The title seems to describe wars since World War II. I don’t remember much about it. I do remember some men fighting in the Korean War, but I was pretty young. We watched M.A.S.H. for several years so knew a bit about that war—at least the Hollywood version of it.
The Viet Nam war was horrendous for my generation. Many very young men, boys really, in my world were drafted and sent to the jungles. My husband’s birthday was in the lottery, and each day we waited for a dreaded letter. My first love (well he wasn’t, but at that age, I thought so) was killed a few days after being there.
Since then, Desert Storm and a variety of other Middle Eastern wars have and are being fought. I have watched the news as well as TV shows using war plot lines; and again, I think I have an idea of the Hollywood version.
The thing that confuses my uneducated thinking is the question of how hard did the leaders try to conquer in those wars. Stories that came back painted a picture of taking a hill one day and taking the same hill again.
Did anyone Win? I know that many Lost—lost their lives, loved ones, homes, villages, etc.
Or, did we just get tired?
Today I participated in my own insignificant battle with a large company—a vague foe out there that is unseen and apparently unreachable. This in no way compares with wars mentioned above, but it raises some similar questions.
I tried to renew a subscription online. I wanted to select my package, pay for it, and get back to laundry. But, my ID didn’t work at first. Then I had to select a new password. No, it didn’t like my password. Then the page became unavailable. I hit the back key and was given a phone number to call.
I called the number and heard “if you want English, say ‘yes.’” If you want this, press 2, or if you want that, press 3—etc. Finally, I was to wait for a customer service representative.
As I was waiting, I tried the online thing again. This time I got further, so I hung up (and lost my place in line). However, a couple of screens later a message popped up that an error had occurred, It gave me that phone number. I called—“if you want English, say ‘yes.’”--same routine.
While I waited, I tried the online method again. This time I selected whatever looked most like what I wanted and was given a “Submit” button.
I was just tired—I hit submit. Who knows what I ordered?
Monday, March 26, 2012
Saturday, March 24, 2012
Oh, Be Careful Litle Eyes. . .
I am, with the Lord’s help, seeking to be understood for the past couple of posts in this blog.
I’ve shared this before, but it is a significant part of who I am—some years ago, I felt the Lord told me that I was to be a watchman. I don’t know for sure what that means, but I do know that he said in Ezekiel 33:6 “If the watchman sees the sword coming and does not blow the trumpet to warn the people…I will hold the watchman accountable for their blood.”
You may scoff, but I take that “holding the watchman accountable for their blood” part very seriously. I’m extremely obsessive about my salvation and my obedience to His call.
Ezekiel 33:9 goes on to say, “But if you do warn … and they do not do so, they will die for their sin, though you yourself will be saved.”
So, if I warn you about something, it may be that I’m am protecting my own salvation, or it may be that I care deeply about you and want you to be aware of suspected trouble, or it may be both. That reminds me of a song. . .
That’s what I have been doing in my very preachy rantings the past two days. It would be far easier for me to merely take care of my own household—children and grandchildren—and let everyone else go whatever way they choose. However, there is that “watchman” thing, and I do care fervently about the generation that follows me and especially about the kids.
Don’t you want them to live in a better world than the one we live in--a world of selfishness, bullying, violence, fear, hunger, etc.?
What are we doing to seek a better world for them? What we feed, grows! What are we feeding the little ones—on TV, in books, in movies, in video games, in role models? Do you want kids to live out your entertainment?
Can the schools undo what is done at home? Can the church?
♫ Oh, be careful little eyes what you see;
Oh, be careful little eyes what you see;
There’s a Father up above,
And He’s looking down with love
So be careful little eyes what you see. ♫
I’ve shared this before, but it is a significant part of who I am—some years ago, I felt the Lord told me that I was to be a watchman. I don’t know for sure what that means, but I do know that he said in Ezekiel 33:6 “If the watchman sees the sword coming and does not blow the trumpet to warn the people…I will hold the watchman accountable for their blood.”
You may scoff, but I take that “holding the watchman accountable for their blood” part very seriously. I’m extremely obsessive about my salvation and my obedience to His call.
Ezekiel 33:9 goes on to say, “But if you do warn … and they do not do so, they will die for their sin, though you yourself will be saved.”
So, if I warn you about something, it may be that I’m am protecting my own salvation, or it may be that I care deeply about you and want you to be aware of suspected trouble, or it may be both. That reminds me of a song. . .
♫ Blow the trumpet in Zion, Zion
Sound the alarm on My holy mountain
Blow the trumpet in Zion, Zion
Sound the alarm! ♫
That’s what I have been doing in my very preachy rantings the past two days. It would be far easier for me to merely take care of my own household—children and grandchildren—and let everyone else go whatever way they choose. However, there is that “watchman” thing, and I do care fervently about the generation that follows me and especially about the kids.
Don’t you want them to live in a better world than the one we live in--a world of selfishness, bullying, violence, fear, hunger, etc.?
What are we doing to seek a better world for them? What we feed, grows! What are we feeding the little ones—on TV, in books, in movies, in video games, in role models? Do you want kids to live out your entertainment?
Can the schools undo what is done at home? Can the church?
♫ Oh, be careful little eyes what you see;
Oh, be careful little eyes what you see;
There’s a Father up above,
And He’s looking down with love
So be careful little eyes what you see. ♫
Friday, March 23, 2012
Soapbox - Take Two
I live in a very small world—a small town in an small unknown part of a Midwestern state; and, as such, I am not “with it.”
Usually, that’s all right with me as I look at life through rose-colored glasses and make believe that all is right with the world. Then I read or watch the news and am shaken back into reality. I see a world where peace and life are so fragile.
You, too, read about places at home and abroad that are a festering boil of social unrest. Just as the earth responds to built up pressure by a volcanic eruption or devastating earthquake, so are human conditions with pressures intensifying awaiting one explosion after another.
Yesterday, I blogged about caustic results of the choices we are making as a nation, especially upon the lives of our children. Today, I stumbled upon a new attack on our kids, a new youth craze (well, new to me, but well known and greatly anticipated by many youth).
I have been appalled by two what I would call movements of children/youth literature in the past few years. I have several friends who consider Jesus Christ as their Lord who have been caught up in one or both of these movements. It seems so strange for a heart who loves God to not only embrace the occult and vampires but also encourage their children to enjoy them. “Out of the same mouth come praise and cursing. My brothers and sisters, this should not be. Can both fresh water and salt water flow from the same spring? My brothers and sisters, can a fig tree bear olives, or a grapevine bear figs? Neither can a salt spring produce fresh water.” James 3:10-12
Today, I met another craze—a book and movie series about killing children for sport, as a reality show. Remember when “Survivor” started, we watched adult individuals compete through trickery and cunning for a prize. The losers, however, got to return home safe and sound.
Not so in this new craze—for it is not adults who CHOOSE to play a “game” but rather children between 12 and 18 FORCED to compete as gladiators to kill or be killed. In reading about the installment which just opened, 11 of the 24 children are killed the first day. Following that, the rest must kill each other for the sport and the enjoyment of the controllers and the rest of the blood-thirsty audience.
Doesn’t that sound like a re-run of the barbaric treatment of gladiators forced to fight to the death to entertain audiences in the Roman Empire? Doesn’t that sound like Baal worship?
And we wonder why we have so much violence and bullying in schools. . . People, it’s time we make a choice. What kind of world do we want?
“How long will you waver between two opinions? If the LORD is God, follow him; but if Baal is God, follow him.” I Kings 18:21
Usually, that’s all right with me as I look at life through rose-colored glasses and make believe that all is right with the world. Then I read or watch the news and am shaken back into reality. I see a world where peace and life are so fragile.
You, too, read about places at home and abroad that are a festering boil of social unrest. Just as the earth responds to built up pressure by a volcanic eruption or devastating earthquake, so are human conditions with pressures intensifying awaiting one explosion after another.
Yesterday, I blogged about caustic results of the choices we are making as a nation, especially upon the lives of our children. Today, I stumbled upon a new attack on our kids, a new youth craze (well, new to me, but well known and greatly anticipated by many youth).
I have been appalled by two what I would call movements of children/youth literature in the past few years. I have several friends who consider Jesus Christ as their Lord who have been caught up in one or both of these movements. It seems so strange for a heart who loves God to not only embrace the occult and vampires but also encourage their children to enjoy them. “Out of the same mouth come praise and cursing. My brothers and sisters, this should not be. Can both fresh water and salt water flow from the same spring? My brothers and sisters, can a fig tree bear olives, or a grapevine bear figs? Neither can a salt spring produce fresh water.” James 3:10-12
Today, I met another craze—a book and movie series about killing children for sport, as a reality show. Remember when “Survivor” started, we watched adult individuals compete through trickery and cunning for a prize. The losers, however, got to return home safe and sound.
Not so in this new craze—for it is not adults who CHOOSE to play a “game” but rather children between 12 and 18 FORCED to compete as gladiators to kill or be killed. In reading about the installment which just opened, 11 of the 24 children are killed the first day. Following that, the rest must kill each other for the sport and the enjoyment of the controllers and the rest of the blood-thirsty audience.
Doesn’t that sound like a re-run of the barbaric treatment of gladiators forced to fight to the death to entertain audiences in the Roman Empire? Doesn’t that sound like Baal worship?
And we wonder why we have so much violence and bullying in schools. . . People, it’s time we make a choice. What kind of world do we want?
“How long will you waver between two opinions? If the LORD is God, follow him; but if Baal is God, follow him.” I Kings 18:21
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Carol's Soapbox 3-22-12
Judges 21:25 is one of the most telling descriptions of life without God. It was written about the nation of Israel thousands of years ago, but certainly is just as pertinent to us today, “In those days there was no king in Israel; everyone did what was right in his own eyes.”
It was then, as well as now, a time of “humanism,” where each person rather than God was the basis for choices, for lifestyles, and for mindsets. In the days of the judges, the people were too progressive and too modern to follow God. Doesn’t that sound familiar?
Is Christianity old-fashioned? Are churches relegated to the gray-haired crowd while the younger, smarter generations have so many more entertaining activities to hold their focus?
How is that working out for us individually and as a nation? Are we better off than we were years ago?
My heart has been heavy for the kids who are the first victims of our progressive lifestyle—little children who are “throw aways,” unwanted, uncared for, and merely the accidental results of irresponsible physical choices. Since the 1950’s, core values have crumbled. We look back and mock at Happy Days, Ozzie and Harriet, and the Cleavers. Sixty years later, we are so much smarter, kinder, hipper, and more modern. Really?
Are there fewer broken homes? Fewer at-risk children? Lower welfare rolls? Lower prison population? Are there higher test scores in schools? A more robust economy? Safer communities?
It’s not rocket science to see that crumbling morality is enormously expensive, hazardous, and counter-productive to a nation. Yet, our national leaders continue to rush blindly in the wrong direction.
One example I feel strongly about is that our educational leaders spend our money to punish the schools for not solving the “education” problem. It isn’t an education problem, it’s a sin problem. Hungry, scared, lonely little kids can't learn very well. Duh!
Today, gas is just a hair under $4 a gallon, taxes are rising, regulations are multiplying, freedoms are dwindling, and unfortunate little children are being sacrificed on the altar of an irresponsible attitude of “I’ll do whatever I want—I am my own king.”
It didn’t work for Israel and the judges, and it’s certainly not working for us. What are we supposedly enlightened people thinking? (End of Soapbox)
It was then, as well as now, a time of “humanism,” where each person rather than God was the basis for choices, for lifestyles, and for mindsets. In the days of the judges, the people were too progressive and too modern to follow God. Doesn’t that sound familiar?
Is Christianity old-fashioned? Are churches relegated to the gray-haired crowd while the younger, smarter generations have so many more entertaining activities to hold their focus?
How is that working out for us individually and as a nation? Are we better off than we were years ago?
My heart has been heavy for the kids who are the first victims of our progressive lifestyle—little children who are “throw aways,” unwanted, uncared for, and merely the accidental results of irresponsible physical choices. Since the 1950’s, core values have crumbled. We look back and mock at Happy Days, Ozzie and Harriet, and the Cleavers. Sixty years later, we are so much smarter, kinder, hipper, and more modern. Really?
Are there fewer broken homes? Fewer at-risk children? Lower welfare rolls? Lower prison population? Are there higher test scores in schools? A more robust economy? Safer communities?
It’s not rocket science to see that crumbling morality is enormously expensive, hazardous, and counter-productive to a nation. Yet, our national leaders continue to rush blindly in the wrong direction.
One example I feel strongly about is that our educational leaders spend our money to punish the schools for not solving the “education” problem. It isn’t an education problem, it’s a sin problem. Hungry, scared, lonely little kids can't learn very well. Duh!
Today, gas is just a hair under $4 a gallon, taxes are rising, regulations are multiplying, freedoms are dwindling, and unfortunate little children are being sacrificed on the altar of an irresponsible attitude of “I’ll do whatever I want—I am my own king.”
It didn’t work for Israel and the judges, and it’s certainly not working for us. What are we supposedly enlightened people thinking? (End of Soapbox)
Monday, March 19, 2012
There Ain’t No Place That I’d Rather Be. . .
March 19, 1966 dawned bright, clear, and warm. For two college kids it was a special day, but they couldn’t have imagined how special and how life changing. It was their wedding day. They were both twenty-one and had a week off for spring break. Plans had been made, invitations sent, exams taken, a tiny apartment prepared, and all was ready.
The wedding was in a tiny church where the bride had attended since diapers, and the couple was joined by a best friend and a cousin—the closest things they had to a sister and a brother. At 6:30, the little sanctuary was crowded and the music started. The church soloist sang “Climb Every Mountain” from the Sound of Music and then “One Hand, One Heart” from West Side Story.
A reception followed in the church basement, far different from the elaborate affairs of today. The bride’s three college roommates served the cake and punch. They were all named Linda. The groom’s roommate was getting married the next day, so the one-day honeymoon was spent celebrating another wedding.
Many years have passed since that day in March. There has been a lot of laughter and more than a few tears as well as five babies who came as arrows in the quiver. One of them only lived eight days, but nevertheless had an enormous effect on the direction of family life.
In the past ten years, six grandchildren have joined the family ranks with another one due in a few weeks. Someone wrote that grandchildren fill a void that one never knew was there. They are indeed a source of great joy.
Today we look back and thank the Lord above for his hand upon us and for the plans he still has for us.
Oh yes, and I must share a little of one of my very favorite songs sung by a group called Shenandoah and that describes today—
♫ There ain't no place that I'd rather be
Next to you, next to me
If the Good Lord's willin' when we're old and gray
The kids are grown up and moved away
We'll be rockin it side by side
With the barbecue chicken and the T.V. guide
Well, there ain't no place that I'd rather be
Next to you, sittin' next to me. ♫
The wedding was in a tiny church where the bride had attended since diapers, and the couple was joined by a best friend and a cousin—the closest things they had to a sister and a brother. At 6:30, the little sanctuary was crowded and the music started. The church soloist sang “Climb Every Mountain” from the Sound of Music and then “One Hand, One Heart” from West Side Story.
A reception followed in the church basement, far different from the elaborate affairs of today. The bride’s three college roommates served the cake and punch. They were all named Linda. The groom’s roommate was getting married the next day, so the one-day honeymoon was spent celebrating another wedding.
Many years have passed since that day in March. There has been a lot of laughter and more than a few tears as well as five babies who came as arrows in the quiver. One of them only lived eight days, but nevertheless had an enormous effect on the direction of family life.
In the past ten years, six grandchildren have joined the family ranks with another one due in a few weeks. Someone wrote that grandchildren fill a void that one never knew was there. They are indeed a source of great joy.
Today we look back and thank the Lord above for his hand upon us and for the plans he still has for us.
Oh yes, and I must share a little of one of my very favorite songs sung by a group called Shenandoah and that describes today—
♫ There ain't no place that I'd rather be
Next to you, next to me
If the Good Lord's willin' when we're old and gray
The kids are grown up and moved away
We'll be rockin it side by side
With the barbecue chicken and the T.V. guide
Well, there ain't no place that I'd rather be
Next to you, sittin' next to me. ♫
Sunday, March 18, 2012
But It's March
I am amazed at this phenomenal warm weather here in the middle of March. The flowering trees and shrubs are gloriously in full bloom. The forsythia is also a beautiful bright yellow.
Yet, there is something unsettling about something going too well, isn’t there? Am I just cynical or a worrier for being concerned that we are too blessed with this? I know, be thankful.
Okay, but I’m still nervous watching the weather forecasts. I explained last year about farmers (and their wives) being weather obsessive—especially in the spring, summer, and fall. For a couple of months in the winter, we take a little time off, but now that spring is approaching, the obsession kicks back into high gear.
My husband drove over to a baseball game in a nearby town Friday. It was another beautiful, warm day—a great day for baseball. However, remember he is a farmer through and through, and guess what he saw during the drive—two fields already planted! Gasp!
Maybe you haven’t seen the physical response to such a visual trauma—panic, sweaty palms, frantic examination of surrounding fields, and the like. It’s March for goodness sakes (we didn’t finish planting corn until June last year).
For the past several years, the unfavorable weather conditions have caused our fields to experience planting, replanting, and occasionally, replanting the replant. Further, last year’s crop was so sad looking at the beginning—small and straggly—that is after we finally got the final planting in. However, about that not judging a book by its cover thing, we had a fabulous harvest. Oh, harvest was later than we wished, but the weather held and the crops were good.
Of course, we did not have the top bushels per acre around—it’s close to impossible to have that. There are those farmers around who always have twenty or thirty bushels per acre higher than anyone else according to them, but it’s great fun to listen to them outdo one another.
My lesson learned is that we don’t see the end from the beginning like God, (Isaiah 46:10) and so often we are too quick to pronounce an early judgment. I Corinthians 4:5, “Therefore judge nothing before the appointed time…”
You know, there are some “plantings” in my life that look like our early plants last year—small and straggly. I wonder, are my prayers doing anything? If my mind wanders to assessing appearances, I get depressed and sad and grumpy. That’s when I need reminded that harvest doesn’t come at planting time.
Let us not grow weary in well doing for in due season we will reap if we faint not. Galatians 6:9
♫ Here comes the sun, du n du du. . .♫
Yet, there is something unsettling about something going too well, isn’t there? Am I just cynical or a worrier for being concerned that we are too blessed with this? I know, be thankful.
Okay, but I’m still nervous watching the weather forecasts. I explained last year about farmers (and their wives) being weather obsessive—especially in the spring, summer, and fall. For a couple of months in the winter, we take a little time off, but now that spring is approaching, the obsession kicks back into high gear.
My husband drove over to a baseball game in a nearby town Friday. It was another beautiful, warm day—a great day for baseball. However, remember he is a farmer through and through, and guess what he saw during the drive—two fields already planted! Gasp!
Maybe you haven’t seen the physical response to such a visual trauma—panic, sweaty palms, frantic examination of surrounding fields, and the like. It’s March for goodness sakes (we didn’t finish planting corn until June last year).
For the past several years, the unfavorable weather conditions have caused our fields to experience planting, replanting, and occasionally, replanting the replant. Further, last year’s crop was so sad looking at the beginning—small and straggly—that is after we finally got the final planting in. However, about that not judging a book by its cover thing, we had a fabulous harvest. Oh, harvest was later than we wished, but the weather held and the crops were good.
Of course, we did not have the top bushels per acre around—it’s close to impossible to have that. There are those farmers around who always have twenty or thirty bushels per acre higher than anyone else according to them, but it’s great fun to listen to them outdo one another.
My lesson learned is that we don’t see the end from the beginning like God, (Isaiah 46:10) and so often we are too quick to pronounce an early judgment. I Corinthians 4:5, “Therefore judge nothing before the appointed time…”
You know, there are some “plantings” in my life that look like our early plants last year—small and straggly. I wonder, are my prayers doing anything? If my mind wanders to assessing appearances, I get depressed and sad and grumpy. That’s when I need reminded that harvest doesn’t come at planting time.
Let us not grow weary in well doing for in due season we will reap if we faint not. Galatians 6:9
♫ Here comes the sun, du n du du. . .♫
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Technology impaired—I try so hard to not be, like learning to use an iPad2 (I know iPad3 is out). Nevertheless, I am making some headway.
Today the iPad charge was down to 13%, and it was unmistakable that a connection to a power source was imperative if it were to be revived and rejuvenated. We have for charging both a direct electric cord as well as a charging stand. There is also a cord that connects to the computer’s USB port.
I have re-charged the iPad before and assumed it to be a simple task--to plug it into electric power from the wall receptacle. NOT.
If you are familiar with this device, you may have noticed that the receiver for the cord plug is at a strange angle. Thus, as I set it on the charging stand, it would not click into place. NO POWER! I tried numerous times without success. The direct electric cord had traveled to Peoria with us last weekend, but it appears uncertain that it came home with us. As a last resort, I sought to “power up” by using the USB cord and the computer. NO POWER!
Helplessly, I looked at this wonderful piece of technology, created to do unbelievable things, and thought how useless and worthless it is without power.
A light bulb went on—that’s me when I can’t connect to God’s power. I am fearfully and wonderfully made to do unbelievable things, but am useless without His power. I hate to admit but I often find my charge is down to 13% and feel totally powerless and worthless.
At such times, it is difficult to pray even for those closest to me though my heart aches to see change in their lives. I feel worthless and unworthy to stand before the throne of grace to find help in time of need. There is no joy, no strength. These are the times that I collapse into pity parties. Worthless indeed!
It would seem that often the church in general gets into that funk. Timothy said, “People…have a form of godliness but deny its power.” How can the church be effective when it denies power, when it has no power? How can I?
The answer is to connect to God’s power supply. There has to be a direct link to God to be revived and rejuvenated. Oh, sometimes I can connect easily and my spiritual charge surges to a high percentage; but often I struggle to find the needed connection, just like that darn iPad today. It was a fabulous picture of the need for recharging.
“…The God of Israel gives power and strength to his people.” Psalm 68:35
“For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power...” 2 Timothy 1:7
♫ I go to The Rock of my salvation
I go to the stone that the builders rejected
I run to the mountain and The Mountain stands by me
When the earth all around me is sinking sand
On Christ, the solid rock I stand
When I need a shelter, when I need a friend
I go to The Rock. ♫
Dottie Rambo
Today the iPad charge was down to 13%, and it was unmistakable that a connection to a power source was imperative if it were to be revived and rejuvenated. We have for charging both a direct electric cord as well as a charging stand. There is also a cord that connects to the computer’s USB port.
I have re-charged the iPad before and assumed it to be a simple task--to plug it into electric power from the wall receptacle. NOT.
If you are familiar with this device, you may have noticed that the receiver for the cord plug is at a strange angle. Thus, as I set it on the charging stand, it would not click into place. NO POWER! I tried numerous times without success. The direct electric cord had traveled to Peoria with us last weekend, but it appears uncertain that it came home with us. As a last resort, I sought to “power up” by using the USB cord and the computer. NO POWER!
Helplessly, I looked at this wonderful piece of technology, created to do unbelievable things, and thought how useless and worthless it is without power.
A light bulb went on—that’s me when I can’t connect to God’s power. I am fearfully and wonderfully made to do unbelievable things, but am useless without His power. I hate to admit but I often find my charge is down to 13% and feel totally powerless and worthless.
At such times, it is difficult to pray even for those closest to me though my heart aches to see change in their lives. I feel worthless and unworthy to stand before the throne of grace to find help in time of need. There is no joy, no strength. These are the times that I collapse into pity parties. Worthless indeed!
It would seem that often the church in general gets into that funk. Timothy said, “People…have a form of godliness but deny its power.” How can the church be effective when it denies power, when it has no power? How can I?
The answer is to connect to God’s power supply. There has to be a direct link to God to be revived and rejuvenated. Oh, sometimes I can connect easily and my spiritual charge surges to a high percentage; but often I struggle to find the needed connection, just like that darn iPad today. It was a fabulous picture of the need for recharging.
“…The God of Israel gives power and strength to his people.” Psalm 68:35
“For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power...” 2 Timothy 1:7
♫ I go to The Rock of my salvation
I go to the stone that the builders rejected
I run to the mountain and The Mountain stands by me
When the earth all around me is sinking sand
On Christ, the solid rock I stand
When I need a shelter, when I need a friend
I go to The Rock. ♫
Dottie Rambo
Friday, March 9, 2012
Techies & Nuggets
Every time I set out to learn (or update myself) on some new technology, I am struck by the undeniable need for training so that the technology can accomplish at least a portion of its potential for me.
When I first began to type on a word processor, I was thrilled at the difference from a typewriter. Some of you may be old enough to remember typing and “erasing.” In college, I worked for a time as a secretary to one of the vice presidents at Southern Illinois University. He allowed no corrections on any of his outgoing correspondence; so if I made a typing error in the last word, I had to start over from the beginning—high stress.
Some years later, I met an early version of a word processor—a machine that used no paper until the project was completed and corrected. When a typo was made, I just backed up and corrected it. Hallelujah—that changed my world!
Over the years, new technologies have appeared, each providing new operations and each containing nuggets of help. I have frantically chased certain of these technologies, some I needed to teach as an instructor and some I needed to use in my years working in the new millennium. Over and over, I was fascinated to learn and utilize helpful aids that would have taken hours in earlier methods.
My life changed because of these helpful aids. That which had been known in the past was superseded by new understanding. As you would expect, I didn’t learn everything at once, but rather little by little. Yet, I could never be content to stop learning. There was always more to be learned, more to be experienced. Just when I might think I knew all I needed, a new operation would surface, and I would marvel at how it opened a new world of possibilities.
I find that the living Word of God is a like what I just described. I have studied the scriptures for many years and may be tempted to think that I know all I need to know. NOT!
I am convinced that each time I study God’s Word, His Holy Spirit doles out a few more nuggets and a little more understanding—a little more of what I need for my personal guidance or what I can share with others. These have been more life changing than the all technologies I have learned; and therefore, I continually seek to learn more, understand more, and be transformed more.
I, for sure, have not learned all I need to know. Daily there are circumstances that cross my path; and if I haven’t had the training by the Holy Spirit, I am of little value as a positive force. Without His training, there is much practical wisdom for living of which I have no awareness. Therefore, I am excited to learn!
My mouth will speak words of wisdom; the meditation of my heart will give you understanding.” Psalm 49:3
I would so much like to be a computer geek!
When I first began to type on a word processor, I was thrilled at the difference from a typewriter. Some of you may be old enough to remember typing and “erasing.” In college, I worked for a time as a secretary to one of the vice presidents at Southern Illinois University. He allowed no corrections on any of his outgoing correspondence; so if I made a typing error in the last word, I had to start over from the beginning—high stress.
Some years later, I met an early version of a word processor—a machine that used no paper until the project was completed and corrected. When a typo was made, I just backed up and corrected it. Hallelujah—that changed my world!
Over the years, new technologies have appeared, each providing new operations and each containing nuggets of help. I have frantically chased certain of these technologies, some I needed to teach as an instructor and some I needed to use in my years working in the new millennium. Over and over, I was fascinated to learn and utilize helpful aids that would have taken hours in earlier methods.
My life changed because of these helpful aids. That which had been known in the past was superseded by new understanding. As you would expect, I didn’t learn everything at once, but rather little by little. Yet, I could never be content to stop learning. There was always more to be learned, more to be experienced. Just when I might think I knew all I needed, a new operation would surface, and I would marvel at how it opened a new world of possibilities.
I find that the living Word of God is a like what I just described. I have studied the scriptures for many years and may be tempted to think that I know all I need to know. NOT!
I am convinced that each time I study God’s Word, His Holy Spirit doles out a few more nuggets and a little more understanding—a little more of what I need for my personal guidance or what I can share with others. These have been more life changing than the all technologies I have learned; and therefore, I continually seek to learn more, understand more, and be transformed more.
I, for sure, have not learned all I need to know. Daily there are circumstances that cross my path; and if I haven’t had the training by the Holy Spirit, I am of little value as a positive force. Without His training, there is much practical wisdom for living of which I have no awareness. Therefore, I am excited to learn!
My mouth will speak words of wisdom; the meditation of my heart will give you understanding.” Psalm 49:3
I would so much like to be a computer geek!
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Greek Yogurt
A darling lady told me this morning that she loved living in Illinois—the weather's not boring. It was warm, then it snowed, and now it’s warm again. By the way, that snow was beautiful. Every bush was a lace masterpiece; every tree was decorated more beautifully than any human hand could do.
Two grandsons went out to frolic in the snow to build the proverbial snowman. My son rolled the bottom which was huge. The 5-year-old rolled the middle part, and the 2-year-old made(?) the head. His snow attire made him so top heavy that when he fell, he was like a turtle on its back. So funny! Their mother found limbs, candies, and a scarf to finish off the creation. It was a new experience.
Still, Illinois weather, as the lady mentioned, is what she and I have always known. There’s comfort in things being the same (old dogs and new tricks).
Likewise, many of us aren’t good at trying new foods. I often hear little voices, “I don’t like that” and I respond along with Dr. Seuss, “Try them, try them and you may.” But, after wrinkling their faces and squinting the eyes to taste a tiny morsel, their usual response is a quick head shake accompanied by sputtering.
We more mature people are different, right? I am trying to like yogurt and kinda’ do if it’s fruity. Yes, I nod egotistically at my willingness to try new food. Just when I think I have conquered yogurt, “Greek Yogurt” comes along with the TV commercials extolling the superiority of the latter. Here we go again. It tastes different or maybe it’s the texture—uber creamy.
You know, that may be a visual aid for spiritual food. It’s comfortable to read and hear messages on a few certain scriptures—familiar words (food) we have always been fed. Each of us may think that OUR group in OUR church has eaten those words quite nicely for decades and we don’t need any other verses.
But what happens if the Lord leads us to unfamiliar scriptures, different from what we have always eaten? What if the message, while still adhering to the scriptures, is new to us? Do we sing “Where He leads me I will follow; what He feeds me I will swallow…..”?
Or do we wrinkle our faces and squint our eyes and make a quick response of shaking our heads and sputter and spit out the morsel? Do we stand up to Joshua and declare we don’t march around in OUR church? Do we say to Jesus that we don’t spit in the dirt and heal a blind man’s eyes in OUR church? Or do we with the boy Samuel say “Speak Lord for your servant is listening.”
There are doctrines evident by the church names on our buildings that represent issues that divide us like methods of baptism, traditions of the past, styles of worship, musical instruments, liturgies, gifts of the Holy Spirit, and as many more as there are denominations. Perhaps the Lord wants each of us to break out of our comfortable handful of scriptures and seek to feast on every word that proceeds from the mouth of God.
I’m willing, but it may take me a little time to love Greek yogurt.
Two grandsons went out to frolic in the snow to build the proverbial snowman. My son rolled the bottom which was huge. The 5-year-old rolled the middle part, and the 2-year-old made(?) the head. His snow attire made him so top heavy that when he fell, he was like a turtle on its back. So funny! Their mother found limbs, candies, and a scarf to finish off the creation. It was a new experience.
Still, Illinois weather, as the lady mentioned, is what she and I have always known. There’s comfort in things being the same (old dogs and new tricks).
Likewise, many of us aren’t good at trying new foods. I often hear little voices, “I don’t like that” and I respond along with Dr. Seuss, “Try them, try them and you may.” But, after wrinkling their faces and squinting the eyes to taste a tiny morsel, their usual response is a quick head shake accompanied by sputtering.
We more mature people are different, right? I am trying to like yogurt and kinda’ do if it’s fruity. Yes, I nod egotistically at my willingness to try new food. Just when I think I have conquered yogurt, “Greek Yogurt” comes along with the TV commercials extolling the superiority of the latter. Here we go again. It tastes different or maybe it’s the texture—uber creamy.
You know, that may be a visual aid for spiritual food. It’s comfortable to read and hear messages on a few certain scriptures—familiar words (food) we have always been fed. Each of us may think that OUR group in OUR church has eaten those words quite nicely for decades and we don’t need any other verses.
But what happens if the Lord leads us to unfamiliar scriptures, different from what we have always eaten? What if the message, while still adhering to the scriptures, is new to us? Do we sing “Where He leads me I will follow; what He feeds me I will swallow…..”?
Or do we wrinkle our faces and squint our eyes and make a quick response of shaking our heads and sputter and spit out the morsel? Do we stand up to Joshua and declare we don’t march around in OUR church? Do we say to Jesus that we don’t spit in the dirt and heal a blind man’s eyes in OUR church? Or do we with the boy Samuel say “Speak Lord for your servant is listening.”
There are doctrines evident by the church names on our buildings that represent issues that divide us like methods of baptism, traditions of the past, styles of worship, musical instruments, liturgies, gifts of the Holy Spirit, and as many more as there are denominations. Perhaps the Lord wants each of us to break out of our comfortable handful of scriptures and seek to feast on every word that proceeds from the mouth of God.
I’m willing, but it may take me a little time to love Greek yogurt.
Saturday, March 3, 2012
Plan D
I’m not a great planner, but I do better if I make lists. I also tend to make plans when there are specific activities scheduled that we want to attend. This weekend, it was a dance competition in St. Louis for two of our granddaughters.
Plan A was to be packed and ready to leave on Friday as soon as school was out. Reservations were made weeks ago and we looked up routes and nearby restaurants. So far, so good!
Very early Friday morning, the sound of the flu visiting our house was heard. My husband rarely gets sick, but this time he really was. Fortunately, the flu bug, like its reputation, proved to be short-lived; but it was unmistakable that the trip was off. Cross out Plan A.
Saturday morning, we came up with Plan B, but for reasons you don’t care about that fell through. Cross out Plan B.
Another plan was made. Nope, it didn’t work out. Cross out Plan C.
Okay, how about this—we'll go see our new granddaughter and her brother and parents on Sunday. Perhaps Plan D may work out.
I said all that to say, it can be exceedingly frustrating for plans not to work out. That’s when I turn to the scriptures for encouragement, or maybe I should call it instruction.
The LORD knows all human plans; he knows that they are futile.Psalm 94:11 (That sounds right!)
Many are the plans in a person’s heart, but it is the LORD’s purpose that prevails. Proverbs 19:21 (I'm glad about that)
And everyone’s favorite: For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.
Through all the plans that have not worked out in my life, I have come to understand better and better—“My times are in your hands…” Psalms 31:15
Plan A was to be packed and ready to leave on Friday as soon as school was out. Reservations were made weeks ago and we looked up routes and nearby restaurants. So far, so good!
Very early Friday morning, the sound of the flu visiting our house was heard. My husband rarely gets sick, but this time he really was. Fortunately, the flu bug, like its reputation, proved to be short-lived; but it was unmistakable that the trip was off. Cross out Plan A.
Saturday morning, we came up with Plan B, but for reasons you don’t care about that fell through. Cross out Plan B.
Another plan was made. Nope, it didn’t work out. Cross out Plan C.
Okay, how about this—we'll go see our new granddaughter and her brother and parents on Sunday. Perhaps Plan D may work out.
I said all that to say, it can be exceedingly frustrating for plans not to work out. That’s when I turn to the scriptures for encouragement, or maybe I should call it instruction.
The LORD knows all human plans; he knows that they are futile.Psalm 94:11 (That sounds right!)
Many are the plans in a person’s heart, but it is the LORD’s purpose that prevails. Proverbs 19:21 (I'm glad about that)
And everyone’s favorite: For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.
Through all the plans that have not worked out in my life, I have come to understand better and better—“My times are in your hands…” Psalms 31:15
Friday, March 2, 2012
The Day According to Asaph
Writing in my blog yesterday (after an 8 month hiatus) felt good. This will be easy I assured myself. Hmmm… What has God shown me today? Maybe not so easy.
Well, today WAS to be the start of a 3-day fun holiday to St. Louis with the dancing granddaughters.
However, I awoke this morning to the sound of my husband (uh how can I say this?) um, the sound of my husband suffering from the stomach flu. Bless his ♥, he rarely gets sick and like the rest of us doesn’t like it at all. It was evident—no dancing holiday for us this weekend. Bummer!
Then came the TV warnings of threatening severe weather and the tornado watch for us. While our area fortunately escaped the serious storms, we did experience the fears and the what-if’s—especially for our little ones at school or at child care, away from our protection. (I don’t know why we moms think we can shield them from something so powerful, but it feels safer to have them close).
It’s times like these—when my plans are thwarted, when sickness attacks, or when storms threaten that I love that I am a child of the Most High God and that He gave us a manual for our help. He’s the one who wrote down that He knows the plans He has for us, that our times are in His hand, that He is the Lord that heals us, and the one who gave us Psalm 91 as well as many other promises of protection.
I have found that the ugly dark spirits that come against my mind can best be fought the same way Jesus fought Satan in the wilderness—“It is written...” My part is to learn what the manual says. Then I have a weapon to fight disappointment, sickness, and fear using the sword of the Spirit—the Word of God.
♫ Call upon me in the day of trouble
Call upon me in the day of trouble
I will deliver you, I will deliver you
And you shall glorify me. ♫
A song of Asaph - Psalm 50:15
Well, today WAS to be the start of a 3-day fun holiday to St. Louis with the dancing granddaughters.
However, I awoke this morning to the sound of my husband (uh how can I say this?) um, the sound of my husband suffering from the stomach flu. Bless his ♥, he rarely gets sick and like the rest of us doesn’t like it at all. It was evident—no dancing holiday for us this weekend. Bummer!
Then came the TV warnings of threatening severe weather and the tornado watch for us. While our area fortunately escaped the serious storms, we did experience the fears and the what-if’s—especially for our little ones at school or at child care, away from our protection. (I don’t know why we moms think we can shield them from something so powerful, but it feels safer to have them close).
It’s times like these—when my plans are thwarted, when sickness attacks, or when storms threaten that I love that I am a child of the Most High God and that He gave us a manual for our help. He’s the one who wrote down that He knows the plans He has for us, that our times are in His hand, that He is the Lord that heals us, and the one who gave us Psalm 91 as well as many other promises of protection.
I have found that the ugly dark spirits that come against my mind can best be fought the same way Jesus fought Satan in the wilderness—“It is written...” My part is to learn what the manual says. Then I have a weapon to fight disappointment, sickness, and fear using the sword of the Spirit—the Word of God.
♫ Call upon me in the day of trouble
Call upon me in the day of trouble
I will deliver you, I will deliver you
And you shall glorify me. ♫
A song of Asaph - Psalm 50:15
Thursday, March 1, 2012
The Gift Goes On. . .
Oh, I’m so embarrassed! There I was at a weekly Bible Study class minding my own business when the subject of spiritual gifts came up. People expressed thoughts, mostly on how they saw other people’s gifts to the body of Christ. Then it happened—someone very kindly mentioned they thought I had a gift of writing a blog that spoke to their lives.
My chin dropped to my chest and I squirmed in my chair as I sought to disappear. I was discomfited before heaven and earth—well at least before heaven and the others in the room. Remorse, regret, and repentance overwhelmed me. If my blog is indeed a gift for the body, I have been negligent to the gracious gift-giver and have set that little box up on a shelf.
My husband (generally my biggest supporter) pointed out that I hadn’t written since July. How did he know that? I had no clue of the time frame; but as I checked today, he was exactly right—July 3! Here it is eight months later and I’m embarrassed as I begin to wander once again through my thoughts. I frantically sought excuses.
Surely God knows I’ve been busy. Again, it was my darling husband that pointed out last night that I’ve been retired from my job for the past two months. Sigh! No excuse.
However, I’m not going to wallow alone in my embarrassment because just maybe the public reprimand of my shortcoming was a visual aid for YOU who might read this blog. Perhaps God is also asking you to consider the gifts you have been given that may be stored conveniently away on a shelf.
How thoughtless it is of us to take lightly what the Almighty God has given us, whether it be abilities, passions, or gentle nudges. So, here I am red-faced but eager to do God’s will. Now, it’s your turn—what gift do you need to unpack?
My chin dropped to my chest and I squirmed in my chair as I sought to disappear. I was discomfited before heaven and earth—well at least before heaven and the others in the room. Remorse, regret, and repentance overwhelmed me. If my blog is indeed a gift for the body, I have been negligent to the gracious gift-giver and have set that little box up on a shelf.
My husband (generally my biggest supporter) pointed out that I hadn’t written since July. How did he know that? I had no clue of the time frame; but as I checked today, he was exactly right—July 3! Here it is eight months later and I’m embarrassed as I begin to wander once again through my thoughts. I frantically sought excuses.
Surely God knows I’ve been busy. Again, it was my darling husband that pointed out last night that I’ve been retired from my job for the past two months. Sigh! No excuse.
However, I’m not going to wallow alone in my embarrassment because just maybe the public reprimand of my shortcoming was a visual aid for YOU who might read this blog. Perhaps God is also asking you to consider the gifts you have been given that may be stored conveniently away on a shelf.
How thoughtless it is of us to take lightly what the Almighty God has given us, whether it be abilities, passions, or gentle nudges. So, here I am red-faced but eager to do God’s will. Now, it’s your turn—what gift do you need to unpack?
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