the most important thing in the world.

2. Eat more carbs. A bowl of raw oatmeal with raisins and slivered almonds for breakfast, along with at least three pieces of fruit per day, followed by rice/pasta/potatoes with a little veggies and meat for lunch, followed by rice/pasta/potatoes with a little veggies and meat for dinner. Add a slice of the most delicious 11-grain Whole Grain bread for desert. I do still eat some eggs every once in a while. I eat less chicken and more beef and fish too.

3. NO CAFFEINE! I mean NO CAFFEINE! It was miserable coming off that addiction. I would recommend a whole week vacation devoted to sleep and low-impact, moderate exercise if you try this because your brain will feel like mush, you'll feel like you don't have any energy, you'll burst into tears for no reason, everything will irritate you, and your head will feel like someone is using a jack-hammer just behind your right ear. I had to quit cold turkey. I tried going half caff and then decaff, but the step down program was sabotaged by the number of cups I was drinking. Now I drink caffeine free tea which actually tastes a lot better than the coffee anyway.

4. NO SUGAR. None. Nada. Zip. It pretty much has the same effect as caffeine.

5. A multi-vitamin a day.

6. Frequent naps on the weekend.

7. A daily walk around the block, or mowing the yard. In other words, gentle, low-impact cardiovascular exercise.

8. I carry my journal with me wherever I go in my "picnic basket" (as Jim calls it). That way I can write down little snippets of interesting things so I don't have to remember them. Of course, the act of writing them down helps me remember them.

9. Lots of water.

So far I've gained 5 pounds and kept it! Hooray! I've never felt better when I'm awake than I do now. And Jim was complimenting my behind the other day too.

Hmmmm...either that's sinus pressure building up behind my eyes or I need to go take a nap. Nap it is!

Good bye Tom Cat

2009-07-19T19:36:00.002-05:00

Tom disappeared about two days ago. He simply didn't show up for feeding.

Then two days later (Friday) he was lying on the porch next to the water bowl, but he was clearly feeling very poorly. He wouldn't drink any water, and he wouldn't touch the food. I was going to bring him into the house, but he crept under the house.

He stayed under the house all day yesterday and almost all day today. When Jim was out washing the car, he staggered out and meowed pitifully. There was a brown discharge coming out of his mouth, and he could barely move.

We called the vet and took him in. The first question the vet asked was if he could have possibly gotten into any anti-freeze. It's a strange time of year for people to be changing antifreeze, he said, but this is what they see most often in these types of cases. He would have to do a blood draw to see what the prognosis was.

So we went home and waited. The vet called at 7:40. Tom's kidneys had completely shut down, symptomatic of something ingested - most probably antifreeze. There was nothing he could do. So we did the most humane thing we could.

Good bye Tom. You were one heck of a puppy cat. I will miss the way you followed me around and the way you talked back to me. I will miss your play and companionship.

They're BAAACK!!

2009-07-11T08:13:00.002-05:00

Right after the depredation license expired.

***********************************************

A neighbor came to us asking for work on July 2nd. He hadn't had any in over a week, he said. He'd roof the back of the house for $250.00.

Woohoo! Yes! Sold! Come tomorrow in the afternoon.

So we went to Lowes and purchased the roofing the next morning. The neighbor came at 1200 to see how Jim wanted things done and left for lunch. We waited. And waited. And waited.

At 1600 Jim hauled all the roofing material up the ladder and onto the roof.

At 1730 Jim started driving nails.

About 1830 the neighbor came hurrying across the yard.

He'd had to go into town to pay some bills and buy groceries he explained. Then he took about six five-minute smoke breaks over the next hour and a half while he told us what a fast worker he was.

"I'll be back at 6:00 in the morning," he said.

"No," Jim told him, "I'll be sleeping. I changing over to nights. I can't have banging on the roof. Come in the afternoon."

"I start cooking for a party at 8:30 and we'll be doing that all day," Neighbor said. "I'll come on Sunday."

"I don't work Sunday," Jim told him.

So the neighbor went to his 4th of July party, and I went to work and came back, and Jim roofed the house on the 4th of July.

And the deer slept in my garden while the fireworks exploded over Parris Island.

I walked out the front door Sunday morning to see my corn trampled, lying flat on the ground. "They bedded down in your garden", Jim pointed out to me as we left for church - five days after my hunting license expired.

Sunday evening Jim put the finishing touches on the roof. He went over Monday night before work to pay the neighbor a little something (quite well, really) for his hour and a half of showing up.

"I thought you didn't work on Sunday," the neighbor accused him.

On Thursday Jim around 1500 and went outside to put a stockade fence across the front of the yard. He also dug a ditch for the water to flow into when the rain turns the sandy dirt road into swamp.

A different neighbor down the road stopped on his evening drive into town. From my limited contact with him, he's a "my-daddy's-been-heer-two-hunnert-years-and-I-know-everathin-and-hate-N*-(black people)" good-ole-boy.

"You gonna make a compound?" he asked. "Something like", Jim agreed amiably (for him) as he pounded yet another post.

Neighbor #2 didn't like the ditch either. He's been "grading" the road with his tractor after every storm for years, trying to smooth out the ruts and potholes and consequently filling in the ditch that was dug twenty-plus years ago.

Apparently we newcomers just don't fit in.

Bah, Humbug!

Do you understand your rights?

2009-07-05T12:50:00.002-05:00

You have the right to go to Hell if you want to. Your right to go to Hell will be exercised upon death and granted by the Judge according to your choice.

The right to go to Heaven is restricted to those who meet the minimum criteria of perfection. You may choose perfection by proxy through the Court-appointed Advocate.

You have the right to a life-trial by a perfect Judge who never makes mistakes. Everything you think, say and do can and will be used against you by the Judge. You do not have a right to a trial by a jury of peers. Your peers are disqualified from jury duty since they are all idolaters, profane, disrespectful, sexually immoral, liars, thieves, murderers, and covetous in their minds and/or their physical actions.

You have the right to an advocate before the Judge. Your advocate must be perfect. If you cannot find a perfect advocate among your peers, the Court-appointed Advocate will be made available for you. The Court-appointed Advocate is certified perfect and has already paid all punishment in full for whoever chooses perfection in proxy.

You may choose to refuse the Court-appointed Advocate. The offer of Advocacy is time-restricted to your actual physical life and automatically expires upon death. If at any time or for any reason you refuse this offer of Court-appointed Advocacy, the offer may be withdrawn at the Judge’s discretion. Once you accept the Court-appointed Advocate, you may not choose to advocate on your own behalf or request anyone else to advocate on your behalf. Attempting to advocate on your own behalf or requesting anyone else to advocate on your behalf automatically invalidates any benefits provided by the Court-appointed Advocate.

Do you understand these rights as they have been presented? For clarification, read Romans.

Has It Really Been Three Months?

2009-06-19T20:58:00.002-05:00

Time flies so fast!

The funny thing is that I've been so busy I hardly know what to write.

We put a new roof on the front of the house.

I had to get a depredation license for some deer who demolished my garden, and then didn't have the courtesy to show up after I got the license. Maybe they're psychic?

I went to check on the squash plants that were mysteriously wilting, browning out and dying. I found a brown scum on the stems. When I pulled the scum away I found LARGE grubs (looked an awful lot like the grubs that kill lawns) tunneling through the stems. Only on the squashes mind. Now that I've dealt with that, I MIGHT get something out of the garden. The peanuts seem to be the only things that are absolutely thriving in that particular patch.

Of course the eggplant and tomatoes are growing wild. They love hot humid weather. And I bought all sorts of pepper plants seeing as how the pepper seeds I ordered never made it past 3 inches high. Jalapeno, red, orange, yellow and green bells, chillis... They love it right now too.

The sweet corn never got higher than four feet. Some of it is tasseling already. Some of the popcorn (planted later and wetter) is doing much better.

It's time to seed the pots for the fall garden plants to be transplanted in August. Hard to believe that it's that time already!

And of course it's hurricane season, so I shall spend tomorrow "tightening up" for the potential evac(s). Check list:
- All important docs in waterproof crate ready to go. (Birth/marriage certificates, insurance docs, medical records, etc.)
- Two gallons of potable water per person per day for a week stored. Since it will only be Jim, that simplifies things. Besides which he probably wouldn't be able to make it back down the road-that-becomes-a-river-in-a-gentle-shower.
- Suitcase with a week's worth of clothes packed.
- All outdoor items secured or easily secured.
- Flood insurance purchased. Wind insurance was mandatory.
- Scout out people who wouldn't mind driving a truck to Augusta for me in the event...
- Hotel selected and on speed dial
- Cat carrier at door and ready to go. Good luck on catching the cats.

The cardinals, chickadees, finches, sparrows and hummingbirds shall have to fend for themselves ITEOH. Somehow I suspect they'll fare a lot better than most two-legged critters.

Oh yeah, the garlic turned out pretty fine for growing this far south. Six cloves produces a good six heads full. The onions...let's not talk about the onions.

In the LORD I put my trust.

2009-03-24T21:16:00.002-05:00

How can you say to my soul, "Flee as a bird to the mountains! For look, the wicked bend their bow. They make ready their arrow on the string, that they may shoot secretly at the upright in heart. If the foundations are destroyed, what can the righteous do?"

The LORD is in His holy temple.
The LORD's throne is in Heaven.
His eyes behold, His eyelids test the sons of men.
The LORD tests the righteous, but the wicked and the one who loves violence His soul hates.
Upon the wicked He will rain coals; fire and brimstone and a burning wind shall be the portion of their cup.

For the LORD is righteous.
He loves righteousness.
His countenance beholds the upright.

Psalm 11

No matter how bad it gets, no matter what "foundations" are destroyed...the LORD is in His holy temple. And He is active even now.

It may be hard to believe, but this world has been through much worse than our current economic crisis, our current disdain for God, and our current personal problems. It went through much worse in our grandparent's generations, and their grandparent's generations before them. And it will become MUCH MUCH worse yet.

"But the LORD is in His holy temple. His eyes behold, His eyelids test the sons of men. The LORD tests the righteous, but the wicked and the one who loves violence His soul hates."

In the everyday, in the turmoil and stress and anxiety, how is He testing me? How is He refining and purifying, sanding and polishing? I am not nearly in Job's shoes, and yet even he cried out in triumph, "When He has tried me, I shall come forth as gold." (Job 23:10) And this is the confidence that I can have, that I am not hated by the Creator of the universe - not because of works of righteousness that I have done, but because of the precious blood of the Lamb who loved me and gave Himself for me.

The raining coals, the fire and brimstone and burning wind will never be mine, because that cup was drained to its dregs by the Holy One. The LORD is righteous, and His righteousness is mine. He has freely offered it to me, undeserving for the sake of His love in spite of myself. And so His countenance beholds me.

In the LORD I put my trust.

"Marriage God's Way"

2009-03-22T20:46:00.003-05:00

You know it's going to be a good sermon when the pastor announces that if he isn't preaching what the Bible says, by all means confront him. But if he's preaching what the Bible says and they don't like it, take it up with God, not him. (The last time he said that, Jim spent the sermon shaking in silent laughter watching the obvious feminist in the row in front of us react to the sermon on women's roles in the church.)

In reviewing my notes I came to the conclusion that I failed miserably to capture the sermon presentation and style. Sure, I can give you the essence, but you could get that from just reading Ephesians 5:22-33. And Titus 2. And Colossians 3:18, Hebrews 13:17, Genesis 2:18, I Corinthians 11:3, Mark 12:30, Romans 5:10, and Mark 10:45....

Or you can go on-line and listen to it at www.searchthescriptures.org.

The Tell-Tale Genes

2009-03-22T19:33:00.002-05:00

Why yes, my Love IS working nights this weekend. However did you guess?

If I ever dared to question the cookie cutter looks that parental intimacy produced, I have only to look around my home to remind me of just “who I belong to”.

The front yard has been severely mangled. We paid a man to come in and dig out every last one of those bedraggled, ugly, red-tips that lined our drive and the road. I feel quite smug, even though I had nothing to do with operating the mini-back-hoe. I’ve planted the cosmos in a front corner portion along the road, and the rain will wash down the treads in the bare dirt.

In the mean time I am almost half way through my spring planting. The potatoes, sweet corn, beans, beets, celery, carrots, mustard, musk melons, water melons, lettuce, parsnip, rutabagas, turnips and cilantro now reside in a two-week freshly dug bed. I tucked in the asparagus and most of the eggplant tonight in front of the well-house which will one year be surrounded by orchard. I have yet to dig a patch for the leeks, peppers, popcorn, tomatoes and sunflowers. Since that patch is going where a small stand of trees once stood, I anticipate some heavy labor involved with the shovel. Roots wreak havoc on tiller blades. Around about August I’ll get to plant the winter garden, but I really need to hurry up and finish the spring garden first!

As for the house, I began to scrape the popcorn finish off the ceiling in the guest bedroom in preparation for painting. Nasty stuff! Of course I moved everything into the other guest room, and realized that somehow we have accumulated way too much junk. I’m pretty sure I can turn the old rifle range record books into compost, and I probably don’t really need training records from eight years ago.

Sorrow

2009-03-08T05:42:00.002-05:00

"1 a: deep distress, sadness, or regret especially for the loss of someone or something loved."

Sorrow is a strange thing. It can strike at you when you least expect it, mostly because what you least expect happens. Or it can be a steady stream of anticipation, knowing that there are some absolutes that result in agony.

I want to be a wise woman. I want to be a woman who can see the consequences of behavior and act according to the will of God. It will not lessen the sorrow, but it will mitigate it. It will give me the ability to survive and find joy.

You Know You've Been Planting....

2009-02-22T19:26:00.004-05:00

...when your boogers come out black.

Seriously, I've swum through the Quiggly, low crawled through muck like you wouldn't believe, spent weeks in the field without a shower (you can barf later), and laid in the dirt on the rifle range, and never had black boogers.

But just let me near a garden rake, a patch of dirt, and some seeds, and I'm guaranteed to ruin any handkerchief I come near.

Peas, parsnips, carrots and beets outside.

Started inside asparagus (by seed), cosmos, basil, broccoli, cauliflower, eggplant, and tomato.

Makes a great Sunday afternoon.

Conversation with Granny

2009-02-18T21:13:00.002-05:00

"You always just have to take whatever work you have and do your best at it. That's what I always did. Just do your best at whatever job you have....well, there was once job that I didn't like that much."

"What was that Granny?"

"When we had to get up and cut the corn for cattle fodder. Dad would get us out of bed at four o'clock in the morning and we'd go out in the corn fields in the wet and the cold and cut the corn. We would go to bed at eleven and then get up at four. All I wanted to do was crawl in a corn shock and sleep. "

"Why did you have to get up so early?"

"So we could cut the corn while it was still wet, so we wouldn't get sliced by the leaves."

You ever get the feeling that there are a whole lot of stories she could tell that she just doesn't even think about?

I See Edmonton!

2009-02-18T20:39:00.003-05:00

Sometimes a snippet of a phrase from the past comes back to tickle the brain and unleash memories once colorless and flat, but suddenly seething with the NOW.

That old burnt-orange maverick loaded to the roof with four kids under six and a baby, rocking from the bouncing in the back seat to the tune of "I see Edmonton! I see Edmonton!" It's amazing how excited you get when you've been on the road for hours and hours non-stop and the green signs start to say "Edmonton XXX Km".

Of course the undisputed champion of who saw Edmonton first was always number 3. I'm fairly confident that she didn't ACTUALLY see Edmonton first, mostly because she always saw Edmonton more than 60 km away. But she was always the first to announce "I see Edmonton!" I challenged her on this at least once, leading to a very physical exchange of opinions before the hand of authority reached back and temporarily settled the question.

There was the crazy black and orange pattern in the cloth seats, that slowly unraveled over the course of the years as one or the other child would pull on a snag. Who ever thought of woven cloth seats for a car?

Or lying in the back window at night staring up at the stars as we sped silently back to the north woods of beyond nowhere, the chill of the summer night seeping into stocking feet, shivering against the glass despite the heater pumping in the forty degree summer weather. (Those were the days before seat belt laws, my child. I date myself.)

Some nights the star patterns crossed by drifting wisps of clouds illuminated by a blue tinted moon come back to me as clearly as if I were staring at them now, and the hum of the engine reverberates in my bones while hushed voices in the front seat occasionally play counterpoint to the rhythm.

And then there was the arrival home as we untangled ourselves from the back seat, scraping faces on edges of a front seat, whining the distress of waking to cold misery until the front door opened and we could rush into the relative warmth of a house that had been shut down for an absence.

For the life of me, I have absolutely no memories of being tucked into bed, although I know it happened. And I'm sure that these memories are not any one time or any one trip, but a jumbled mass of history haphazardly bundled together to save space. But I enjoy them while they last, for who knows when they will come again with such clarity that surely it was yesterday?

Heartburn

2009-02-18T20:15:00.003-05:00

Valentine's Day - a memorial celebration for a saint who was martyred because he married people against the wishes of the Roman emperor so they wouldn't fornicate. (At least that's the story I was told when I was growing up).

Now people use the holiday as an excuse to fornicate with just about anything living although usually with someone from the opposite sex.

Valentine's Day really, really annoys me...

I LOVE the chocolates and roses and cards and dining out and soft whispers in the ear from my husband that lead to so many married fun activities. It's just that I'm guaranteed never to get these on Valentine's Day.

Don't think my husband a miserable, loveless Scrooge. I'm one of the most reminded wives on earth that their husband loves them. Husband tells me at least five or six times a day and shows me on a regular basis. He definitely gives me anniversary and birthday gifts and little tokens now and then "just because" he was thinking of me.

The problem is that Valentine's Day is a commercialized time for wanton and licentious behavior, right up there with Mardi Gras. And that is his real heartburn with the day, which leads to my real heartburn with the day.

All you people out there, can't you just stop using Valentine's Day as an excuse to fornicate so I can get the roses, card, chocolates and dining out on the killed-because-he-married-people-so-they-wouldn't-fornicate-saint's day? I'd appreciate it!

(We had Valentine's Day a day early...it was wonderful, thank you.)

End of January

2009-02-01T20:20:00.002-05:00

Jake ran away on Thursday. We've lost count of how many times he's done that, but this is the first time he hasn't come back. Either he was shot by the neighbor or the dog officer got him, or.... He was a stray when we got him, and he's a stray again. I'm NOT going to be upset by the faithless pooch.

We got a new septic drain field put in. At last the house is up to code for a 3-4 bedroom, and the plumbing doesn't back up.

I went out and used my new rototiller. Those things aren't exactly fun, but what a USEFUL tool! I did in 10 minutes what took me three days last fall digging with a shovel. I've got my seeds, and I'm ready to plant - whenever I get the time. I need to hurry before the early crop planting season passes by.

In order to put the new drain field in, we had to cut down this monster of a tree. So Jim got that down and another four trees as well and we had a fantastic bonfire. We also had a possum come running out of the fire after we threw some stuff on it. We do seem to attract those things...first the three possums under the night stand in Louisiana, then the one that ran across Jim's foot in the bathroom (same place), and now this one....

The yard looks much, much bigger now. We're debating if we need to put up a fence next or a tool shed so we can actually use our sun room in the spring for something other than storing tools.

Chopped a bunch of greens up for the freezer. Washed up all the lettuce from the garden. Did loads of laundry, baked bread, made a great dinner...this was a wonderful day of rest (seriously!) I'm all revved up for tomorrow and the rest of the week now. We had a great sermon - as usual - at church. I'll post notes later.

Kind of Excited

2009-01-23T18:17:00.002-05:00

We need to get a new drain field installed, and the septic tank pumped. Apparently the people who installed the first one put it down too deep, and slanted it from the tank up towards the surface. So instead of draining into the drain field (hmmmmm), it never leaves the tank. Which would be why we've had the septic system back up three times in as many months.

Jim bought me a rototiller! I LOVE to play in dirt! Now I can do it three times as fast, and it's a REAL rototiller...not a dinky little thing like I had before. I think I'll be tilling up a winter garden here over the weekend.

We also bought a chain saw. TIMBER!

Have you been watching the news? Have you been reading Jihad Watch? The clock is ticking! It will be exciting to see how soon Jesus comes back.

Are you ready? Because if you know how to be saved now and you miss the rapture, there are no second chances. II Thessalonians 2:9-12.

WOW!

2009-01-20T19:27:00.003-05:00

It's SNOWING! Not anything heavy, just a few flakes here and there. But for the very southeast US, that's a big deal. (Some of the local college students called in to ask the teachers if there was going to be a snow day....Sorry, it has to actually stick to the ground for that to be a consideration.)

The real WOW! comes from Sunday School.

We both worked last Wednesday night, so we missed the big news. We were alarmed Sunday morning to have our Sunday School teacher stand up and announce during class, "Most of you already know that I resigned on Wednesday. I have the class lesson prepared but if you want to ask any questions, we can talk about it now."

Our Sunday School teacher just happened to have been (past tense) in one of the upper levels of paid ministry in our church. It was a ministry that he initiated and grew over the past seven years. In our past experience, when a church leader announces that they are resigning from the ministry over family situations, it usually turns out that they a) had an affair or some other lapse into a sin that brings public dishonor to the church , or b) someone was offended by a sermon they preached or a doctrinal position that they held, or c) someone was causing hate and discontent through gossip, slander and other malicious lies.

It turns out that on Wednesday night after a great deal of prayer and seeking godly counsel he stood before the congregation and announced that he was resigning from this position because (drumroll)....

....his oldest daughter had a pattern of making unwise decisions in her life over the last year.

Yep.

She has made a profession of faith, and she continues to fellowship with other believers. She is not outwardly rebellious. She is not even under her father's roof, having reached the legal age of adulthood and moved into her own quarters several miles away. And she maintains respectful, loving, daily contact with her parents and younger siblings. She "just" has a pattern of making unwise decisions - and what those decisions are, are between her, her family and God.

But this man and his wife would rather sacrifice their sole source of income than allow their grown daughter's behavior to dishonor or reflect poorly on their representation of Christ's church.

The family remains close knit and loving despite the very public airing of the failures. They are staying with the fellowship, where they have been embraced and comforted and prayed for. They are continuing to serve in the Sunday School class. But he has resigned his paid position with the church as a leader of ministry and will not seek it again until all danger of adverse association has passed.

Can you imagine the shock this sent to the youth in the church?

Do you have any idea of the shock it sent through out the whole fellowship?

Who could ever believe that something so "minor" could have such drastic consequences? (One of the women in the Sunday School kept asking, "Are you sure that's in the Bible?" Apparently she thought maybe someone had pressured him into resigning. And yes, it's in the Bible. I Timothy 3:2-13; Titus 1:5-9)

It made a huge impression on both of us. We both grew up in churches where the elders and other leaders in the congregation had undisciplined, rebellious, and even pagan children. Yet none of these leaders would have dreamed of stepping down from their position of authority. After all, they were the leaders of the church!

But isn't righteous family living what Christianity is all about? We are adopted into God's family. We are born into the Kingdom of Heaven. We are joint-heirs with the Messiah. We are children of the Heavenly Father, who just happens to be the LORD, the Righteous Judge, the King of Heaven and Earth. And if we would be enraged at dishonor shown to a piece of cloth because it represents our nation, how should we not tremble to dishonor the representation of our Father and our King?

Judgment begins first with the household of God, says the scriptures. And sometimes that judgment falls heaviest on those who our culture would consider to have no right to be involved in our choices...like fathers and mothers of adult children.

But THAT all goes back to a principle that has been viciously maligned and attacked for my entire life, and I'm a bit older than I look, thank you. It goes back to the principle of biblical patriarchy and authority. According to the Scriptures, a wife's behavior brings honor, strength and dignity - or shame and "rotten bones" to her husband. A son's behavior brings honor or shame to his parents. A daughter becomes either a wise woman who retains honor, or a foolish woman who leads many men down to the depths of Hell itself. (Proverbs - the whole book.)

As long as the roles of husband and father and spiritual leader of the home are devalued and held in indifferent or careless regard, we should not be surprised that our youth would also hold the practice of their faith in indifferent, careless regard or low esteem.

When the church begins to practice what the scriptures command...then our children will begin to realize the severity and majesty of our position in Christ. When we once again begin to esteem our husbands and fathers as failed, flawed men who have been entrusted with the highest of sacred duties... When we begin to pray for our patriarchs instead of whining, nagging, or complaining about them... When we have demonstrated that a mere human man is a shadow, a symbol of the Heavenly Father, the King of Glory and the Husband of the Church... then our children will begin to understand the magnitude of their own behavior. Then they will begin to understand the NEED for holy living.

Somehow I think our fellowship has taken a step in the right direction.

This is the BEST Book!

2009-01-18T21:00:00.002-05:00

Grasping God's Word, by J. Scott Duvall and J. Daniel Hays, published by Zondervan.

It's Jim's textbook for the class, Inductive Bible Study. We agree it's the best textbook yet. We don't know a person who wouldn't benefit from reading this book.

And it's easy to read! If you can read and enjoy Immanuel Volekovski or Kenneth Roberts, than you can read and enjoy this book. And if you are a Christian, it's like using real tools to build a house instead of a butter knife and shoe.

Changes

2009-01-10T08:50:00.003-05:00

I am now working two jobs, between 55 to 70 hours per week, which is two more jobs than a lot of people down here right now. So I will not be blogging more that once a week. Maybe.

Jim had to crawl under the house on Christmas day to repair the drain pipe from the front side of the house. It had a U in it due to not being strapped up to the frame, resulting in blockages and sewage backing up into the showers, toilets, and tub. And we pumped the septic tank for the second time in six months, meaning the leach fields are not working. Temporary fixes, but we are now going to build a house instead of fixing this one up. It should only take about five years, approximately the amount of time it will take to finish the adoption. Like everyone else, our house is no longer worth the amount of the loan we owe on it...but we said that when we bought it, kicking and screaming at the greedy people who insisted on making a $30,000.00 profit on something they never did any work to. At least we don't have any other debt.

Adoption Updates: we have submitted more paperwork. We are trying to save enough money to submit for both the home study and the immigration paperwork at the same time. We are almost half way there. And there is more paperwork to fill out in the mean time. (I will copy and paste this last sentence for the next ____ months until after the adoption is completed.)

I have a garden to plot, seeds to order, a yard to rake and a house to clean. Love ya, bye.

HONNK

2008-12-06T11:05:00.004-05:00

So I was sitting on the couch doing my morning devotions when the dog jumped up suddenly and faced the door and barked. (The last time he did that it was after midnight, and I greeted Jim with a loaded pistol as he came in to write up a report.) From outside there came an answering "HONNK!" I went to the bay windows and opened the curtains. Lo and behold....

They had Kitty cornered on the porch, but they ran off quickly enough when I came out to take their picture. It looks like Neighbor John has expanded to peacocks!

Lessons Learned from a Deuce and a Half Model

2008-11-29T22:14:00.002-05:00

Your first model should never be a World War II vintage duece and a half truck that is going to be displayed at the public library.

The model comes in pieces. Without paint. Or glue. Or detailed written instructions.

Aforementioned instructions consist of three lines. "Pieces are numbered. Scrape numbering off pieces before painting. Practice assembly before gluing." It is important to follow the last one in particular.

There is a five page pictogram. It is up to you to figure out which pieces to put together first.

A husband who never reads instructions anyway and a wife who always reads instructions and freaks out over pictograms that don't make sense should never attempt to collaborate on model assembly.

It is time for spouses to cease collaboration on a model when the conversation degenerates to, "This is how most guys learned mechanics when I was a boy." "That explains so much."

Model pieces are often smaller than the connecting plastic holding them to the numbered frame, resulting in warped, broken or otherwise destroyed pieces when you attempt to remove them from the frame.

Razor knives are your friends, especially when pieces don't fit.

Pieces don't fit a lot, especially if they are supposed to go to the engine block or inside the frame. Or on the outside where you can tell something is wrong. Or pretty much anywhere.

Model pieces will be mis-numbered and/or missing from the kit.

You will drop the same piece at least five times, and it will be the smallest piece in the kit.

GI Joe comes in six pieces, and not the pieces you would expect either. (???!!!!)

GI Joe is not anatomically correct, unless he is supposed to look like he took a grenade through the brain housing group.

However, GI Joe will come with a really cool detailed pistol holster and nowhere to attach it.

Super glue is forever.

It is a very bad idea for the dog to nudge you for attention when you are handling superglue. It is an equally bad idea for the cat to jump on your lap when you are handling superglue.

Both the cat and the dog do not know this or do not care.

Superglue does not stick to the microscopic pieces that you have to hold to model with your fingers or tweezers. It will, however, stick to your fingers or tweezers. Refer to early statement of superglue longevity.

You will glue on the roof and the doors to the truck only to discover that the steering wheel has fallen off and needs to be re-attached.

Even a headless GI Joe will not fit in the cab, and the engine will not fit under the hood. Refer to comment about razor knives.

Husbands who are delighted over World War II vintage model trucks are less then enthusiastic over vintage World War II combat expressions voiced by their wives.

I'm pretty sure this was the truck sitting in the back of Motor T at my first unit, waiting to be DRMO'd or cannibalized.

If I didn't have to turn this thing in, I'd do what Jim used to do with his models as a kid...fill it with firecrackers and blow it up.

For all the Moms out there

2008-11-20T07:34:00.005-05:00

Dear Ladies,
I highly, highly, highly recommend this post.
I know it is SOOOO hard to stay encouraged in the work you do everyday. And you may not be a SAHM (Stay At Home Mom), but this post is a wonderful perspective giver. No condemnation. No "shoulds" or "shouldn'ts". Just fantastic, refreshing encouragement.

It gives me hope!

Deep Breath

2008-11-12T21:30:00.005-05:00

Jim came home the other day with some exciting news. His co-worker had adopted two children from the state, for only $6,000.00 each time, and said that they had not been required to sign a "no-spanking" clause.

Wow!

We were very excited. We wondered, "Is this the answer God? Maybe we've been pushing too hard in our own wisdom?"

"Call the state," Jim said. "See what they have to say. "

"Maybe I read the online forms wrong," I thought. "Maybe we won't have to wait all that long after all!"

So today I called the state and spoke to the very nice lady on the other end.

"My husband and I would like to adopt," I told her. "Can you tell me what the requirements are?"

The very nice-sounding lady listed them, all of which we already knew and were working on, minus a few extra like international travel. There was the Home Study, background check, finger printing, fire safety inspection, tax returns, biographies, etc., not necessarily in that order. The wait was about four to six months she informed me. And there was no fee if you adopted a child from foster care. The only fee to the parents would be the adoption attorney fee, and that was privately set.

"I heard that you have to sign a no-spanking document," I said. "Is that true?"

"It's a no-corporal-discipline document," she replied. "Too many of these children have been neglected or abused. So we can't have either fostered or adopted children receive corporal discipline."

We finished up a very pleasant and helpful conversation.

When I told Jim, he wondered aloud why his co-worker said they hadn't had to sign the document. "How long ago was that?" I asked. "About six years," he said.

Sometimes I wonder, is it really worth it to hold onto convictions that will cost you $64,000.00 and 18 months more in the middle of the "greatest economic downturn of the century"? After all, it's only spanking! I mean, who really needs to spank a kid?

And I'm sure OUR kids would NEVER need the rod of correction.

Excuse me, I need to go have surgery on my cheek. Something just got stuck there.

Superglue

2008-11-05T20:53:00.006-05:00

He came home at 9:00 in the morning, well past the usual hour of 7:00. It had been a rough night on the road, and he had to take his patrol car in for service. In his right hand, clutched between the handles of his duty bag, was a dozen pink roses.

His left arm cradled me to him as he greeted me with a kiss. And the rough scratch of his voice laced with weariness kept me leaning into him.

"Here," he said. "I was just thinking about you." And he swung his duty bag into his left hand as he presented the bouquet.

In the midst of a night of misery, after a 14 hour work shift, he was thinking of me.

Superglue.

Cat on a Not-Hot Not-Tin Roof

2008-11-02T21:33:00.004-05:00

Meeeoww! said Kitty.

How did she get up there! Jim asked.

Maybe she climbed the ladder leaning against the back porch, I said.

Meo, meo, meoow, Kitty pleaded.

Tk, Tk, Tk, Tk, Tk,....come here Kitty! Here Kitty... I replied.

Moewrr! Meowrr! MeowrrR! Kitty swore.

Don't swear at me! I told her. I'm just getting you down from here.

Just drop her, Jim advised.

She might break her leg I protested.

Just drop her, Jim ordered.

PSSSSST! MEOWWWRRR!!!

Fast forward two days later, 10:00 pm or thereabouts.

Galloping cats across the roof sound a lot like, well, galloping cats on the roof.

How did they get up there this time? Jim asked.

We didn't take the ladder down, I replied.

In stereo: I'm not going after them!

They got down somehow...probably the same way they got up.

Which raises the question: WHY DO CATS ALWAYS GO FOR THE HIGHEST POSSIBLE PLACES? Thank God we had them de-clawed. I would not like to be climbing trees at this stage of my life.

Burning Questions

2008-11-02T20:33:00.002-05:00

Let me make one clear statement first: My spiritual gift is not evangelism.

I've been known to choke on the effort to speak about Jesus to lost people, not because I was afraid of the gospel but because I was absolutely certain 1) I was going to say the wrong thing at the wrong time and 2) I was afraid of what would happen if I did speak. #2) actually holds more weight...

It's not necessarily that I'm afraid I'm going to lose friends and offend people - I do that quite easily in everyday conversations. It's a product of speaking your mind freely and not changing your mind easily.

I am, however, afraid that I would lose my job, lose my composure, and lose my train of thought.

In case you haven't noticed, witnessing to people can be a very risky thing in America today. If you tell someone that they aren't good enough for God and that there is only one way to Heaven you are in very real danger of being labeled hateful, narrow and bigoted. I plead guilty to narrow, having a shoulder to shoulder span of 18 inches and spine to belly button girth of 8 inches. The hateful and bigoted part is completely untrue, but truth - or the lack of it - doesn't prevent the labeling. In fact, I recall Jesus was crucified for saying the same things, and He was love and grace personified. Which is why I tend to be very cautious in speaking about spiritual things to people I meet at work or during social events where I represent my agency.

And I have this horrible habit of shaking like a leaf when I get passionate about something (anything). Some people call it trembling with rage, or shaking in the boots with fear, or shivering with excitement. I call it miserable. I blame it on the same high metabolic rate that keeps me narrow, but that does nothing to prevent the quiver in the voice or the sweat pouring down the back or the desperate urge to find the nearest commode. Strangely enough, the shaking never comes when I have to DO SOMETHING NOW! (Like in a simulated ambush or running to save a choking co-worker.) It only comes when I have to THINK AND SPEAK.

Because about two minutes into whatever I was saying, I will forget what my point was unless it is tattooed on the other persons forehead. Scratch that. If it was tattooed on the other person's forehead, I'd be saying, "Wow! Did you know you have something tattooed on your forehead! That is the nastiest thing I ever saw!" (Sorry Mix, but in some things I exceed the blurt factor.) And speaking of thinking, what was I speaking about anyway? Oh, yeah...

I have come to the conclusion that I'm basically a coward. Which doesn't stop me from wondering, with everyone I meet....

If you died right now, would you spend eternity alone in burning torment and mental anguish knowing that there was no escape and no rescue?

What are you living for? I mean, really LIVING for? Will it mean anything to you the second you die?

And do you really think that there won't be consequences for every single thing you think or do?

Would you like to live a righteous and holy life? Do you think you need to change? Do you want to change?

Why am I thinking about this?

Because for the past several months I've been tormented with the realization that there are those who have chosen NEVER to hear anything about the gospel. And it's like watching the proverbial impending train wreck. You can see in their eyes and hear from their own mouths that they "don't want anyone witnessing to me. It's insulting." Well, yes it is, but the alternative is eternal destruction.

So is it cowardice to not insult them?

Taps for Colonel John Ripley

2008-11-02T20:20:00.004-05:00

ANNAPOLIS, Md. – Retired Marine Col. John Ripley, who was credited with stopping a column of North Vietnamese tanks by blowing up a pair of bridges during the 1972 Easter Offensive of the Vietnam War, died at home at age 69, friends and relatives said Sunday.

Ripley's son, Stephen Ripley, said his father was found at his Annapolis home Saturday after missing a speaking engagement on Friday. The son said the cause of death had not been determined but it appeared his father died in his sleep.

In a videotaped interview with the U.S. Naval Institute for its Americans at War program, Ripley said he and about 600 South Vietnamese were ordered to "hold and die" against 20,000 North Vietnamese soldiers with about 200 tanks.

"I'll never forget that order, 'hold and die'," Ripley said. The only way to stop the enormous force with their tiny force was to destroy the bridge, he said.

"The idea that I would be able to even finish the job before the enemy got me was ludicrous," Ripley said. "When you know you're not going to make it, a wonderful thing happens: You stop being cluttered by the feeling that you're going to save your butt."

Ripley crawled under the bridge under heavy gunfire, rigging 500 pounds of explosives that brought the twins spans down, said John Miller, a former Marine adviser in Vietnam and the author of "The Bridge at Dong Ha," which details the battle.

Miller said the North Vietnamese advance was slowed considerably by Ripley.

"A lot of people think South Vietnam would have gone under in '72 had he not stopped them," Miller said.

Ray Madonna, president of the U.S. Naval Academy's 1962 graduating class, served in Vietnam as a Marine at the same time and said his classmate saved countless U.S. and South Vietnamese troops.

"They would have been wrecked" if the tanks had crossed, Madonna said. He said Ripley also coordinated naval gunfire that stopped the tanks from crossing at a shallower point downstream.

"He was a Marine's Marine, respected, highly respected by enlisted men, by his peers and by his seniors," Madonna said.

Miller said Ripley, who was born in Radford, Va., descended from a long line of veterans going back to the Revolutionary War. He graduated from the Naval Academy in 1962, after enlisting in the Marines out of high school and spending a year in naval school in Newport, R.I.

He earned the "Quad Body" distinction for making it through four of the toughest military training programs in the world: the Army Rangers, Marine reconnaissance, Army Airborne and Britain's Royal Marines, Miller said. He was also the only Marine to be inducted in the U.S. Army Ranger Hall of Fame.

Ripley earned the Navy Cross and Silver Star for his service in Vietnam. He later served on the Joint Chiefs of Staff and was regimental commander at Camp Lejeune, N.C., among other postings.

After retiring from the Marines, he was president and chancellor of Southern Virginia College in Lexington, Va.

Stephen Ripley said his father had a deep and tenacious love for his country, the Marine Corps and his family.

"My Dad never quit anything and never went halfway on anything in his life," he said. "He just was a full-throttle kind of person and those people that he cared about, he really cared about."

Ripley is survived by his wife, Moline B. Ripley, 67; three sons, Stephen Ripley, 43, Thomas Ripley, 38, and John Ripley, 35; a daughter, Mary Ripley, 39; and eight grandchildren.

Semper Fi, Marine. You were an inspiration to many.

Congratulations Emily and Ye!

2008-10-23T09:55:00.006-05:00

Emily and Ye are now the proud parents of little Kai Samuel....

Kai = Triumph
Samuel = After Emily's Dad

Here are some pictures of the little prince, and his older sister Simone.

Well of Course It's Raining!

2008-10-18T11:08:00.001-05:00

I watered the garden last night!

It's kind of like washing your car or boat....

Happy Birthday Dear Heart

2008-10-16T18:41:00.002-05:00

To My Dear Husband...

Yours is the smile I look forward to each morning, and yours is the voice I love to hear throughout the day.

And the rest becomes very private.

I love you!

Happy Birthday!

Fireproof

2008-10-09T17:07:00.002-05:00

We saw Fireproof a couple weekends ago.

So it had a lot of stereotypes and was predictable.

I thoroughly enjoyed it. It was a GOOD movie in a time when every other movie advertised has sex, gore, and other filth.

It was about time something good came out of .... oh wait, it wasn't Hollywood.

Talkative and Grace

2008-10-08T16:47:00.004-05:00

I've been enjoying reading Pilgrim's Progress by John Bunyan. Since I'm reading the original version, there are quite a few differences from the Young Pilgrims Progress and the Young Christian's Pilgrimage versions that I was required to read in middle school. Something I definitely don't remember was the following conversation, but it certainly made an impression this time around.

Faithful is talking with Talkative.

Faithful: "How does the saving Grace of God discover itself, when it is in the heart of man?

Talkative: "I perceive then that our talk must be about the power of things: Well, 'tis a very good question, and I shall be willing to answer you. And take my answer in brief thus: First, Where the Grace of God is in the heart it causeth there a great outcry against sin. Secondly - "

Faithful: "Nay hold, let us consider of one at once: I think you should rather say, It shews itself by inclining the soul to abhor its sin.

Talkative: "Why, what difference is there between crying out against, and abhorring of sin?"

Faithful: "Oh! a great deal. A man may cry out against sin, of policy; but he cannot abhor it, but by virtue of a godly antipathy against it. I have heard many cry out against sin in the pulpit, who yet can abide it well enough in the heart, house, and conversation. Joseph's mistress cried out with a loud voice, as if she had been very holy; but she would willingly, notwithstanding that, have committed uncleanness with him. Some cry out against sin, even as the Mother cries out against her Child in her lap, when she calleth it slut and naughty girl, and then falls to hugging and kissing it."

Aside from the fact that Bunyan clearly knew at least one psychotic mother, can you just imagine someone calling adultery "committing uncleanness"?!? Wow, imagine writing a book like this today FOR POPULAR CONSUMPTION!

Oh, yes, the name Talkative describes a man who "...talketh of Prayer, of Repentance, of Faith, and of the New-birth; but he knows but only to talk of them. I have been in his Family, and have observed him both at home and abroad; and I know what I say of him is the truth. His house is as empty of Religion as the white of an Egg is of savour. There is there neither Prayer, nor sign of Repentance for sin; yea, the brute in his kind (animal in his house) serves God far better than he. He is the very stain, reproach, and shame of Religion to all that know him; it can hardly have a good word in all that end of the Town where he dwells, through him. Thus say the common people that know him, A saint abroad, and a Devil at home. His poor Family finds it so: he is such a churl, such a railer at, and so unreasonable with his Servants, that they neither know how to do for, or speak to him. Men that have any dealings with him say 'tis better to deal with a Turk than with him; for fairer dealing they shall have at the hands. This Talkative (if it be possible) will go beyond them, defraud, beguile, and over-reach them. Besides, he brings up his Sons to follow his steps; and if he findeth in any of them a foolish timorousness (for so he calls the first appearance of a tender conscience), he calls them fools and blockheads, and by no means will employ them in much, or speak to their commendations before others. For my part I am of opinion, that he has by his wicked life caused many to stumble and fall; and will be, if God prevent not, the ruin of many more."

Enjoying Home

2008-10-07T22:14:00.004-05:00

We had our first company today at our "new" house- a business meeting with three of my staff while I baked bread and apple pie. Then we had the apple pie after the staff meeting.

Since the pie never lasts more than a day, it was nice to share it. I'm not sure Jim agrees with that sentiment. Normally he only gets one piece of pie, shaped like a kidney and comprising about three quarters of the pie plate.

The bread vanishes pretty much the same way the pie does. I've finally found the perfect blend/recipe, and two loaves are gone in three days between the two of us.

Which is helping on the grocery bill....it's hard to fill up on "extras" and non-healthy snacks when you have a stomach full of homemade bread with butter and honey. (Jim doesn't do either butter or honey, but that's his problem.)

Addressing "But What About Deborah"

2008-10-07T21:08:00.003-05:00

Pastor Bill Einwechter wrote this article in response to many people comparing Governor Palin's vice-presidential candidacy to the prophetess Deborah. It is a long read, but I highly encourage everyone to read it. My favorite quote:

"Furthermore, we contend that it is presumptuous to argue that since we live in a period of history like unto the period of the book of Judges, we can assume that God has raised up Sarah Palin for us in the same way that He raised up Deborah for Israel.

How do those who make this claim justify it? How do they know that the plan of God for Israel in the days of the Deborah is the same plan that He has for America today? How do they know that Sarah Palin is a Deborah for our day?

Perhaps she is something else entirely. Perhaps she has been raised up to test the Christian church, to see if our allegiance is to the Republican party and its agenda, or to Jesus Christ and His kingdom; to see if we are willing to sacrifice the biblical doctrine of Christian womanhood, and support a woman who embodies the feminist vision of womanhood for the sake of winning an election; to see if we are willing to compromise on the authority and sufficiency of Scripture for the sake of political expediency? Perhaps she is a manifestation of God’s judgment on the church in terms similar to Isaiah 3:12 (in the context of Isaiah 3:12 the women who ruled over the men were foolish women; they were not wise and godly women of the faith and character of Deborah)?

Whatever the case, this much is clear: We cannot presume to know the secret will of God, and then act on our presumptions and say we are doing God’s will. Rather, we are commanded to obey the revealed will of God by doing all the words written in the law of God (Deut. 29:29). It is only by obeying God’s law (Deut. 1:13) that we can know how to vote (or not vote) in this or in any election."

The Garden is (Mostly) In

2008-10-03T20:06:00.002-05:00

So far I have planted cabbages, brussel sprouts, head lettuce, Italian greens mix, French mesclun mix, mustard, lima beans, peas, parsnips, potatos, rutabagas, and turnips.

I also dropped planted on a whim five gala apple seeds, five orange seeds, and a peach pit. The lavender and rosemary are at the corners of the garden serving as tall sentinels to the fact that there really are plants in that patch of dirt.

Since the cabbage, brussel sprouts and head lettuce were sets, they are doing very well.

The lima beans are about an inch and a half tall after 10 days from planting, and the peas are catching up.

Of course it has become downright chilly, with the temperatures dropping into the low 60s overnight. I'm getting too old for this cold weather....

Farmer Jim Says...

2008-10-03T19:19:00.001-05:00

"Wow, this is rich soil!"

I told him I didn't know he ever gardened.

"I didn't. But I've eaten a lot of dirt!"

I really don't want to know.

Packing Lunches

2008-10-03T19:11:00.003-05:00

Like everyone else in America, we are trying to economize more than normal lately.

I packed Jim a "lunch" for night shift. Home made bread sliced thin with fresh lettuce and home-grown peppers and two chicken thigh filets apparently make a good sandwich.

Jim called me up an hour into a 12 hour shift to tell me that it had smelled so good he had already eaten both his sandwiches. I don't blame him. I'm thinking of eating the last one right now....

The Crime of Casual Forgiveness

2008-09-29T20:50:00.003-05:00

I've come to the uncomfortable realization that most Christian parents do more to sabotage their own children's future salvation than anyone else in the world by a simple attempt to teach their children civility.

I'm speaking about the ritual of casual forgiveness.

Example: Two children are playing. One reaches over and takes what the other was playing with, resulting in cries and appeals for justice. Parent comes and restores the toy, and says to the little thief, "Say I'm sorry." "Sorry" says the thief. "O.k." says the parent. If the parent does make the victim respond, it is always with a mandate for the victim to express forgiveness to the thief or dismiss the incident as not important.

The first and most immediate problem is that the little thief is not repentant. They may very well be sorry for getting caught, and they are most certainly sorrowful for having to give up the booty they stole. But they do not mourn for their own sinfulness of stealing what wasn't theirs in the first place.

The second problem is that neither child has been taught that the thief has committed a wrong deserving punishment.

The third problem is that both the thief and the victim are now convinced that everything is readily remedied with an insincere apology.

The fourth, and ultimately most destructive problem with this behavior is that both children are having a subtle but potent expectation of forgiveness built into them.

By expectation of forgiveness, I mean that they now come to believe that they deserve to be forgiven. Nothing could be further from the truth.

Forgiveness can never be deserved. If forgiveness were deserved, than there would be no need for forgiveness. In short, there was no true offense given.

True forgiveness is always a matter of accepting a personal injury without holding another person accountable for repayment.

Children know this instinctively. Children never argue for forgiveness for someone who has offended them. And I have never met a child under four who ever asked for forgiveness without first being prompted to do so.

I can't prove, but I suspect, that teaching casual forgiveness is just the first step in raising an adult to practice a faux christianity where they are sealed in damnation but convinced of their salvation.

Salvation does not come by asking for it. No where in the scripture are we ever told, "Ask for forgiveness and you shall be saved."

Salvation does not come from any works we do. Nowhere does the Scripture say that if we do not get baptised, say X number of prayers, fast, give to the poor, etc. we will not be saved.

Instead, we are told to BELIEVE and be saved. Coupled with this command to believe is the resulting expression of that belief by verbal confession and baptism. This is followed by good works.

Since belief is what brings salvation, what is it exactly that we are to believe?

1. We are to believe that God is who He says He is in the Scriptures, and that His character mandates absolute justice and absolute righteousness. Since He is absolutely just and righteous, He is unable to forgive offenses for the sake of the offender; He is unable to forgive sin just because He loves sinners. He is in fact obligated to punish all sins, no matter how badly that may hurt Him.

2. We are to believe that we have mortally offended a righteous and holy God, and are completely incapable of doing anything to gain his favor. We will never hear "It's o.k." or "No big deal" from God regarding any offense or sin. It is indeed a very big deal, and it is a matter so serious it requires eternal punishment in Hell.

3. We are to believe that God, Who is Love, took it upon Himself to do the one thing that could allow Him to forgive us. He chose to become human, like us, and pay for all of our offenses in His own body on the cross.

4. We are to believe that The Righteous One now offers us mercy and forgiveness, not for our sake but for the sake of His Son. He is willing to declare us righteous in position (justification), although in practice we are being made progressively more righteous in action (sanctification) for the rest of our lives until we are made perfect (glorification) when we exchange our current bodies for new ones by death and resurrection or rapture.

5. We are to believe that God comes to us and offers us this gift, with the understanding that we must reject all other forms of trying to appease Him. We do not ask Him to come to us or even desire to have anything to do with Him, except as a response to His initiative. (This is really a part of #4, but I felt it needed to be expounded a little.)

You cannot leave out any of this for true Christianity. You can't believe #1, 2, and 4, but reject #3 and 5. It is an all or nothing package.

And the problem with that, is that we are by nature inclined to reject #2. We deny that what we have done is all that bad so we don't need forgiveness. We are offended by the idea that God would punish us for eternity for one "teeny tiny little sin". We are insulted by the idea that there is nothing we can do to make up for that little bit of name-your-favorite-sin. We think we are basically pretty good people, and we are encouraged in this belief by the casual forgiveness that we are taught from the time we are infants.

And that ultimately leads to damnation.

Why am I on my soap box?

Because I found myself in the four year old Sunday School class with the example cited above less than a week after having a very disturbing conversation.

"I'm concerned that the person X wants to introduce me to will try to witness to me," they said....

..."Are you afraid you will feel pressured?" I asked.

"No," they replied, "I'm just offended by the attitude that I'm not good enough. Besides, I'm saved."

"You are an agnostic. How did you get saved?"

"The same way all Baptists get saved. I asked for it." (Italics mine.)

The rest of the conversation was not relevant to the current topic, but I spent until that Sunday wondering why any sane person would assume that forgiveness and reconciliation are requisite because you asked for it.

Poor Jake

2008-09-29T20:13:00.003-05:00

Well, we finally scraped together enough to take the dog to the vet (it's been an interesting couple of months money wise, but if you've read this blog long enough you've already realized that).

Jake had:

1) An infected eye - treated with antibiotic cream

2) An infected willie - treated with little pills that he absolutely hates. Hey, that's what he gets for getting fresh with a girl who isn't in the mood.

3) Hook worms - treated with three oral gel applications that are supposed to taste like banana, but smells pretty awful.

4) Heart worms

"Well dog," Jim said, "It looks like you're going to die."

Apparently the heart worm infestation is pretty bad. They can treat it, but there's no guarantee that he will get better. If he did receive treatment, he would have to be on a no-exercise regime for 13 weeks to prevent pieces of the dead worms breaking up and giving him a stroke or heart attack. Also, the treatment is very expensive. More expensive than the neutering that has also been tabled until further notice.

Since we can't afford treatment this month, we're going to have to wait and see if we have any money next month.

Which brings me to the next point.

At least vets tell you up front how much the medical fee is going to cost.

The medical bills from the last couple of months are still coming in. I now wish that we had insisted on getting a firm statement on how much everything was going to cost before we got the bill(s). It nearly sent me into shock.

"Three hundred dollars for a doctor to talk five minutes with you, take one look at you and tell you that you need surgery?!"

"HOW MUCH for 15 minutes of knife work?"

"Wait, a bag of saline solution costs how much? Why don't we just make you drink salt water?"

Don't get me wrong. The surgery and assorted miscellaneous was absolutely necessary. And I am absolutely grateful for Jim's resulting health.

But I do believe we paid for that doctor's kid's college tuition.

As for Jake, as Jim pointed out, at least if he dies before we get him treated he will have a full belly, shelter and companionship instead of wandering the woods starving and alone.

Chicken Tales

2008-09-25T09:16:00.000-05:00

John was in the fertilized egg business.

He had several hundred young layers (hens), called 'pullets,' and ten roosters to fertilize the eggs.

He kept records, and any rooster not performing went into the soup pot and was replaced.

This took a lot of time, so he bought some tiny bells and attached them to his roosters. Each bell had a different tone, so he could tell from a distance, which rooster was performing. Now, he could sit on the porch and fill out an efficiency report by just listening to the bells.

John's favorite rooster, old Butch, was a very fine specimen, but this morning he noticed old Butch's bell hadn't rung at all! When he went to investigate, he saw the other roosters were busy chasing pullets, bells-a-ringing, but the pullets, hearing the roosters coming, could run for cover. To John's amazement, old Butch had his bell in his beak, so it couldn't ring. He'd sneak up on a pullet, do his job and walk on to the next one.

John was so proud of old Butch, he entered him in the Renfrew County Fair and he became an overnight sensation among the judges. The result was the judges not only awarded old Butch the No Bell Piece Prize but they also awarded him the Pulletsurprise as well.

Clearly old Butch was a politician in the making.

Who else but a politician could figure out how to win two of the most highly coveted awards on our planet by being the best at sneaking up on the populace and screwing them when they weren't paying attention?

Vote carefully in the next election, the bells are not always audible.

So I Was Wrong

2008-09-21T07:57:00.002-05:00

The children's choir was part of World Help, not World Vision. In fairness to them, here is their website.

In fairness to me, I searched the internet when I got home, and their website didn't even show up under Children of Hope, which was what the program had on the cover. I discovered the confusion when I went to register our sponsorship online.

Happy Birthday Granny!

2008-09-19T19:24:00.002-05:00

Happy Happy Happy Birthday!

World Vision's Children of the World

2008-09-18T09:29:00.009-05:00

Last night our church hosted the Children of the World choir. Part of it was good and part of it was just aggravating.

As Jim put it, "we just listened to an hour long commercial" for World Vision's Children of Hope and Hope Villages. The kids singing and dancing was o.k., but nothing I would have paid to see, so it's a good thing it was free. There were lots of statistics about the horrific rates of HIV/AIDS orphans in sub-Saharan Africa, and how less then 13% of evangelicals in America would support an AIDS outreach/orphanage in sub-Saharan Africa. This was attributed to racism, indifference, etc. And then my least favorite statement, "It is our prayer that when history looks back at the greatest pandemic the record will show that evangelicals and (your church name here) rose to the occasion to...."

Hey, I can't speak for the rest of evangelical America. I am horrified and motivated by the statistics. I have and will gladly continue to give to support orphanages all over the world, regardless of the reason for their orphan status or their skin color. I think Children of Hope and Hope Village is a fantastic cause, and I am thrilled that they conduct their operations with only 5% administrative costs (which is better than any other non-profit and charitable organization I know of).

What I really, really, really HATE is to attend a mid-week worship service that turns out to be a fundraiser. False advertising. I especially hate when people try to manipulate your emotions to make you give more. Did I say hate? I meant loathe.

Just give me the facts. Don't throw in the guilt trip, because it won't work and I'll just resent you. Tell me up front that it's a fundraiser, and I'll gladly attend and support it.

All that being said, the following is a voluntary advertisement for World Vision.
Check out this website.
1. World Vision does a lot more than support children in sub-Saharan Africa. If that was all they did, they would be a great organization. They are actually visiting the fatherless and widows in their need - true religion and undefiled I believe James called it.
2. As head of a local non-profit, I can testify that 5% of total income used on General/Administrative costs is phenomenal. My agency can't do that. You try living off 5% of your annual income, using 8% to keep your business bringing in money, and giving 86% to orphans, widows, starving and homeless people, and you'll see how phenomenal this is.
3. World Vision is a Christian organization that hires and retains only Christians who sign a statement that they agree with their statement of faith and the Apostle's Creed. If you are looking to support a world-wide Christian agency, this is it.
4. World Vision has the logistical capacity RIGHT NOW to reach the people it is trying to reach. They have warehouses, planes, staff, and working relationships with nations around the world. What it doesn't have is the money. That's where we come in.

Speaking from experience, every little bit helps. $5.00 can add up to a lot. I'll leave it up to the financial gurus to calculate how much help we could provide if everyone provided just $5.00 a month. Of course they would appreciate more if you can give it. And yes, we are putting our money where our mouth is.

After all, as I heard on the radio yesterday, a family of 5 living on $30,000.00 per year in the United States today is better off than 90% of US citizens in 1950. So my house won't get remodeled this year. So I won't buy another dress or skirt or pair of jeans this year. At least someone gets fed.

Yet Another Small Thing

2008-09-18T09:29:00.008-05:00

Here is another opportunity to help orphans.

Try writing a personal letter.

Global Aid Network is affiliated with Campus Crusade for Christ, and delivers back-to-school care packages to orphanages in the former Soviet Union and other areas. Personal letters are included in each package. Everyone needs to feel special, and you know how a personal card can make you feel....

GAiN is looking for 20,000 more letters by October 20. Follow this link for instructions.

Adoption Interview #1

2008-09-18T09:29:00.001-05:00

We had our first interview with our case worker yesterday. It went very well.

Things seem to be going so slowly, although it has only been since May that we started the whole proceedings.

Of course, it feels slow but I'm sure we'll look back and say, "Already? Wasn't it just yesterday that we...."

Keep praying for us.

I fed a Deer!

2008-09-14T20:43:00.001-05:00

A six point buck, to be exact. He walked up to me on the 5th, and at first I tried to scare him away.
But he just looked at me like I was silly. So I got some peanuts and fed him.

I was at a training seminar on a little gated community island about 20 minutes outside Beaufort. According to their advertisements, there are almost 400 deer on this island, and it's pretty clear that people feed them.

Someone took pictures, but I don't have them yet. Someone else said the buck probably wasn't going to make it past the winter, as he was really old - at least 7 or 8 years. I have no idea how he made that determination.

Anyway, it was kind of cool...

Of course, I almost ran into a doe and a fawn later that night heading back to the cabin.

Mourning

2008-09-11T18:45:00.004-05:00

Yesterday I was at a luncheon. They kept showing background slides of the 9-11 terrorist attacks, and it threw me off for a bit because it was 9-10.

Today I was on my way to work and turned on the radio. Focus on the Family was hosting a Twin Tower survivor.

So it went all day.

The loss of any human life is worth mourning, and even more so when humanity loses another piece of it's collective honor through cowardly attacks on civilians. With my fellow Americans I stand in silence and grief as we remember. But that is not the real reason I mourn.

What I mourn is that seven years later we have leaders in society that dare to say things like "I support our troops, but we need to get out of Iraq and focus on Afghanistan (where the real terrorists are)" thereby implying that people in Iraq are innocent victims of American aggression. Or they mindlessly parrot, "Islam is basically a peaceful religion, and the terrorists were just extremists."

Statements like these are based on the foolish thought that humans are basically good and all we have to do is appeal to their better nature in order to change the world. But there is no such thing as an innately good human, and there is no hope of a better nature unless we first acknowledge our depravity. But we are too depraved to even do that.

So on the seventh anniversary of the day Muslims brought their 1500 year old religious war to America I mourn for more than the loss of thousands of people.

To the families of the victims of the 9-11 terror attacks: I'm so sorry. Your loved ones died in vain.

Getting Ready for Fall Planting

2008-09-11T18:07:00.002-05:00

One thing about the south...Summer is the dead time instead of winter.

By that I mean, in the summer it is simply too hot and too dry to have good results. Roses stop blooming and everything wilts unless it is heavily mulched and thoroughly watered on a nearly daily basis. Lettuce bolts overnight, and the bugs are too horrible to mention.

The benefit of living in the south is that whatever survives the summer comes back beautifully right around now. Ever single rose bush that didn't get personally introduced (ahem) to the weedeater now has at a minimum two buds. Most of them have buds and blooms galore.

The rosemary bloomed too. I hadn't expected that, and it was quite lovely. The lavender never did bloom this year. In fact, the lavender developed a grayish rot to it in the last couple of weeks, which mystified me until I bent over to examine it and went reeling back from the odor of dog urine. Bad Jake!

I found a garden plan on-line that will allow me to plant a selection of mustard, collards, lettuce, onions, garlic, summer squash, spinach, potatoes, etc. (More to the point, I found a garden plan that Jim will let me put in behind the house off the back porch. He has reason to be suspicious of my skills in gardening.) I have outlined the area - about 25 by 19 feet - with the yellow hose, and once it stops raining I'll start digging.

I should be ready to start planting around next weekend.

Since Jim has a lot of inside work, like putting up walls in the kitchen and dropping ceilings, and running AC vents in the kitchen, I suspect I'll be doing the digging. And anyway, I'd rather he put on a new roof, chopped down another six trees, and built a shed instead.

I like dirt. He likes sawdust. It's a good division of labor.

Decision Making for Christians

2008-09-10T20:14:00.002-05:00

One of our elders preached on this a couple weeks ago. I found it the other day and wrote it up to paste on my wall...

1. Are you willing to do what is right, once you know God's will?

2. Does it agree with all the Scripture has to say about the subject?

3. Have you prayed about it? Have you really, seriously prayed about?

4. Do you have the leading of Holy Spirit?

5. Does it please God?

6. Can you do it in the name of the Lord Jesus?

7. Can you give God thanks for it?

8. Does it bring glory to God?

9. Does it offend other Christians?

10. Am I fully persuaded that it is right?

11. Do the best Christians I know agree that it is right?

Huck's Speech

2008-09-07T17:33:00.000-05:00

I gotta admit I really, really liked this....

http://www.huckpac.com/?FuseAction=Blogs.View&Blog_id=1873

Yet So As Through Fire

2008-09-04T19:11:00.003-05:00

Our Senior Pastor likes to talk about rewards in Heaven vs. Salvation, using 1 Corinthians 3:10-15. He uses the analogy of your house being on fire, and you being the only one to escape....

What with Hanna heading our way, I was thinking about it this way last night (a lot of the imagery is thanks to Dr. Broggi).

Say you wake up one day, and the hurricane is bearing down on you. You are the only person in the house with a life vest on. You run out of the bedroom and down the hall to get your children, but the floodwaters break into the house and carry them away, out of your reach never to be seen again. You race back to your bedroom to get your wife, but a fresh wave pulls the house down around you. As you surface from the floodwaters, gasping for breath, you are pulled up into the air by a helicopter. Far away you can see the screaming, struggling forms of your wife and children as they are pummelled helplessly by debris before they are sucked beneath the raging water.

Are you going to sit back in the helicopter with clothse torn and soaking wet and the smell of mold and decay in your nose and say, "Well at least I'm saved! Glory, hallelujah, isn't it wonderful? I got nothing left and my family is dead, but at least I'm saved!"

He always ends by asking, "What will you take to Heaven with you? What treasure have you laid up?"

Or as I once heard Doug Phillips say, "Your children are the only thing on this earth that you might take with you to Heaven."

And as Proverbs 24:11-12 says, "Deliver those who are drawn toward death, and hold back those stumbling to the slaughter. If you say, 'Surely we did not know this,' does not He who weighs the hearts consider it? He who keeps your soul, does He not know it? And will He not render to each man according to his deeds?"

Getting Ready For Hannah

2008-09-01T21:35:00.002-05:00

Please pray for our friends in Louisiana who just went through Gustav:

Bergerons (11 children)
Christophersons (6 children)
Lukachiks (10 children)
Ducks (3 children)
Putmans (3 children)

I spent the evening cleaning and inventorying everything, photos included, in case Hannah makes it's projected bull's eye over Beaufort. At least I got the laundry room and kitchen done. I think I'll be able to get the rest done over the next couple of nights.

If Hannah comes this way, I'll be heading out of town no later than Thursday afternoon, and that will be real late.

Pray for Jim too, as he is back on night shift (just like the last time this happened).

Comment Rules

2008-08-28T17:45:00.002-05:00

If I don't know who you are, I won't post your comment. In fact, I probably won't even read it. So Anonymous is just going to have to start identifying him or herself.

God Who Protects Me

2008-08-28T08:10:00.002-05:00

I took the dog for a romp in the green space next to my office building. It is maintained (mowed, trimmed, etc.) by the county and free to all, and it is a place Jake loves to play in.

As we turned to walk back to the car I saw a ten to twelve inch snake whipping through the grass just in front of me about two feet away. Jake danced around it, but I called him back.

It had the triangular head of a viper and the diamond markings of a rattlesnake.

Jim says it may have been a pygmy rattlesnake or a baby canebrake rattlesnake. Since I was wearing open toed high heels, nylons and a knee length skirt, I had absolutely no physical protection against its bite.

But I had the God Who Protects Me, may He be praised forever.

Updates on Miscellaneous

2008-08-26T19:32:00.014-05:00

We have a new cabinet in the kitchen! And Jim is making plans for the new countertop (not to be installed for another couple of weeks, but hey, the plans are being made.)

The shock collar was the best training tool we ever invested in. We took the dog for a walk with us, and he didn't run off. Later that evening we found that the batteries in the collar were dead, so he really was staying with us of his own free will. I think.At any rate, Jake now stays in the yard instead of hightailing it for the neighbor's chickens.

We got some rain from Fay....just a little. See the pictures. That's our road in front of the house.

And we tore out most of the bushes in the front yard that lined the driveway. It makes the front yard look so BIG.

And for the Best News of All (drumroll)...we have sent off our initial application package fee for the adoption.

Hey, it's big news when it's the first action you've taken on adoption in two months.

Just My Opinion

2008-08-26T19:22:00.002-05:00

Anyone who thinks that the 2008 election is a life or death matter because it's going to "change" the country for either direction is seriously deluded.

About 12 years ago, Dad told me that people get the government they deserve. He's right.

Any "changes" that are going to happen are already here in people's hearts. They're just waiting to be implemented.

And the only person who can change hearts for the better is God.

So the real question is, are Christians wasting their time running around like frantic chickens? Or are they appealing to the only real power they have - which incidentally is the only real power there is?

After all, I really don't think God cares AS MUCH about the FORM of government His children live under as He does about whether or not His children are behaving like HIS children, and HIS loyal subjects. He is, after all, King of the Universe. And we've spent the last 34 years that I can remember acting like He was America's private genie. (Come to think of it, American Christians of my generation don't deserve the blessings we've inherited for the past 34 years...we've wasted them primarily on our own selfishness.)

So for my part, I am forgetting this nonsense about Republican or Democrat. I will vote my conscience, and then I will go and put feet to my conscience. And any change that happens in this country will be because God works through His children on an individual basis to change individual lives. Like the lives of our own children.

Just my opinion.

How Women Got the Vote

2008-08-22T18:39:00.002-05:00

Here is a piece of history we need to remember, or perhaps become aware of, told in a brief and moving way. I never knew this.

This is the story of our Grandmothers and Great-grandmothers as they lived 90 years ago.

It was not until 1920 that women were granted the right to go to the polls and vote.

The women who made it so were innocent and defenseless. And by the end of the night, they were barely alive.

Forty prison guards wielding clubs and their warden's blessing went on a rampage against the 33 women wrongly convicted of 'obstructing sidewalk traffic.'

They beat Lucy Burn, chained her hands to the cell bars above her head and left her hanging for the night, bleeding and gasping for air. They hurled Dora Lewis into a dark cell, smashed her head against an iron bed and knocked her out cold.

Her cellmate, Alice Cosu, thought Lewis was dead and suffered a heart attack. Additional affidavits describe the guards grabbing, dragging, beating, choking, slamming, pinching, twisting and Kicking the women.

Thus unfolded the 'Night of Terror' on Nov. 15, 1917, when the warden at the Occoquan Workhouse in Virginia ordered his guards to teach a lesson to the suffragists imprisoned there because they dared to picket Woodrow Wilson's White House for the right to vote.

For weeks, the women's only water came from an open pail. Their food--all of it colorless slop--was infested with worms. When one of the leaders, Alice Paul, embarked on a hunger strike, they tied her to a chair, forced a tube down her throat and poured liquid into her until she vomited. She was tortured like this for weeks until word was smuggled out to the press.

So, refresh my memory. Some women won't vote this year because--why, exactly? We have carpool duties? We have to get to work? Our vote doesn't matter? It's raining?

HBO released the movie 'Iron Jawed Angels on video and DVD. It is a graphic depiction of the battle these women waged so that I could pull the curtain at the polling booth and have my say.

It is jarring to watch Woodrow Wilson and his cronies try to persuade a Psychiatrist to declare Alice Paul insane so that she could be permanently institutionalized. And it is inspiring to watch the doctor refuse. Alice Paul was strong, he said, and
brave. That didn't make her crazy.

The doctor admonished the men: 'Courage in women is often mistaken for insanity.'

We need to get out and vote and use this right that was fought so hard for by these very courageous women. Whether you vote democratic, republican or independent party - remember to vote. History is being made.

Shower Time

2008-08-04T17:58:00.002-05:00

So there I was in the shower when something furry wound itself around my ankles.

Normally I call my husband in dulcet tones, but I make exceptions for cases like this. In cases like this my voice reaches a soprano unheard of at any other time.

It turns out Kitty has also visited Jim during his ablutions. She doesn’t like it when the water drips directly on her head, hence the standing on your feet and leaning against the legs part. Jim says he just turns the pressure down at the shower head until she’s done. He’s a lot more understanding than I.

Jay has morphed into Jake. Jim decided he liked that name better. I couldn't upload the pictures for some reason.

We are still working on the “Come!” part of the training. Jake loves to take off running down the street as soon as he gets out of the house. It would help if the neighbors didn’t call him in their direction when we are trying to get him to return home.

My theory is that he needs to get more exercise and feel like he’s more of a pack. Jim and I agree that he has never really been part of a pack, and so doesn’t quite know how to deal with this. So I’ve been taking him to work. It’s a good thing that I am the only person in the office.

We're in the paper!

2008-08-04T10:46:00.001-05:00

This was a fantastic article, and I really appreciate their writing it!

http://www.beaufortgazette.com/opinions/columns/jim_cato/story/509768.html

Songs

2008-07-30T23:50:00.002-05:00

Today is the 30^th. The only reason that this is important is because tomorrow is the last day of the month, and the last day that I will be reading and meditating on Psalm 4. For the last three months I’ve been picking one chapter to read every day for a month.

I started with Psalm 2 because I had already memorized Psalm 1 way back when I was a teenie-bopper. Of course, that was before they were called teenie-boppers. Back then we were, um, I think it was just called adolescence, so I was a young adolescent. Yes I’m dating myself – and digressing.

Anyway, I memorized Psalm 1 when I was a young adolescent in middle school (actually all the classes from K-12 were in the basement of the church). X number of years later I was pleasantly surprised to discover that I REMEMBERED Psalm 1 without prompting, although with a strong emphases on the archaic forms of –eth verbs. You know, walketh, standeth, sitteth…the result of a KJV only upbringing. So after one day of reading Psalm 1 I moved on to Psalm 2.

Since I switched from reading the KJV to NKJV to NIV to parallel to Complete Jewish Bible (CJB) over an unspecified number years I found that the semi-familiar Psalm 2 was a bit more difficult to master. It might have something to do with never knowing for sure which phrase belonged to which translation read in which year. I got the concept though: at the end of the Messiah’s reign on Earth, the vast majority of people will rebel against his kingdom in Jerusalem and start a world-wide revolution. This will cause God to snicker over their stupidity since God was the One who installed His King on the Holy Mountain. The Messiah makes a pronouncement that God spoke to Him directly calling Him “Son” and giving him the world. The revolutionaries are urged to make peace with the King before He destroys them.

After reading this for a month, I came to the conclusion that people really are totally depraved and generally stupid. After all, they will be living for a thousand years under a perfect government in a world where predator no longer hunts prey and 100 years is considered youthful…and they still resent and hate Messiah. In the end, the majority of people choose to fight against the best government ever established so they can pursue their own desires and end up getting wiped out for their efforts. Yep, we humans really are screw-balls. That’s the polite term for it.

So May transitioned into June, and I transitioned into Psalm 3. I figured that if I got so much out of Psalm 2 just from reading it every day, I would probably get more out of Psalm 3 by memorizing it. Since I couldn’t memorize Psalm 2 by reading it every day, I decided to write Psalm 3 out every day. It worked. Psalm 3 is now firmly lodged somewhere in my cranial cavity, and has every once in a while gotten itself mixed up with Psalm 4 when I’ve been trying to review the memorized verses at night in bed.

If Psalm 2 was a shake-your-head-at-stupid-humans song, Psalm 3 was a tear-your-chest-open-and-watch-your-heart-bleed-out-and-weep song. The very first phrase after “Psalm 3” is “A psalm of David when he fled from Absalom his son.” Enquiring minds can find all the dirty details of the tragedy in 2 Samuel 11-19.

It all started when King David married more than one wife. Seriously. He ended up with six wives and seven children BEFORE he was crowned king of all Israel. After he moved to Jerusalem, he married at least one more woman and gained at least one concubine and at least two more children before he finally decided to take a vacation, be pampered like a king and stay home from that years’ war. At that point he committed adultery with Bathsheba and murdered Uriah and an unknown number of other soldiers to cover it up. As a consequence God killed his and Bathsheba’s first son and warned him that the sword will never leave his house.

Shortly afterward David’s oldest son Amnon raped his half-sister, Tamar. David did….nothing. So Tamar’s full-brother Absalom murdered Amnon in revenge. And David did…nothing. David may have been a man after God’s own heart, but he was a horrible father.

Absalom flees to another country, and David did…nothing. Eventually David allows Absalom to return to Jerusalem without requiring any repentance from Absalom. By now there was no relationship left between the two. By now Absalom hated David, although David still was strongly emotionally attached to Absalom. Absalom staged a coup, and David and a small group of six hundred ran for their lives.

I suspect David wrote this song prophetically. I am almost certain that David the Father was dreading what David the King knew had to happen.

“Adonai, how many enemies I have!
How countless are those attacking me!
How countless those who say of me,
‘There is no salvation for him in God!’
(Selah)

But You, Adonai, are a shield for me.
You are my glory. You lift my head high.
With my voice I call out to Adonai,
And He answers me from His holy hill.
I lie down and sleep, then wake up again,
Because Adonai sustains me.
I am not afraid of the tens of thousands
Set against me on every side.
(Selah)

Rise up, Adonai!
Save me, my God!
For you slap all my enemies in the face.
You smash the teeth of the wicked.
Victory belongs to Adonai.
May Your blessing rest on Your people.
(Selah)”

Three days later David begged his army before they march off to battle, “Deal gently for my sake with the young man Absalom.” And when he learned of Absalom’s murder by General Joab David mourned, “O my son Absalom, my son, my son, Absalom! Would I had died instead of you, O Absalom, my son, my son!”

David’s song put the dog bites, flooded houses, broken AC and non-stop work schedule into perspective. By the way, at last count David ended up with at least 11 concubines and eight wives before his death.

In contrast to June, July was very much an imperial song. The NAS, KJV and NIV all introduce Psalm 4 as a song dedicated to the choir director. The CJB simply says, “For the leader. With stringed instruments. A psalm of David.” Given the tenor of the song, I prefer to think of it – with all due respect – as a Monarch’s rant against traitors and fools.

Also, I learned around this time that the CJB was a dynamic equivalent as opposed to a literal translation, so my Bible ended up with italicized notes showing the NAS differences. It now looks like this.

“O God, my Vindicator/Righteousness!
Answer me when I call!
When I was distressed, you set me free/relieved me;
Now have mercy on/be gracious to me and hear my prayer.

Men of rank/sons of men, how long will you shame my honor/make my honor become a reproach,
Love what is vain, chase after lies/aim at deception?
(Selah)
But Understand that Adonai sets apart
The godly person for Himself;
Adonai will hear when I call to Him.
You can be angry/Tremble (with anger), but do not sin!
Think about this as you lie in bed,
And calm down.
(Selah)
Offer sacrifices rightly/Offer the sacrifices of righteousness
And put your trust in Adonai.

Many ask, “Who can/will show us some/any good?”
Adonai, lift the light of your face over us!
You have filled my heart with more joy/gladness
Than all their grain and new wine.
I will lie down and sleep in peace;
For, Adonai, You alone make me live securely/Dwell in safety.

If the song truly was dedicated to the choir director, I figure David thought the singing was pretty bad. Can’t you just see the church choir director declaiming – with appropriate gestures and waves of the baton – “O God, my Vindicator! Answer me when I call! When I was distressed, You set me free; now have mercy on me and hear my prayer. Men of bass, how long will you make my honor become a reproach, love what is vain, aim at deception?”

In all seriousness, I find myself really enjoying my morning devotions lately. It is as much fun as Jodi had rolling on her back, growling, shaking her head back and forth with her rope bone flopping against her face. It is as purrrfectly satisfactory as Tom’s settling into just the right position and kneading the nearest object – usually my leg or stomach – with his front paws. It is as intensely interesting as carefully peeling layers of skin to discover the internal organs of the fetal pig and not nearly as smelly. It is as adrenaline spiking as diving off a cliff with a bungee cord. O.k., maybe that last metaphor was a bit over the top.

The only problem is that I don’t write nearly as fast as I read, and I’ve had to add a half hour to my morning routine.

Rotten Neighbor

2008-07-17T10:55:00.002-05:00

Check this out....it is a real interesting website that allows people to evaluate their neighborhoods.

Impressions

2008-07-13T16:43:00.001-05:00

I've had a couple of "Ahhh" and "Ah-Hah!" moment the last couple of days.

I finished reading Exodus the other day and started on Leviticus. Something that just jumped out at me while reading chapter 1 and 2 was the number of times God told Moses that the sacrifices were a "fragrant aroma" to Him.

Now, I love God.

I mean, I love Him as best as I know Him. He's never wrong, He's always good, He's just the best...seriously, He's GOD! Perfect love, perfect grace – you name all that is good and lovely, and that's from God.

But I also spent some time on a little acreage raising goats, sheep, steers and garden greens. Part of homesteading involves butchering - and I've done some butchering myself once I grew up. The smell of life-blood pouring out never leaves your memories, and neither does the smell of singed hair, feathers or skin. Quite frankly, it makes my stomach turn.

So the question that immediately popped into my mind yesterday was, "What kind of sadistic, malicious god finds the smell of death and incineration a 'fragrant aroma'?"

It really, really, really bothered me, because a sadistic, malicious god is not the God of the universe, the King of Glory, the Eternal One. No sadistic, malicious person gladly sacrifices Himself for the sake of people He loves. He doesn't qualify as masochistic either, because He clearly did not want to suffer - "Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me."

Yet the written words were unmistakable - this same God found the bloody sacrifices of Leviticus a "fragrant aroma".

Today I was driving to a work luncheon, focused on what I was going to say to our volunteers, when the realization popped into my mind.

God is Spirit. He didn't have a body when Leviticus was written. The only reason God usesd anthropomorphic terms is so that puny finite humans could somehow relate to Him and understand His character.

And the strongest sense that impacts the brain or is related to memory is smell. People can successfully battle off thought and memories when only sight, touch, taste and hearing are involved. But a scent that has been associated with a particular event, especially a traumatic event, will immediately pull up memories long lost, and invoke vivid emotions in spite of a person's will.

God is Eternal. Whatever was happening then, or will happen, or is happening now to us...is always happening from God's perspective. He is always THERE.

So when He is calling a scorched mass of blood, fat, skin, hair or feathers a fragrant aroma, He is looking at it from a completely different perspective than my squeamish sensitivities.

He is "seeing" the trust of a person who is relying on Him to forgive them. He is "smelling" and "remembering" the sacrifice of His own self/Son for the sake of the ones He loves so deeply. He is having "flash-backs" (or in the case of the ancient Jewish believers "flash-forwards") of the everlasting punishment that He endured in order to reconcile the ones He loved so much to Himself. He is "feeling" love in an intensity and depth that we can never imagine.

We no longer kill, skin, disembowel, quarter and burn bulls, rams, lambs, kids or birds as an act of worship. We have a better way of celebrating the ultimate sacrifice. When we eat the bread and drink from the cup, we celebrate the Lord's death. And He remembers too.

It is no wonder that Rabbi Saul warned the church that those who eat and drink should do so in a manner worthy of the Lord, and explained that those who don't suffer dire consequences. We are sharing in the most tender and painful of all God's "memories".

Ta DA!

2008-07-10T21:33:00.006-05:00

So, on the left side there is what remains of the old kitchen. Sort of. The wall cabinet was over the stove on the right side of the kitchen originally. It only still exists because I needed SOMEWHERE to put the dishes and glasses and spices. And the microwave, and the pots and pans...

But that is all going to come down when we can afford the new cabinets. We're going to put tall-boy cabinets in on either side of the refrigerator eventually.

In the meantime, Jim finished putting in the sink base today. The plumbing was a challenge, but at least the sink drains now that the pitch has been raised high enough. And the vent pipe is now above the sink.

You can see the line where the new OSB walls meet the old make-believe sheet rock. I think it actually looks better, not to mention it is structurally more solid. And you can't hear what's going on outside anymore with the new kitchen walls and windows (I forgot to write about the new windows in the other blog).

The counter top is still the same old counter top, but that will go the way of the dodo when (you guessed it) we can afford it...and the rest of the base cabinets are in.

Overall, the kitchen looks much better. I can cook again! Roast pork for dinner tomorrow! Of course, Jim will be on the road again, but maybe he can swing by for a bite to eat.

Pay no attention to the cabinet on the right of the stove. There is no cabinet on the right of the stove. I am the great and terrible....

Oh whatever.....

Diary of the Almost Insane

2008-07-07T18:42:00.022-05:00

You already know about the first two weeks of June. I refuse to revisit them.

For Father's Day, we had a wonderful steak, pasta salad, grilled veggies and pineapple upsidedown cake meal. I have a truly gorgeous husband...who has his own ideas about how to grill food.

Neighbor John's guinea fowl came for a visit on June 22nd. They ran around chasing down bugs, and I just barely had time to snap their picture before I ran out the door for church.

That week was spent preparing for the BIG EVENT. On Friday/Saturday/Sunday of June 27/28/29 I was the hostess for our Agency's second annual fundraiser. It was a Dinner Theater called Showtime Memories - A Lowcountry Idyll, and was a spoof on the American Idol series. It was actually a good show. There was an elderly couple, Fred and Lois (they are in their 90s and 80s respectively) who stole the show with their duet, "I Remember It Well". And Fred sang a solo "Just a Gigolo". Some of the singers were absolutely fantastic. Amanda, who sang "The Way We Were", has a rich, smokey voice. I wish she had sung more solos. Oh well, I thoroughly enjoy it. And Jim came with me on Friday night, so we had a great date. But the weekend wiped me out.

I took Tuesday July 1 off, which was nice. For July 4 we had another steak dinner, not as fancy as the Father's Day dinner, but good enough. Just good enough, because Jim started remodeling the kitchen. He took out half the base cabinets in the kitchen and put up OSB on one wall. Then on the 5th he put OSB on half of the other wall after wrestling with more cabinets. (See previous post.) After that we went to his work shift party, which I continue to have ambivalent feelings about. I'm just not a party person I guess.

Sunday was not a good day since Jim was sick. He's better now, but I really thought I was going to have to drive him to the emergency room. There was a good sermon on Sunday morning about spiritual procrastination though, and I took lots of notes.

Jim switched over to night shift on Monday, which has only contributed to an overall feeling of malaise. In the meantime Jim is still working on my kitchen. He replaced the base cabinet for the sink, a four drawer base, and a separate base cabinet today, but the rest of the cabinets remain gone. I have pots and pans all over, with casserole dishes on top of the one wall cabinet left. Bleh.

We have been eating a lot of chinese food lately (cheap and easy to pick up). I'll be glad when I can cook in my kitchen again.

Overheard While Remodeling

2008-07-07T18:21:00.003-05:00

"Who made this quality piece of work?"

"O.k., that wire's live."

"I just had that _(name tool of choice)_ two minutes ago!"

"I told you, don't touch that wire!"

"Come on, you can pick that (sheet of OSB) up. You were in the Marine Corps."

"DON'T TOUCH THAT WIRE!!!"

Maria: "Good work Jim! It's looking better!"
Jim: "It looks like sh*t." Pause.
Maria: "Well, I think it looks better than it did before." (Since it really did look like excrement, you can only imagine what it looked like before.)

"Ah, another quality job by Bozo."

"Honey. I told you. Don't. Touch. That. Wire. I don't want to see you get fried."
"I'm not touching the wire!"
"You just did!"

"O.k., go ahead and touch the wire. Everyone needs to be electrocuted at least once in their lives."

"Tell me when the lights go off..."

"If we put the cabinets here, we can put an island here, and if we move the stove here, than we can open the door without it hitting the island. Do you see?"
"Ummm, no, but I'll trust you."

"Well, that explains where the leak was coming from."

"It's a wonder this whole place hasn't burned down."

"Can you imagine having your picture on the mantel, and then one day it disappears?" (We found a Marine Corps Birthday Ball picture behind the fireplace mock stone facade.)

"Well, that almost leaves us enough cabinets to store thing in until we can afford new ones."

"Time and money. All it takes is time and money."

"I promise you it won't take 20 years to remodel this place."

Sometimes You Just Really Want to Swear

2008-07-07T16:51:00.005-05:00

Like when you walk in the house after kissing your husband goodbye, and hear a loud crash from the kitchen, only to discover that the dog has devoured every last piece of the pan-fried chicken that your sweetie made for your dinner.

Somehow "Bad Dog!!! Kennel up!!! Kennel up!!! BAD DOG!!!!" just doesn't bring quite the same visceral release that any number and combination of the three, four, and five letter words you learned in the Marine Corps do.

Mind that this is the second dog we've had in a month, and he's tempting me to send him the way of the first.

At least this one is free.

Jim called me up at work on Saturday, June 28th (yes, Saturday - a different post pending, I assure you). "Honey, if you get home and hear noises in the back bedroom, it's because I just put a dog in the kennel and I didn't want you to be frightened."

Somehow I pictured another puppy.

I was wrong.

When I got home there was a HUGE-and-still-growing red bulldog/labrador mix tied to the side porch. Jim had beaten me home by a few minutes, and was starting potty training.

Why would I be afraid of a 70 pound semi-wild dog?

Maybe because he had old scars all over his face and hide. Someone had used this poor pup for dog-fighting training. The dog also had a broken front tooth and missing front tooth in the upper jaw. And he still had his puppy makers. He also had marks from a collar, the dirtiest coat you have ever seen, and some fairly fresh scabs on the neck. I'm guessing he's not far from young puppyhood - maybe a year old. He had absolutely no home training at all.

Jim found him running around the airport while on patrol. He opened the back door of the patrol car and the dog jumped right in, which meant that he stole Jim's attention right off the bat. We briefly debated taking him to the pound. (Maria: "What if he has rabies?" Jim: "I don't know. I guess we watch him real good for a couple of weeks. The cats have their shots." Maria: "Someone might be looking for him." Jim: "They used the dog for training. Nobody's looking for him, and if they are they don't deserve him." Maria: "O.k.")

Well, after two weeks of regular feeding, lots of petting, praise, attention and firm training, the dog is turning out to be a decent dog. Jim named him Jay.
Despite all the past abuse and neglect, Jay is singularly non-aggressive. Oh, he stuck his nose in the cat's rear end and got a swipe across the face for it. But that's it. Which is probably why he wasn't kept for "training". Jim stuck his hand in Jay's food bowl the first day to see what would happen. (Hey, this is a man who puts on a vest and gun belt every day and thinks it's fun to chase dangerous people across the county at insane speeds, so it's no surprise that he would do something like that.) Nothing happened, except that the dog shook his head and whined. We followed that up by a nice warm shower, with not so much as a whimper or struggle, although he was clearly unhappy.

Jay is not anywhere near as well trained as I would like, but hey, it's only been two weeks. He no longer takes off running the minute the door opens. He stays around and lays on the porch once he's done his business. He has almost learned "sit". We're working on "come" and "stay". He has a real hard time with rolling on his back and exposing his belly, probably because of the "training" he received.
Anyway, unless he steals any more of my food, we'll probably keep this one...he knows "Bad Dog!" and "Kennel up!" now.

The Choice

2008-06-30T21:44:00.001-05:00

Jim said to me, “So which country do you want to go be a missionary in?”

Long pause. Finally I said rather weakly, “What’s wrong with right here?”

“Do you tell anyone about Jesus here?” he asked me.

“Well, yes, as a matter of fact, I had a two hour conversation with someone today.”

This led to a long discussion of the two hour conversation that I had.

I know why Jim asked about becoming missionaries. But it sort of bothers me. You see, earlier today I was talking with a friend who knew all about the Bible and other religions. She has a master’s degree in theology, but she simply doesn’t want anything to do with the God of the Bible. In fact, she is deeply offended at the idea that anyone would tell her that she is wrong in her beliefs.

Her beliefs can be boiled down very simply: 1) there is some kind of all good force out there that people call god. 2) God doesn’t always know the future because there is a part of himself that he doesn’t know and so that is why there is evil in the world. 3) People are basically good but they do evil things out of ignorance and sometimes by choice, and sometimes what seems to be evil is really good. After all, a flood might seem to be evil but actually be a good thing. 4) If there is a salvation out there, it comes from other people around us.

I tried to share the gospel with grace and tact. I explained that according to the Bible people are basically evil, everyone deserves Hell both because of the inherited dead nature and the choice of sin, and anything good in our lives comes only from the grace of God. Now that I think of it we never got to the part about there only being one way of salvation. I don’t know that it would have done any good since she made it clear that she already knew about it and had been deeply offended by a friend who had taped a preacher’s sermon which explained that by rejecting Christ she was going to Hell. She is a former southern Baptist who rejects completely her family’s suggestion that she look for God in the Bible. She stated firmly that it was her calling from God to search for him, and that she would find Him on her own way.

In some ways I enjoyed our conversation, from a purely intellectual standpoint. She had clearly listened to a wide range of teachers, and read a wide range of books about religion. I think she was surprised to know that I knew as much about religion overall as I do (not a religion major, no intention of being one, but I did go to college, and I know enough of the Bible to sound literate when discussing spiritual matters.)

In other ways I was deeply disturbed. Despite a great deal of prayer throughout, there was no sense of leading from the Spirit. My friend kept circling around to her idea that it didn’t really matter what we believed, since we could agree to disagree on things but find common ground and work together to make the world a better place. I told her that I was glad to work with people to make the world a better place, but that this world was not my home. I was a stranger and an alien in the world, and while I was in some ways part of the human family, my real family were those who believed as I did and who trusted God as I did.

She said at one point that it was obvious that I had thought a lot about my beliefs and wasn’t threatened by contradiction or challenges unlike someone she knew who had left the faith when he found out that there was one little error in the Bible. This is why she could talk with me about how she felt. I replied that I had thought long and deeply about what I believed, but that I knew I could trust God as He was revealed in the Bible. Because I knew and trusted God, no supposed errors or apparent scientific contradictions could shake my trust. At this point she said that the Bible was not literally true, and not accurate. I told her that I had to disagree with that statement, which effectively ended that part of our conversation.

In short, there was nothing that I could have said that would have changed her mind. She was right that I had made a choice, but she also made a choice. Today I came face to face with the fact that there really is no compromise possible in our two world views.

My lovely young friend wanted to find common ground and seek a common good, but the fact remains that at the very core of our beings we have nothing in common at all. Oh, we might seek similar results in a few areas, and we might a few interests that run parallel, but we have two diametrically opposing world views because we have two diametrically opposing natures.

My friend is dead but she believes she is alive. I am alive because by the grace of God He showed me how dead I was and provided His own life for me. She is helpless, but believes she does not need help. I know I am helpless, but according to the scriptures I can do all things through Christ, who is my strength. She is deceived, but believes that somehow she will discover truth on her own outside of the Bible. I know the truth only because God opened my eyes, and can confidently assert that there is no other truth because it is what God said in His Bible.

And I begin to understand the horrifying grief of watching someone laugh and enthusiastically embrace all that she can understand of this present life while rejecting and resenting anyone who would warn her of the fires kept from her by a single heartbeat.

When Jim asked if I wanted to be a missionary, part of me cried out, “No! I finally have a home, and I don’t want to move anymore!” And part of me cried out, “No! Every time I find the strength, courage or ability to speak of the Jesus of the Bible, I watch Him get rejected! Clearly evangelism is not my gift.”

So why do I grieve?

Lemon Rice and Peach-Rosemary-Ginger Pork Chops

2008-06-22T23:20:00.002-05:00

2 cups water
1 tsp bouillon
2-3 tbsp Lemon juice or to taste – BE CAREFUL, you don’t want it to be too strong.
1 cup rice

Boil water, lemon juice, and bouillon. Add rice and bring to boil. Reduce heat to low, cover, and cook for 20 minutes.

2 medium sized peaches – they don’t have to be perfectly fresh either. Mine were a touch wrinkled for being in the fridge for a week.
1 small sprig rosemary, or to taste
3 Tbsp butter
2-3 tbsp olive oil
3 shallots
4 pork chops
Sprinkle of ginger
Sprinkle of garlic (of course!)
Sprinkle of salt

Skin, core, and dice peaches. Mince rosemary if using fresh. Chop shallots finely, no larger than a ¼ inch. Melt butter and olive oil in frying pan on medium high. Add peaches, rosemary, shallots, ginger, garlic and salt. When peach are close to being mush, add pork chops. Cook thoroughly. The peaches will be completely reduced when done.

I had too much lemon in the rice, but otherwise this was another fantastic meal.

Remember the Northern Lights?

2008-06-19T23:29:00.002-05:00

How's this for a blast from the past?

Jesse was just born, Mike and Matt not even a twinkle in Mom's eye yet...

I remember the fire!

It's crazy how I get excited about that sort of thing. I think I want to go back for a visit, just to see if it is anything at all like I remember it - mainly cold, snowy, and lots of trees.

And of course the dam, and the lake, and beavers, and the dirt road to Meadow Lake....that dad hit a rock on that caused his oil pan to leak and we almost didn't make it back to the house....

And the fish that almost dragged Jim Jr. into Lac la Biche!

And the fish that swallowed the bait and was swallowed by the bigger fish!

Oh, and the beautiful tiger lilies and the cranky nuns who never wore habits and wouldn't let us stay in class for religious instruction.

Or the textbooks that had stories about praying to Mary in them one day which mysteriously disappeared the next!

OR THE BEAR! Hooray for the birthday bear!

Michelle, if you tell the story one more time about how I made you walk home from school, I'll tell everyone about how you made me get off the bus!

I miss the old rocking chair, especially back when it was black with red corduroy cushions.

I do not, absolutely do not, ever, miss the cold. I do wish I could see the northern lights again though.

Canine Pangs

2008-06-19T17:27:00.004-05:00

So, about two weeks ago we bought a dog. It was a purebred, registered Rottweiler puppy with a fantastic purchase price. In fact, I don't think there's another purebred, registered Rottweiler on earth for the price tag we paid.

There was a reason for that.

It started as we left the breeder's house. Jim commented to me, "That woman is NUTS!" No question, no doubt.

We got the puppy home, and the first thing we noticed was that she was scared of EVERYTHING. She was scared of the door, she was scared of the chairs, she was scared of the cats...

The cats chased her around the house.

She peed whenever someone scolded her. She yelped and whined whenever someone tussled with her ears or skin. She trembled violently if someone bent over her unless they were telling her that she was a good dog.

And she did what she wanted to do if she wanted to do it and only if she wanted to do it.

Don't get me wrong. I've known scared puppies and trained dogs before. I've had some real good dogs. The best dog I ever had was a rottweiler named Jodi, who we bought when she was 8 weeks old. Rottie Two was 13 weeks old, the last one in the litter, when we bought her.

But we figured that we would deal with the fear, and eventually she would maybe grow out of it.

When she was 14 weeks old we took her for her second parvo booster. While she was on the table, Jim remarked, "She has white on her chest. And her legs."

Sure enough, this purebred rottweiler from champion descent had white wavy hair sprinkled across her chest and patches of white on the backs of her legs.

“This is not a purebred dog,” I said. So the price tag for Rottie Two was now just a little too much. Of course, we weren’t planning on breeding her, but it was really disappointing that we got suckered.

(Crazy Lady: “Here’s pictures of her dad, and I was actually standing in the cage when they mated, so he’s real gentle. Her grandfather was a champion. I downloaded this information from the breeder’s website.”)

By the start of week 15, Rottie Two seemed to become a little braver. She was now chasing the cats instead of the other way around. She remained just as stubborn, but seemed to be learning some new “tricks”, like walking on a leash without pulling…some of the time.

Tuesday night I came home and Jim greeted me with bloody hands.

“The dog just bit me on both hands” he told me.

Jim had taken her out for a potty break. She did her business and they returned to the house. She waited five minutes and took a leak on the floor. Jim saw her in the process and said, “NOO!”

She took off running for the bedroom and cowered under the desk. Jim followed her into the bed room and tried to coax her out from under the desk.

When she wouldn’t come out, he reached out for her collar. And she chomped on the heel of his left hand.

He bled profusely. But he picked her up PROPERLY (hands under chest and rump) and started carrying her outside. She twisted in his arms and bit his right thumb.

THAT is when the dog went flying to land on the sofa.

Jim went to stop the bleeding, and five minutes later I drove up.

So I put the dog in the kennel and called Crazy Lady.

Telephonic greetings over, I said, “We bought Rosie from you about a week ago, remember?”

“Oh yes, sweetie, how are you?”

“She just attacked my husband, twice.”

“Oh, I CAN’T believe that! My granddaughter raised her and she got along so well with the little kids!”

“My husband is still bleeding. Do you want to buy the dog back, or do we take her to the pound?”

“Oh, I can’t believe this. Let me talk to my husband.”

“You can call me at 9:30 tomorrow at this number.”

So she called me Wednesday morning.

“I don’t know what happened, but my little granddaughter raised that dog, and she was great with kids. My husband says we won’t take her back.” (Trust me, her husband said whatever she told him to say. It’s that kind of relationship.)

“O.k., we’ll take her to pound.” Click.

So I took her to the local Christian animal shelter. They are committed to not euthanizing any animal they accept.

When I dropped off Rottie Two the woman (why is it always crazy women who are involved in these things?) said to me, “Puppies this age don’t have any aggression in them. The problem is that the house training was too harsh. I wish your husband was here so I could explain to him how to properly do things.”

I looked at her in disbelief. “We’ve had rottweilers, we’ve trained rottweilers, and we’ve had lots of dogs, and NONE of them have ever bitten anyone just because they were yelled at.”

“Dogs only bite because they’ve been beaten or abused.”

“We never struck this dog, and we were never physically harsh with her.”

She clearly didn’t believe me.

I left hoping the dog would take off a few of her fingers. Well, and then I apologized to God for my attitude towards someone He died for.

But then I called up my friend who just happens to have years of calm, sane, advise giving.

“There is a reason the puppy was the last one left in the litter. There is a reason you got such a great price on her. There is a reason the breeder doesn’t want her back, and there is a reason the dog was so timid” she told me. “How old was the puppy?”

“Fifteen weeks” I said.

“How long have you had her?”

“About two weeks.”

“You did not damage that dog in two weeks. Any damage done was done before you bought her. Maybe she had a bad birth order or the mother didn’t care for her properly, and maybe she was abused by the breeder. But you made the right decision.”

I knew that, but it didn’t make it emotionally easier. 90% of the emotional distress was watching my husband bleed off and on for five plus hours. 10% was a false sense of guilt over my house training.

When I shared my emotional upheaval with Jim (until I told him I was as hard as iron and cold as ice in my perspective), he reassured me.

“You didn’t do anything different with this dog than what you did with Jodi,” he told me. “Jodi was fantastic. Rottie was a timid dog from the start. She was damaged long before we brought her home.”

So we didn’t purchase the right dog for us. It just goes to show that when a deal seems too good to be true it probably is.

I think I’m done with dogs. Jodi was a hard act to follow, and Rottie Two pretty much made me paranoid. I can’t have an animal in the house that might bite our children. I know most dogs never bite their people, but I’m not ready to take that chance until well after our sons come home.

Trying Out for the Darwin Awards

2008-06-15T21:11:00.001-05:00

If you are ever changing a broken light from a ceiling fan-light, be sure to turn it off first.

Otherwise, while you are using the pliers to twist the old light bulb base out of the socket, the fan blade will strike you across the back of the head, throwing you forward across the bed you were kneeling on and knocking the living daylights out of you….as in total darkness for a couple of seconds.

It will also hurt for a bit and cause a lump on the skull.

Please try to contain the snickers.

Happy Fathers Day

2008-06-15T14:21:00.002-05:00

To all the Fathers in my life -

My Heavenly Father, the source of all that is good, and the Father of my fathers!

My birth dad, the source of my sense of humor, my love of reading and thirty-five years of family

My father-in-law, the source of the most wonderful man I know

My husband, a wonderful father in his own right....

You all are the best men in my life, and I love you!

Meanwhile Back At the Ranch…

2008-06-14T20:45:00.002-05:00

Neighbor John’s seven roosters competed over who could crow the most, while his ducks, geese and chickens ran around the ½ acre backyard of his single wide trailer. One of those birds sounds like a woman screaming. There’ll be a crime someday, and when the cops show up to interrogate, nobody will know anything because they thought it was just a rooster.

************************************************************************************

Neighbor John came walking down the street last night carrying a horse whip while I was mowing the other half of the front yard.

“Are you really going to push mow that whole yard?” he asked.

“It’s what I have,” I replied.

He shook his head. “That’s an awful lot of yard. In fact, I don’t think this side of the yard has been mowed since that black Marine rented the place three years ago. But his brothers owned a landscape company and they would bring by the tools Friday night. He’d use them on the weekend, and return them on Sunday. He had this place looking really nice.”

“Well, I agree, this place hasn’t been mowed since then. It needs it bad. (pause) Why you carrying that whip?”

“I bought me some guineas a couple weeks ago. I had them caged to get them to think it was home, but I think maybe it was the neighbor kids on the corner came and let them out. Now they’re all over the place.”

“They were in my backyard the other morning,” I said. “About six of them. Made a racket.”

“Yeah, I chased them out of your front yard the other day, and tried to get them across the street (he owns the other half acre of woods directly across the road from our front door). Next thing I knew they were almost in the schoolyard. It’s only about a hundred yards from the back of my property line.”

“I thought I heard them back down that way,” I gestured to the woods on the other side of me.

“’S o.k.” he replied, “I think I’m calling it a day. I still can’t believe you’re going to mow that whole yard with a push mower.”

“There’s a lot there,” I said, starting the mower again. “So I better get back to it. Good luck finding your guineas.”

“You too,” he said, shaking his head as he walked away.

So now I know why everybody in the neighborhood was walking or biking or driving up and down the road last night.

And I also know that we have got our work cut out for us, literally.

Jim took the machete to the underbrush in the side yard on Thursday. It exposed all sorts of interesting trash…lazyboy recliners, couches, end tables with the glass still whole lying nearby, toys, beer bottles, half full wine bottles not necessarily filled with wine, etc.

“Why take your trash to the dump when you can just throw it in the woods in your yard” I commented to Jim today.

“Better yet, when you can throw it in your neighbor’s yard” he responded. “In fact, I wonder if that isn’t where it came from.”

Some of the trash is now in the back of the truck, and the brush pile is as high as the trailer.

After Jim left for work tonight, I hauled out the trusty mower for day three and the second portion of the second half of the front yard. I did get a decent amount done, until I ran over what I thought was a bunch of weeds and hit a stump. My mower blade and the housing holding the blade will never be the same again. I’m just glad I didn’t get hurt.

By my reckoning, I’ve spent eight hours mowing .6 acres of weeds, sand, brush and grass over the course of three days resulting in needing about $50.00 worth in repair. Or more.

I’m buying a used riding mower. This push mower stuff is for the goats.

Hmmm…..I could get a couple of goats! Or sheep! No, a cow! Or something!

Trying Not to Whine

2008-06-13T13:16:00.000-05:00

Not succeeding very well....

By now both Jim and I have taken turns suggesting that we just burn the house down and start fresh. At this point the other one of us encourages the pyrophiliac (yes I made up that word) spouse that at least we have a home, and its not really all that bad. Technically we are very rich by most of the world's standards.

O.k., so on June 5 the AC fried. On June 6 the house flooded. The AC tech came out on June 6 and fixed the AC, but after he left we found out that the AC only worked on the front of the house. Jim crawled under the house and found that the crossover duct from the front of the house to the back of the house was full of water, preventing any air from being blown in that direction.

On June 7 I had to attend a Rotary Golf Tournament that was hosting a fundraiser for my work while Jim crawled under the house and fixed the ductwork. He called me about 11:00 and announced that he had just been through the rebirth experience. Jim estimated that about 1400 gallons of water had flown from the well into our ductwork, and the majority of that poured all over him when he opened up the ductwork. Of course this meant that he emerged from the house covered in mud, but at least he emerged. Once he replaced the crossover duct, the AC started pumping cool air into the back of the house. Hooray!

Meanwhile out on the golf course, I was progressing rather rapidly from “Wow this is beautiful. I could get into this” to “Wow it’s a little hot and sticky out here” to “What kind of masochist hits a tiny little ball with a long skinny stick in the general direction of a hole they can’t even see in the middle of 93 degree heat and 100% humidity?” Somewhere towards the beginning of this I wondered if Jesus would play golf during the millennium – which is when I decided that I needed to make sure that I was well hydrated.

The problem with being well hydrated is that you need to do some bladder dehydration fairly quickly. And the problem with that is that the only place to do it was back at the clubhouse, accessible only by a winding path that meandered across the path of irate golfers who were certain you existed only to destroy their chances at a par score. By the time I left the golf course around 2:30, I was sure that golf was invented for torture.

Disclaimer: All the golfers were very nice and seemed like decent people aside from their inherent masochistic desire to golf and distress over people rushing to use the toilet.

Anyway, on Sunday the 8^th we sat down and did some serious financial calculations. We came to the conclusion that we could spend $15,000.00 putting in flooring, re-roofing, and replacing all the ductwork before submitting our Adoption paperwork (and an additional $80,000.00 between adoption and remodeling), or we could burn the house and build a new one before adopting for $100,000.00 over the next three years, or we could spend $40,000.00 on adoption and live in a house that needs flooring, ductwork and a roof…if they would let us bring the kids home to this kind of house in the first place.

Which brings me back to whining part.

Several weeks ago one of my sisters-in-law suggested that we just stop kicking down doors trying to have kids and face the fact that God didn’t want us to have any. Since this is a woman who has gone to extreme measures to ensure that she never has any children, and who prefers not to be around children for more than a couple of hours a month I pretty much ignored her.

Now I’m wondering. In fact, it’s a real struggle to hold on to hope. I know Jim is struggling too.

Backdated to June 6

2008-06-13T08:40:00.001-05:00

My sister wrote to me: "Don't forget the before & after pics!" (for our not-so-new, newly purchased home).

After this morning, it's going to be a LOOOONG time before we get any AFTER pictures!

I got home last night from work at 5:45, and found that the inside of the house was around 20 degrees hotter than the outside. Apparently the AC broke between 8:00 am and 5:45 pm....By the way, the temperature was 95+ degrees yesterday at 2:00 pm and stayed there until 6:00 pm. Since I figured that every HVAC repair store would be closed at almost 6:00 pm, I went ahead and cooked dinner.

Big mistake! The stove added at LEAST another 10 degrees to the interior temperature.

So when Jim finally got done with work around 8:30, he walked into a sauna wearing a heavy bullet-proof vest that he had sweated through in 14 and a half hours of working in 90+ degree heat. He had to uninstall in an old window AC unit from the back porch (held in by duct tape and hornets nests) and set it up in the bedroom. He suggested I call the 24 hour Home Warrantee hot-line, which I did, and they promised to have the repairman call us in the next 24 hours. The home visit would only cost $55, which at least is better than $6000 for a new unit. We got to bed way late, and Jim had to get up early this morning for voluntold overtime. (Today was supposed to be his day off, but they were short on deputies, and Jim got the short stick.) We spent a hot, sticky, restless and frustrating night.

I discovered that waking up at 4:30 am to your husband's "OH SH*T!" is not a good thing. Neither is running out into the hall and stepping into a pool that flows from the kitchen across half the house.

Initially I thought the cats had developed extremely large incapacity bladders, but not even a brontosaurus could have pumped out that much liquid. Well, maybe a brontosaurus.

Turns out the hose behind the dishwasher broke sometime between midnight and 4:30 am.

The good news is that there was no carpet to tear up since I tore it out before we moved in. The bad news is that particle board absorbs water, as does drywall, and the insulation in the AC vents. Also, the dog piss smell is back, resurrected by the dirty water.

An hour and a half later Jim was running out the door to work after he had wet/dry vacuumed the pool up and skipped breakfast. I was in the process of washing and re-washing the laundry which had been soaked, and sorting through my work bag which I had left neatly stashed on the kitchen floor next to the door in preparation for the next morning. It was thoroughly soaked. Inside I discovered a pulpy grant request I was working on worth $300,000.00 per year, and all our adoption paperwork which I had been carrying around pending a chance at a notary's signature. Also soaked was the book "The Power of a Praying Wife" that Mom gave me for Christmas in 2004 which I've been praying through for four years, my two address books that held all the addresses and phone numbers for all our friends and family for the past 10 years, two boxes of cards, and my portable hard drive containing all our back up files for our home computers and my work computer.

Well, I had a long talk with God while I pulled paperwork apart and laid it out to dry, and yes I sniffled a little.

You know what? I'm still convinced that He is going to work something good out of this. I can't see it, I can't figure it out, and only He knows how that will happen. But I'm not God so that's not surprising.

We figured that this is all part of a test. We've been seeing some results from God using Jim's witness. One of Jim's co-workers and his girlfriend came to church with us on Wednesday, and Jim has been growing amazingly spiritually. He doesn't really see it, but I do and I keep thanking God for it.

I think this recent rash of events might be part of challenging us both to respond in a more godly manner. We didn't do as well as we should have, but Jim was significantly less creative in his language than he would have been six months ago, let alone six and a quarter years ago when I first met him. And instead of wallowing in despair, depression, resentment and rage for days, God "rebooted" me after a few hours last night and a half hour this morning.

But it would really help if you all would pray for us.

Testing

2008-05-22T21:07:00.002-05:00

Why is it just when you start to feel like you're growing spiritually you get hit with a test?

I was real happy and grateful this morning. I was praising God for His wonderful deeds. Things were going great, and I was relaxed and mellow when I arrived at the Auditor's office.

All I wanted was a copy of the plat for our soon-to-be new home. The ladies at the counter really tried, but a) there was another customer with a complex problem at the same time who took up the focus of the experienced clerk, b) the inexperienced clerk really didn't know what she was looking for on top of being inexperienced, c) the "plat machine" was broken, and d) the plat didn't show the location of the septic system. I stayed pleasant...and it was overall a decent experience even if it did take me 40 minutes to not get what I came for.

So then I went down to the Health Department, who was guaranteed to have a document that showed the location of the septic system. This time the clerk was just plain....incompetent. Not only that, but she really didn't want to help me, although she kept smiling. She just wanted me to go away so she could get back to whatever she had been doing before I arrived. I smiled and stayed and made pleasant suggestions on what to look under, and where she might find something and how to operate the computer until she found the document another 40 minutes later.

I figured that since I was right around the corner, I would stop in and see the paralegal at the attorney's office where we will be closing on the house next Tuesday. When I had called earlier that morning the paralegal had informed me that she still had not received the paperwork for the closing from the bank, so she had no idea how much I needed to write a certified check for. When I dropped in, the paralegal was kind enough to give me two minutes of her time to shake my hand and answer my query as to whether she had received the required documents. No, she told me, she had been trying to get a hold of the bank all day and they weren't responding. (Normally I wouldn't believe this, but I had been having similar problems.) So I thanked the paralegal for her time and left.

As I started driving home, I called up the bank. The phones were busy so I left a message on the assistant's voice mail. Three minutes later the assistant called back and told me that they still didn't have one of the documents that "you were supposed to send us."

"Well," I replied, "I faxed it to you on the 14th and scanned and emailed it to you two days ago."

"Oh," she said, "The computers have been down all day. Don't worry, I'm sure we'll get it tomorrow. We have plenty of time since you're closing on the 30th."

"No," I replied, "We only have one more work day because we are closing on the 27th."

"You didn't tell me that! When did that change!" (Accusation in voice.)

"I did tell you that, and it changed over a week ago."

"Well, we'll probably have it tomorrow. We'll still be able to get this done on time."

So I thanked her, pleasantly, and hung up. (Score a MAJOR victory for God, because that definitely wasn't me. Believe me, that WAS NOT me. I would have normally nuked her.)

I decided that I would treat myself to a decaff drink. I went to the local coffee shop and bought a decaff mocha frappucino. I had to wait twice for the town cop to let all the little kiddies cross the road. I confess to making a gesture I shouldn't have when he wasn't looking. It was wrong of me, I know. At least the kids didn't see it 'cause they weren't looking either.

And as I was driving down the road with my cruise control set on the speed limit and starting to relax again, some....man....driving a 4x4 monster pickup truck pulled out of a gas station from my right to make a left hand turn across two lanes of traffic. And stopped. In the middle of two lanes of traffic blocking all traffic flow for four minutes. Because he had to make sure that he would be able to turn left AFTER THE NEXT HUNDRED CARS COMING FROM THE OTHER DIRECTION HAD PASSED.

I really, truly, seriously considered ramming straight into his driver's side door. I really did think about it. If fact, I deliberately came within inches of doing so. (Not to mention the person behind me who came within six inches of rear-ending me when I slammed on the brakes.) I figured my Honda Pilot could take his souped up Chevy any day. I figured I would get a new car out of the deal because he was so clearly at fault.

What I didn't want to do was kill somebody.

Well, actually I did. But I didn't. You know what I mean.

And I was no longer enjoying my frappacino.

Ol' Boy had a smirk on his face as he finally made his turn and cleared up traffic. And I think that is when I finally completely lost my battle for a grateful and cheerful spirit.

I got home, quietly let the cats outside, and started packing books away. I also finished what was left of my drink. Jim woke, got ready and left for work. I started shredding old documents so I could use the box they were in to pack. Which is when the shredder really, seriously jammed. I had to take it apart to clear the jam, and that meant I had to find one of Jim's screwdrivers, which meant I had to open up the trailer and search for it, and an hour and a half later the shredder was working again.

And that is when I started praising God again. That which was broken was working again! ("Rejoice with me! I found my coin...sheep...son...!")

In retrospect, I failed the test, at least twice. Some day I will learn. I'm holding on to the promise that "He who began a good work in you will perform it until the day of its completion." Some day this stuff won't bother me. Or I won't react wrongly.

In the meantime, I just thank God He doesn't give up on me. I really do have a lot to be thankful for.

Counting Blessings

2008-05-21T19:41:00.003-05:00

It seemed to me that I was doing an awful lot of complaining lately, when I should be rejoicing. So here are just a few of the blessings I counted. They are NOT listed in order of importance. In fact, I didn't even hit some of the real important ones. This is a mixed bag of important and relatively minor.

1. We are buying a house.
2. We are adopting children.
3. Dad got a good job during a recession - a real answer to prayer.
4. Jim just keeps growing closer to God.
5. I am married to my best friend.
6. Four different women at church gave me a hug, a prayer and some conversation in church tonight.
7. I have wonderful friends across many hundreds of miles who still bother to keep in touch even though their lives are real busy and complicated.
8. My garden is mostly growing - a real achievement considering that this is the longest lasting and most productive one yet.
9. We have good food to eat, clothes to wear, two cars, a house that is bigger than we really need, a little money left over and (almost) no debt, which makes us rich compared to most of the world.
10. I am chosen by God to be His daughter, and saved by the blood and grace of Jesus, promised sanctification in this life and glorification in the next. WOW!
11. My husband is a happy man. If you think this is nothing big, try living with a miserable one. You'll change your mind pronto.
12. I have several different copies of my very own Bible.
13. I live in a country where I am free to worship God.
14. I like the people I work with.
15. I like the people I work for.
16. I have a job that gives back to the community.
17. I get to wake up every morning, breathe without trouble, feed myself, dress myself, groom myself, and drive myself around. In short, I am in excellent health, Praise God!
18. I have a purpose, which I understand less than I don't, and which is sufficient to know in itself.
19. I am loved: by God, by my family, by my friends, by my....well, maybe not by the cats.
20. I live in personal peace - no fights, no degradation, no one trying to kill me or hurt me just because I look different or think different or belong to a different ethnic group.
21. I benefit from the blessing of those who are willing to sacrifice their own chance at having my kind of life in order for me to enjoy this life. Thank you, all you military and law enforcement!
22. My husband is funny. This really is important. See number 11.
23. My husband adores me.
24. My husband brags about me. Most recently he was bragging about my bread, but he picks different things at different times, so he's really bragging about me. I think I'm pretty normal, but he makes me feel real special 'cause he MEANS it!
25. God lets me talk to Him whenever, wherever, over anything and everything without making an appointment. He even tolerates my ingratitude and keeps blessing me in spite of myself.
26. I CAN work...
27. There is always something to do around the house if I look for it.
28. Jim likes to cook dinner for me.
29. I can read. This is real important to me in so many ways, and I think sometimes I just take it for granted.
30. I can hear music.
31. I have courteous neighbors.
32. I have my own computer to write all this down.
33. There is an adorable little girl who just turned two who calls me "grandma".
34. My two cats provide daily entertainment.

Hmmmm....I guess all of it is important to some degree, and I wouldn't want to give up any one of them.

This is definitely a better frame of mind! Whatever else might be going on, there is something to be grateful for.

"Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice! Let your gentle spirit be known to all men. The Lord is near. Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all comprehension, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." Philippians 4:4-7

Deja Vu All Over Again

2008-05-20T20:42:00.004-05:00

The home inspection came back, and we wanted to take another look at the home.

Oh boy.

For my sisters and parents, think Marysville and Nisku combined and squeezed into an 1800 square foot double-wide trailer.

For everyone else, think pig-sty. Literally, as in pet-stained, food ground in the carpets, dead bugs and trash everywhere.

The first time we looked at the house, we thought is was dirty and crowded. But at least there was a path through the collected "treasures" everywhere on the floor and you didn't have the urge to scream and run. This time....well, now that half the "antique" furniture has been removed the needs are obvious.

Before we can move in we will have to tear all the carpets out. And bomb the place for fleas and only God knows what else. And paint the walls - all of them, and scrape the ceilings and paint those - all of them. And replace all four doors, and at least two windows.

I remind myself that there is a reason this is the "best buy" on the market right now.

Jim says he is excited about the remodeling project. He loves to remodel. It's a good thing that I've seen him do it before and that I have faith in his ability to do it quickly and with high quality, or I would be in absolute need of a Valium.

Instead I'll settle for spending at least all day on the 28th and probably the 29th tearing up, scraping off, disinfecting and painting. This move might be a week long project instead of two days.

I am definitely taking before and after pictures.

Duck, Duck....

2008-05-18T12:45:00.004-05:00

We had CPR/First Aid training yesterday. Turns out the lady who provided the training is the self-appointed feeder of a flock of ducks and geese who live semi-wild next to a pond down the street and around about four corners from our new house.

These are a mix of domestic and "wild" ducks and geese which were brought in by a couple of old ladies who died last year or two.

The duck champion was telling how she goes out and feeds them everyday, and they are so tame that they come right up to you.

"That's wonderful!" I said, "I love duck! I'm hoping to catch a few, so please keep feeding them."

"Do you want a couple pets?" she asked.

"Oh no," I said, "They're delicious. I want to eat them."

The class (duck lady included) started to laugh. "Well, you can't touch these ducks," the duck lady said. "These are holy ducks. They get the left-over communion bread on Sundays."

"Hmmm" I said, "I know you're Methodist...do you believe in transubstantiation?"

"It depends," she replied, as the class broke into fresh waves of laughter. "All these ducks have names," she went on.

(This is the same woman who was telling us how she had been bitten pretty badly by a couple dogs, but rather than risk having their heads cut off so that they could be evaluated for rabies she stitched herself up.)

"If any go missing, we'll be coming right over to your house," said another student.

"Hey," I replied, "come on by. Dinner will be great."

Seriously though, I think I'm going to get a couple ducks and let them breed in my backyard. Mmmmm, duck for dinner on a regular basis....can't beat that!

Backyard Battles

2008-05-18T07:54:00.005-05:00

It started when I woke one morning to find the bird feed almost completely gone. I was puzzled since I hadn't seen that many birds out the day before, and the feeder had been just over half full. As I was working in the kitchen I saw one of those tree rats come bounding across the yard, scale the feeder and eat like a pig. It just hunkered down and ate until I wondered how such a little thing could stomach so much. Of course I ran outside and chased it away. It was back within the hour.

So I appealed to the man I swore to love, honor and obey for life. "Put some red pepper on the bird seed," he said. It worked until the birds ate the seasoned seeds (red pepper doesn't bother them apparently.)

When the tree rat showed up the next day, my very creative guardian and defender went out side and put Vicks all over the pole. Then he sprayed the Vicks greased pole with an old can of OC spray. It worked with highly entertaining results, and I thought the war was won.

About two weeks later, Jim meandered into the kitchen where I was enjoying the sight of birds rejoicing in the bounty I set out for them. "I'm surprised the squirrels haven't just jumped from the swing set to the bird feeder," he remarked. "Those are the green berets of the animal world."

Squirrels? Plural?

Sure enough, as we watched in the next five minute TWO of the little booggers pranced across the yard. One of them nosed the grass at the base of the feeder, and the other scampered up the swing set, bounded off the end and made a perfect landing on the feeding platform.

So I took the Vicks out and greased the end of the swing set and the roof of the bird feeder and sprinkled it with red pepper. We were out of our own OC spray and the county frowns on misappropriation of equipment.

Then next morning there were THREE of the tree rats out in the backyard. I watched patiently while two nosed around the feeder base and the third swarmed up the swing set. He (she?) touched the end of the swing set and decided that they would take a running leap. All the way to the other end of the swing set it went, and turned and came racing back. It made the leap six inches from the end of the swing to the roof of the bird feeder five feet away - and slid right off the roof, barely catching itself on the edge of the feeding platform. There it took a lick at its paw and bolted from the bird feeder, racing across the yard with intermittent stops to shake its paws or rub them on the grass.

All three were back the next day, on the feeder, and indifferent to me until I was within four feet of the feeder. This time my mighty hunter went after them with golf balls. My mighty hunter declared that it is almost impossible to hit a moving target, particularly if the target moves AFTER the golf ball leaves the hand. So there were no squirrel carcasses to show for the effort.

"Get me a BB gun, and you won't have a squirrel problem," he promised me. "Just use your service pistol," I replied, which prompted a disbelieving look and a snort. People have strong reactions and all sorts of laws against discharging firearms in a city for some reason.

I gave up the battle as lost, but planned on making the bird feeder squirrel proof somehow by the time we moved. The war was definitely not over.

And the tide turned when Tom came streaking past my legs the other day when I opened the door. I never saw Tom move so fast in his life. He was within five feet of the bird feeder before the squirrel saw him. I've never seen a squirrel move so fast either.

I haven't seen the squirrels back since. I'm sure they help themselves when I'm not around, but they are noticeably absent when the cats are in the window or the back yard. It's taking longer to go through bird feed too. I bought the cats a couple flea collars and turned them loose for about an hour or so a day. Since they trained themselves to think that that they can't jump more than three feet high, the backyard fence holds them in nicely.

Now if they would just stop chasing the birds.....

The new memory pill

2008-05-06T19:38:00.003-05:00

I've been on motrin for the last eight years, so I'll never get Alzheimers!

I might die of kidney and liver failure.....

You win some, you lose some.

Joy in the Journey

2008-04-30T19:34:00.004-05:00

One of my favorite songs:

"There is a joy in the journey,
There's a light we can love on the way.
There is a wildness and wonder to life,
and freedom for all who obey.

And all who will seek it will find it:
A pardon for all who believe.
Hope for the hopeless and
Light for the blind.

For all who've been born of the Spirit and
Who share incarnation with Him -
Who belong to Eternity stranded in time
and weary of struggling with sin

Forget not the Hope that is in you
And never stop counting the cost.
Remember your helplessness
When you were lost.

There is a joy in the journey,
There's a light we can love on the way.
There is a wildness and wonder to life,
and freedom for all who obey."

by Michael Card

Another favorite:

"He leadeth me. Oh! blessed thought
O words of heavenly comfort fraught.
Whate'er I do, where e're I be
Still 'tis God's hand that leadeth me.

He leadeth me, He leadeth me
By His own hand He leadeth me.
His faithful follower I would be
For by His hand He leadeth me.

Sometimes mid scenes of deepest gloom,
Sometimes where Eden's bowers bloom,
By waters still, o'er troubled sea,
Still 'tis God's hand that leadeth me.

Lord I would clasp Thy hand in mine
Nor ever murmur nor repine
Content whate'er my lot may be
Since Thou my Savior leadest me.

And when my task on earth is done,
when by God's grace the victory's won,
Even deaths cold waves I will not flee
Since God through Jordan leadeth me.

Two Reasons You Don't Go Barefoot in Beaufort

2008-04-26T19:41:00.004-05:00

There are several good reasons not to run around barefoot in Beaufort.

I got bit by a black ant this morning. Not the red ant that everyone around here lives in mortal dread of - the non-lethal, doesn't bother to bite most people kind of ant.
My left foot is now bigger than my right foot.

A more serious reason is shown below.

The doctors said Elly was probably bitten by a copperhead. Elly didn't actually see it...they diagnosed it by the reaction she had. The surgery was to relieve the pressure and release the fluid build up rather than let the leg burst open.

Copperheads are pretty little snakes. The little ones are just as poisonous as the big ones.

Speaking of snakes, there was a coral snake in the church parking lot earlier this afternoon....another pretty little snake, but not one for playing with. Or walking nearby in sandals.

Happy Birthday Dad!

2008-04-24T21:40:00.002-05:00

Dad Landry's birthday was today.

Dad lives part of the year in Massachusetts and part of the year in Florida. We didn't get to see him this year when they came down. Maybe we'll go visit him in MA instead.

By the way, I definitely know what Jim will look like when he gets old. Only about a foot taller.

Abraham and Sarah Were Separated

2008-04-24T19:38:00.004-05:00

Before you stone me for blaspheme, please take a real close read of Genesis 22:19 and 23:1-2.

I had to read it in five different translations before I could accept it. Somehow I always thought of their marriage as a solid rock, and yet...

We don't know for sure where Abraham was living when God told him to go sacrifice his son. Chapter 21 says that Abraham lived in Beersheba in the land of the Philistines a long time, and Chapter 22 says that AFTER these things, God tested Abraham. So wherever he was living, Abraham got up early the next morning, took two young men and Isaac and left. There is no mention of Sarah at all in the text. Sarah hasn't been mentioned since Isaac's birth in Beersheba at least 15+ years earlier. There is almost an air of secrecy about the whole event, as if Abraham left without telling Sarah what he was going to do.

After Abraham passed the test of being willing to sacrifice Isaac, he moved to Beersheba. The text is clear that he settled in Beersheba with his two young men who had come with him and Isaac. There is nothing in the text that declares that Abraham has a separate household from Sarah at this point, except that she is not mentioned, and there is an implication of there only being four men there.

BUT, Chapter 23 tells us that Sarah lived to be very old and died at 127 years. Then Abraham CAME to Sarah at Kiriath-Arba (Hebron) according to the KJV, the Amplified, and the Complete Jewish Bible. The NIV and NAS say he "went in to Sarah".

All we know for certain is that some time after Abraham was tested, Sarah lived in Kiriath-Arba and Abraham lived in Beersheba in separate households. That is approximately a 28 mile distance, and even in the days of roads and carriages it was at least a days journey apart.

We don't know how long the separation between Abraham and Sarah lasted. It could have been days, or it could have been weeks.

I could wildly speculate. I could suggest that Sarah was less then pleased when she found out what Abraham had done with her only child. I could assume that Isaac went with her when she made it clear that Abraham had offended her. But that wouldn't necessarily be true.

Peter lifts up Sarah as a model of a godly woman living in submission to her husband with a faint implication that it was despite a difficult relationship. Sarah had been subjected to some of the greatest rigors a woman can know. She had been childless for at least 70 years, assuming menarche at 20, during a time when to be childless was to be a social outcast. She had lived in a beautiful city for the first 64 years of her life with all the amenities she could want - and then lived as a nomad for the next 62 years. (I did the nomad thing for 9 of my adult years, and IT STINKS.) Her husband twice told kings that she was his sister in order to save his own skin. She made the mistake of telling her husband to have sex with her slave - and he did. (Hint for men: If your wife tells you to go have a baby with another woman, SHE DOESN'T MEAN IT. She might think she means it, and she might even love the kid when it's born, but she will never forgive you.) Sarah suffered through the mockery of her slave, and the constant face of another woman's bastard son who was the apple of her husband's eye for the next 14 years. And when at the end of all of this she finally had a son, the slave's bastard mocked her own son.

Here was a woman who had some real reason to have trust issues. Her single biggest source of human status was wrapped up in the life of her only child, a miracle son. Isaac was her laughter, her joy, her little boy. When she learned that Abraham had nearly slaughtered him, had actively planned to slaughter him like a sheep...I wonder if her mind snapped.

It is possible (although highly unlikely) that Sarah was in Kiriath-Arba on an extended journey without any male protection at the advanced age of 127. But the hard cold facts are that in that time period no virtuous woman ever left behind her husband and son to travel alone. In fact, no virtuous woman lived alone without her husband's or son's protection unless she was widowed or abandoned.

In my mind it is far more likely that Abraham and Sarah moved from Beersheba and were both living at Kiriath-Arba when God told Abraham to sacrifice Isaac. It is possible that Abraham was following a pattern of cowardice developed through out his life. Rather than tell his wife what he was about to do, he left while she was still sleeping. Rather than return to face her outrage, sense of betrayal, and tears over the near death of her son, he moved back to a place where they had once been ecstatic together.

There is yet a third possibility that I can think of. Sarah was very old, and the very aged are prone to dementias. It is possible that by the time God called Abraham to sacrifice Isaac, Abraham was already grieving the shell of a beloved wife who no longer recognized him. It is possible that he left Sarah in the hands of the very capable slaves and caregivers as he faced the task of killing the second most precious person in his life. It is possible that he did not return to Sarah because she would no longer recognize him in any event.

All of this is just so much useless hypothesis. None of it really matters.

Regardless of the reasons why, Abraham lived in Beersheba and Sarah lived in Kiriath-Arba for the last days of her life.

I don't mean to say that Abraham no longer loved Sarah. It is doubtful that they loved each other when they first married, but after at least 62 years in a marriage following God together they were emotionally entwined in a way that makes Disney and Hollywood notions of true love look pallid and sickly. Abraham and Sarah were separated at her death, but there is no doubt that Abraham mourned her deeply.

We do not know why they separated, and in Heaven I doubt we'll even care why they separated. It is just another aspect of their very real humanity that stomped all over my toes as I was reading the Bible. The father of the faithful, and his faithful wife had a tragic marriage in many respects.

First Fruits

2008-04-24T19:28:00.009-05:00

Here is the first of my crop for the year.

The tomatoes were a little mealy. I'm not sure why.

Pay no attention to the cat ears. They don't grow on tomato plants and we don't eat them. Tom was just a little intrigued with the camera when I was taking a picture of the tomatoes.

Not pictured is the lone strawberry that I shared with Jim. It was delicious and not nearly enough.

Wow! What a yield off three potato plants in buckets! And more to come!We had the pepper in our favorite roast veggies in olive oil dish tonight for dinner. Yum!

It doesn't look like there'll be much for the peas, but the lone flower looks pretty.

The beans are blooming like a house afire. You can always count on beans.

Which reminds me that we had 15 bean cajun soup the other day. We are still paying for it. It was hot and aromatic going down and you can probably guess the rest. We'll have to do that again soon. I'm sure the more we eat the less we'll react. At least I hope...'cause it was real tasty.
And now for the big question: assuming you wanted to pay a tithe on your garden produce...how on earth would you go about doing that? Even if you translated the crops into cash, how would you make that estimate? Anybody want to take a stab at it?

Happy Birthday Mom!

2008-04-19T20:57:00.001-05:00

Glad you made it around the sun one more time!

Love,

Garden Pics

2008-04-19T19:21:00.013-05:00

You can't see him, but there was a bird at the feeder....

No Pictures for You!

2008-04-17T20:09:00.002-05:00

I was going to take some pictures of my patio garden and post them to the blog. Unfortunately, the batteries for the camera were completely dead.

Yep

2008-04-17T18:54:00.005-05:00

There are some times when all you can say is "Yep."

"Yep. That's the way it is. Uh huh."

Yep, we're one step closer to getting a house. The appraisal was ordered today. I think the real estate agent is worried about the appraisal.

Yep, I think the real estate agent is worried about the whole deal, with reason. The deal almost collapsed last week.

Yep, we found out that only the week before the bank we used changed their financing requirements. Instead of a $0 down payment there is a mandatory 10% down payment.

Yep, I cried when I heard that.

Yep, the more we make, the less we can afford. We make too much to qualify for a 0% down loan, and not enough to buy a stick built home.

Yep, the 10% down and closing costs basically wiped out our savings and a lot of the past 10 years of retirement savings too.

Yep, we could have gone with another bank, but the rates were anywhere from .2% to 2% more, with a 5% down payment.

Yep, it also meant that we had NO money left over for adoption expenses anymore.

Yep, God is in control. He is more interested in what's best for us than we are. He works all things together for our good.

Yep, He uses people too, and has an incredible sense of timing.

Yep, I came home the day after we learned about the financing changes and found a letter from Louisiana.

Yep, Anne and Emile had sent us a gift to help with the adoption.

Yep, I cried.

Yep, you guys are pretty wonderful. We love you, and not just because you're investing in our family. You remind us of how God works through his people. Thank you!

Praise God from Whom all blessings flow!
Praise Him ye creatures here below!
Praise Him all of ye Heavenly hosts!
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost!

YEP!

The Price of Admiralty

2008-04-09T09:22:00.003-05:00

I guess today is my day to blog.

Anybody remember the disaster in Iraq on April 9, 2004? An army convoy with civilian tankers got ambushed resulting in 9 dead, 17 wounded and 2 MIAs. They only recently recovered the body of one of the MIAs, SSgt Keith "Matt" Maupin. The other MIA, a civilian contractor driving a fuel truck, remains missing. (I refuse to presume dead until proof is presented.)

It turns out the convoy didn't get the email....

...and I thought that Sempertoon was only a tongue in cheek joke.

Comic Oracles

2008-04-09T08:48:00.005-05:00

Sometimes I wonder if God speaks through the newspapers.

Take for instance this rerun of a conversation recently held in a virtually identical situation...

Or our story over the past 15 months.....

Hmmm.....God really does have a sense of humor!

Either that or we're perfectly normal people going through routine situations in life. But that would be rather deflating to the ego.

Great-great-great-great-great-great-great Grandpa Shem

2008-04-09T06:14:00.002-05:00

I started reading through the book of Genesis after finishing the Old Testament last month. Michelle, Rebekah and Jim Jr. probably remember the time-line Dad started in Edmonton that never got past the flood (I think that's where it left off).

Just for kicks and giggles I started a similar time-line on Excel. I won't bore you with the set-up details. Suffice to say it got real interesting to see who was still alive when. Here are some things that I've been pondering.

Adam and Eve had perfection. Then they sinned. Adam lived for 930 years, and he watched his children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, etc. die over a course of 900+ years. One little question left unchallenged, "Did God really say?" and his first-born murdered his second-born. Can you imagine what it must have been like to see your kids go to Hell because you didn't stop your wife from talking to someone who challenged God? (The Bible is quite clear that the whole time the serpent was talking to Eve, Adam was standing right next to her.) It wasn't until 235 years after being expelled from the garden that Adam's children began to call on the Lord. (Gen. 4:26; 5:3-6) Before that, only Abel is noted as having done something that pleased God.

Adam was roughly 607 years old when Enoch was born. He was 672 when Methuselah was born. And Enoch named his son, "When he is gone it will come". I wonder if Adam hoped to see the one who would crush the serpent's head after 907 years of watching the bitter results of his own wussiness before his own death. (I happen to think that a man who is a wuss is a man who is sinning. Wussiness implies that a man SHOULD act, and fails to do so out of some type of fear. Revelation 21:8 reads, "But as for the cowardly, the untrustworthy, the vile, the murderers, the sexually immoral, those involved with the occult and with drugs, idol-worshippers and all liars -- their destiny is the lake burning with fire and sulfur, the second death.")

He was 907 years old when Enoch was taken by God - the only one of his children who never died. I wonder if Adam was jealous.

Adam died 92 years before Noah was born. And Seth, who lived while his great-great-great grandson disappeared to be with God, died the year Noah was born.

Noah was around 179 when his great-great-great-great-great-grandfather Enosh died. It was Enosh' birth that prompted Seth and his family to start calling on God. I wonder if Noah ever heard Enosh talk about his grandparents Adam & Eve, the beautiful garden and the terrible plunge into destruction. I wonder if Grandpa Methuselah ever told Noah about Enoch, who disappeared because he walked with God. I wonder if his daddy Lamech ever took Noah to see the flaming sword guarding Eden and forever keeping humanity from eating the tree of life. I wonder how Noah felt as he watched his six-times great grandfather Enosh die, followed by his five-times great grandfather Kenan, then his four-times great grandfather Mahalelel, and his great-great grandfather Jared, and then....his own dad at a comparatively shockingly young age (777 years). I wonder if he was already building the ark when Daddy and great-great grandpa Jared died.

I wonder if Noah was so dismayed by the prophesy of Grandpa Methuselah's name that he deliberately delayed having children? We don't know how old he was when his oldest and youngest sons Ham and Japheth were born, but Shem wasn't born until Noah was 503 years old. That was late, even for those times. I wonder if Noah didn't start having sons until God told him to build an ark.

I wonder if every day Noah didn't look anxiously at Grandpa Methuselah and wonder if today was the day grandpa would die and the world would end. I wonder if Grandpa Methuselah didn't look crossly at Noah and wish that his grandson would just hurry up and finish that boat so he could get on with dying.

And I really wonder about those three sons of Noah. Ham was the first-born, yet he laughed at his father's nakedness. It was Ham whose children became the Canaanites - a race of people so vile that God told the Israelites to wipe them out completely, male and female, young and old, without sparing any. Yet Ham had to have helped his daddy build the ark, lived in it with his with for a year, and saw the terrible judgment God brought on the earth for the sins of mankind. What bitterness lay in his heart that he would so despise his own dad who had so clearly been in God's favor?

Of those born after the flood, the ages dropped drastically. Suddenly people were living half the time their grandfathers lived. Shem was 600 years old when he died, and he watched his son, grandson and five generations of great-grandsons die first. Certainly Shem witnessed the disaster of Nimrod building Babylon, the tower that cost the world it's unified language less than 99 years after the Flood. Shem was 450 years old when Abram was born. I wonder if Abram ever talked to him about the Great Flood that destroyed the world. I wonder if that is where Abram got his faith to get up and move when all God told him was to get up and go.

I wonder if Abram thought maybe he would live for 400 years himself, even though five of the six closest generations were dead by the time he was 41. I wonder how it felt to see the four eldest generations still walking around when those closest to his age were dying withing decades of each other. 'Ever, Abram's great-great-great-great grandpa died four years after Abram/Abraham did. Shem died a mere 25 years before Abraham. Which means it is entirely possible that Shem saw and spoke with Isaac.

Yep, that's about as far I've gotten. But it sure does make me wonder.

Contract on House

2008-04-09T06:10:00.003-05:00

O.k., we have a contract on a house. I'm not getting excited about it until we close. The last time we were in this position, the seller went into bankruptcy and the contract collapsed. That turned out to be a good thing.

This house is still a double-wide, but it is slightly younger, has 300 more square feet, and 1.75 acres in a better neighborhood that will still let you keep chickens. And it has a wrap-around porch. And it's cheaper than the last one by $30,000. And flood insurance is not required.

So I am reminding myself that I am not getting excited....yet. The emotional rollercoaster can start AFTER we close.

Fire!

2008-04-07T19:17:00.003-05:00

In my last post I wrote about my unsuccessful attempt to burn the leaves in my yard.

That was partially correct.

When the rain poured down, I gave up the cause as lost. Night came, Jim came home, and we ate and went to bed.

When I walked out the door yesterday morning to go to church, I discovered that the leaves were still smoldering and had in fact burned a foot and a half circle in the pile. I thought that was cool and went to church.

When I got home the circle was a little bigger. So I tried (again unsuccessfully) to burn the pile. Five hours later, lungs blackened and face red, I raked the leaves apart and stomped on the embers. Then I pulled water and more wet leaves straight from the ditch onto the scattered leaves. When all smoke had disappeared, I went in the house and made dinner.

Night came, Jim came home, we ate and went to bed.

This morning when I walked out the door...

....a foot and a half of leaves had been burned and a wisp of smoke was wafting through the air.

I figured this was a job for a man and went to work.

I THINK the fire is out now.

If it isn't I'm billing myself as the person who starts fires that never go out.

Tired

2008-04-05T20:03:00.002-05:00

Got up around 5:30 this morning to kiss Jim off to work. Went back to bed, only to wake up when Jim called and asked me to meet him in the driveway with some paperwork and an apple at 6:15.

Had devotions, ate a yogurt and then started mowing the front lawn. Hey, the neighbor was mowing his....

Mowed the lawn until 10:53, and tried to set the leaves on fire. On purpose.

However, since it had rained for three days in a row this proved to be a little difficult. It took me until 3:30 to burn through half of a five foot pile.

My attempts ended when it started to pour rain....again.

Gave it up as a lost cause and came inside and ate for the first time all day (an apple, two bananas and chicken noodle soup.

Made dinner for Jim at 5:00.

So I did almost nothing all day, but I'm wiped out. It must be all the smoke inhalation.

Update on the Realtors Email

2008-04-02T07:52:00.002-05:00

O.k., this is going to blow your mind...

The agent who sent the email was the broker/co-owner of the agency. This is the typical attitude of the realtors we've dealt with here. Anyone who says that the price is too high is offensive and obviously doesn't know what they're talking about. They are completely incredulous that anyone could have a budget and chose to rent over buying such a wonderful investment that they are presenting.

Actually, I met a woman the other day at a luncheon. I mentioned that we had not been able to find a decent home in our price range for the past 15 months (we started looking in October 2006) and so we had been renting. She was completely shocked and asked if we weren't just throwing our money away by renting instead of buying. Since the program started at that point I was restricted to a simple, "No."

I could tell that she was thinking about it through the rest of the program, and was considerably disturbed that someone would actually rather rent than "own" a house they couldn't afford. So the attitude isn't restricted to realtors. It is rather prevalent in a county which had the fastest growing population in the state for the past ten years. No one really believes that things could get any worse here...after all the asking prices have already dropped an average of $10,000 per home, which is still an average minimum of $20,000 more than what the asking price was in 2006.

In the meantime I had a long talk with God last night. I wrote that I was done looking and was going to let Jim buy the house. I said it in anger and frustration, but there was actually a good underlying spiritual principle there.

I'm a control freak. I need to let go and let God and Jim. I've been hindering us from buying houses in the past that were in our price range simply because I didn't like how drastically different the value of the home was compared to other markets.

Jim on the other hand knows what I like. He's a very observant man, he's been married to me for the past five plus years, and I've been telling him what I want for the past 15 months. So if marriage is supposed to be a reflection of God's relationship to his people, and if I trust God to prepare a home for me in Heaven, then...

I'm trusting Jim to find a home for me on earth.

Hmmmm....this could be exciting.