Interesting Morning
Perhaps it started when I hit the snooze button one too many times. Oh, all right, 3 or 4 too many times. Rick had to take his shower since we were up too late working on math last night for his nightly ablution. While Rick was in the shower and I was walking the dog, Ron decided to straighten his brother's glasses which had become distorted through normal boy activity (wrestling, basketetball, sitting on them). Ron is handy and was confident that he could fix them. He might have been successful if he hadn't popped the lens into the unflushed toilet. Note to their future wives - don't blame their Mom for this bad habit. I've been working on them for years to take one second (or less) and push that little lever.
Tuesday, March 30, 2004
Monday, March 29, 2004
Little Bean River
Come back with me to a time
long gone
My ancestors walked this
Way
They came from the north and the
East
Following this river down
This river, my river
Gave them life; now
No one sees the water
My husband wrote this last semester as part of an assignment to write a poem in the style of the Chinese poetry they were studying in his Humanities class.
The Miami Indians called the St. Joseph River the “Little Bean River,” thus the title. When the Miami moved into this part of Indiana, they found the river that the French called the St. Joseph.
My husband's ancestors truly walked the banks of the St. Joseph and the banks of Cedar Creek. In the late 1930s, his grandfather was on a crew that built dams on the St. Joseph at Leo and Spencerville, as well as the dam at Cedarville on Cedar Creek.
The St. Joseph is ignored by most people despite its historical significance to this area. Ten thousand coaches cross the bridge on Coliseum Blvd. everyday, yet no one even looks at the river. The St. Joseph River is arguably the primary reason that Fort Wayne was settled; yet, Americans ignore their rivers, and their past.
His poem, “Little Bean River,” was inspired, in part, by “Passing Ti-en Men Street,” by Po chu-i. Po chu-I mentions mountains twice in the poem; the first reference is in line 1, when he names the mountain, and the second reference is contained in the last line when he says, mournfully, that no one looks at the mountains. This line is the line that inspired, partially, “Little Bean River.” When Po chu-I says “a thousand coaches, ten thousand horsemen pass,” my husband was reminded of the traffic on Coliseum when “not one man” will “turn his head and look at the river.”
We have two properties on the St. Joe River and spend a lot of time on it and by it. The "Boys Club," just north of Leo, is where we camp and canoe. And, yes, there is a boys club on the land. I'm allowed in but not allowed to decorate. "The Highlands," upriver near the Covered Bridge, is where we have our tree farm. A day at the Highlands is usually a day of hard work.
Come back with me to a time
long gone
My ancestors walked this
Way
They came from the north and the
East
Following this river down
This river, my river
Gave them life; now
No one sees the water
My husband wrote this last semester as part of an assignment to write a poem in the style of the Chinese poetry they were studying in his Humanities class.
The Miami Indians called the St. Joseph River the “Little Bean River,” thus the title. When the Miami moved into this part of Indiana, they found the river that the French called the St. Joseph.
My husband's ancestors truly walked the banks of the St. Joseph and the banks of Cedar Creek. In the late 1930s, his grandfather was on a crew that built dams on the St. Joseph at Leo and Spencerville, as well as the dam at Cedarville on Cedar Creek.
The St. Joseph is ignored by most people despite its historical significance to this area. Ten thousand coaches cross the bridge on Coliseum Blvd. everyday, yet no one even looks at the river. The St. Joseph River is arguably the primary reason that Fort Wayne was settled; yet, Americans ignore their rivers, and their past.
His poem, “Little Bean River,” was inspired, in part, by “Passing Ti-en Men Street,” by Po chu-i. Po chu-I mentions mountains twice in the poem; the first reference is in line 1, when he names the mountain, and the second reference is contained in the last line when he says, mournfully, that no one looks at the mountains. This line is the line that inspired, partially, “Little Bean River.” When Po chu-I says “a thousand coaches, ten thousand horsemen pass,” my husband was reminded of the traffic on Coliseum when “not one man” will “turn his head and look at the river.”
We have two properties on the St. Joe River and spend a lot of time on it and by it. The "Boys Club," just north of Leo, is where we camp and canoe. And, yes, there is a boys club on the land. I'm allowed in but not allowed to decorate. "The Highlands," upriver near the Covered Bridge, is where we have our tree farm. A day at the Highlands is usually a day of hard work.
Friday, March 26, 2004
Quiz
Being a reader, I was attracted to this quiz. I'm not sure about the results - but I am a cynic and a dreamer.
Darling, it seems that you belong in Gone with the
Wind; the proper place for a romantic. You
belong in a tumultous world of changes and
opportunities, where your independence paves
the road for your survival. It is trying being
both a cynic and a dreamer, no?
Which Classic Novel do You Belong In?
brought to you by Quizilla
Being a reader, I was attracted to this quiz. I'm not sure about the results - but I am a cynic and a dreamer.
Darling, it seems that you belong in Gone with the
Wind; the proper place for a romantic. You
belong in a tumultous world of changes and
opportunities, where your independence paves
the road for your survival. It is trying being
both a cynic and a dreamer, no?
Which Classic Novel do You Belong In?
brought to you by Quizilla
Wednesday, March 24, 2004
Gardening Fools
Phone Message: Help! I found a list my husband made: clean asparagus patch, clear out creek bank, clean iris beds at church.
This message was left by the wife of one of my favorite gardening buds at church, who also happens to be a spiritual giant and a stubborn man. Unfortunately, his hip problems restrict his activities, which means he can't do the heavy gardening on his To-Do list. So I told her that I would clean up the beds on Tuesday after Bible Study. One problem solved..or so we thought.
He saw me in the garden, went home and changed into his gardening clothes, and knelt down on the ground with a groan as he started grubbing the old leaves out. Of course, he rejected any suggestions that he supervise and I labor. So I worked like a maniac trying to finish fast so he would stop working.
The beds look nice. And I plan to be in the garden at his age.
Phone Message: Help! I found a list my husband made: clean asparagus patch, clear out creek bank, clean iris beds at church.
This message was left by the wife of one of my favorite gardening buds at church, who also happens to be a spiritual giant and a stubborn man. Unfortunately, his hip problems restrict his activities, which means he can't do the heavy gardening on his To-Do list. So I told her that I would clean up the beds on Tuesday after Bible Study. One problem solved..or so we thought.
He saw me in the garden, went home and changed into his gardening clothes, and knelt down on the ground with a groan as he started grubbing the old leaves out. Of course, he rejected any suggestions that he supervise and I labor. So I worked like a maniac trying to finish fast so he would stop working.
The beds look nice. And I plan to be in the garden at his age.
Thursday, March 18, 2004
Ron called me back to his room last night after he went to bed. He gave me a big hug and said, "Mommy, I love you." I can't remember the last time this kid, who is taller than me and shaving, called me Mommy. For a long time, I wasn't sure we could pour enough love into these needy boys to fill that hole in their hearts caused by bouncing between an abusive birth home and foster homes. Every day I am encouraged.
Wednesday, March 17, 2004
No Change
I just found out that I didn't get the job at the non-profit. They hired someone with employment experience in the non-profit world. While I had mixed feelings about going back to work, I'm so darn competitive that I'm disappointed! On the other hand, the CEO may be interested in hiring me for some consulting work, we don't have to figure out what to do with the boys over the summer, and I will have time to garden this spring.
I just found out that I didn't get the job at the non-profit. They hired someone with employment experience in the non-profit world. While I had mixed feelings about going back to work, I'm so darn competitive that I'm disappointed! On the other hand, the CEO may be interested in hiring me for some consulting work, we don't have to figure out what to do with the boys over the summer, and I will have time to garden this spring.
Tuesday, March 16, 2004
Different Perspectives
Ron started Hapkido, a martial arts class, a month ago and got his first stripe tonight. The instructor questioned him about school and home before he presented him his stripe. "Is your room clean?" "Yes! Sir!" my son answered him in the proper Hapkido manner, "I cleaned it two weeks ago."
Ron started Hapkido, a martial arts class, a month ago and got his first stripe tonight. The instructor questioned him about school and home before he presented him his stripe. "Is your room clean?" "Yes! Sir!" my son answered him in the proper Hapkido manner, "I cleaned it two weeks ago."
Saturday, March 13, 2004
After talking about it for several years, we finally have a corn burner, an A-Maize-A-Blaze. Someone had fun with the product naming. Instead of a freestanding burner in the new room, we went with the fireplace insert. It's very efficient and there is a rich fire glow in the room at all times. I'm still getting used to this black thing stuck in my beautiful fireplace though. The product literature said that the "klinker" - fused ash - could be used in the garden to add potassium. I'm going to check some more before I spread it on my gardens.
Wednesday, March 10, 2004
Changes Brewing
A friend asked me to comment on "how you're feeling re potential return to work. I know it would probably have me all stirred up, and wondered where your head's at about it. Trepidation? Resignation? Anticipation? Some mixture of these?"
Definitely mixed feelings. I worked for a large insurance company for 31 years, started as a clerk in claims and ended as an officer in marketing. I mostly enjoyed it -- the variety, the opportunities to learn, the friends I made and, of course, the income-- but it ended poorly over two years ago. The situation had become so toxic that it affected my physical and emotional health. Then three days before the company was acquired and a hiring and firing freeze was enacted, I was "terminated without cause."
Thanks to faith, family and friends, I entered a new and renewing season of my life. Being a full-time mother (what mother isn't?) to two teenagers can be stressful, but it is a healthy stress which a sense of humor helps put into perspective. I've had time to volunteer (results of one effort) at church. I took Master Gardening classes and have volunteered for the horticulture educator of NE Indiana. I've done several consulting jobs to keep my marketing skills honed. I've accepted several speaking engagements. I took piano lessons for the first time in my life. I expanded my garden and tackled some large landscaping projects. I've done work on the house. I was a charter member in one book club and then helped start another book club at church. I'm a regular at "Mothers In Touch" and attend a morning Bible Study. And I've had time to have lunch or coffee with friends. My life is rich.
Then one day my husband and I were discussing the problems with the boys' HMO doctor and our desire to get them on another policy. This led to talk about return to work. Steve is a full-time student and works at the Writing Center, so I resisted the idea of him cutting back on his school hours to work while I stayed at home. We left it at that, though, and took no action. Two days later, a former co-worker called about a job opening at a local non-profit on whose board she sits. I've had two interviews and will probably hear about it this week. It would use my marketing skills for a worthwhile cause and they even suggested that the job could be part-time (with benefits). I'm skeptical that the job could be done on a part-time basis, but I love the idea.
So I am left with mixed feelings. If it happens, we will adjust and I will enjoy the work. If it doesn't happen, we will try to get the HMO doctor changed or perhaps I can pursue similar jobs with other non-profits. Since this process started, I've seen two similar jobs in the paper.
My biggest concern is that this opportunity comes at the spring of the year. I will miss having the summer with the boys and I will miss the time in my flower beds.
A friend asked me to comment on "how you're feeling re potential return to work. I know it would probably have me all stirred up, and wondered where your head's at about it. Trepidation? Resignation? Anticipation? Some mixture of these?"
Definitely mixed feelings. I worked for a large insurance company for 31 years, started as a clerk in claims and ended as an officer in marketing. I mostly enjoyed it -- the variety, the opportunities to learn, the friends I made and, of course, the income-- but it ended poorly over two years ago. The situation had become so toxic that it affected my physical and emotional health. Then three days before the company was acquired and a hiring and firing freeze was enacted, I was "terminated without cause."
Thanks to faith, family and friends, I entered a new and renewing season of my life. Being a full-time mother (what mother isn't?) to two teenagers can be stressful, but it is a healthy stress which a sense of humor helps put into perspective. I've had time to volunteer (results of one effort) at church. I took Master Gardening classes and have volunteered for the horticulture educator of NE Indiana. I've done several consulting jobs to keep my marketing skills honed. I've accepted several speaking engagements. I took piano lessons for the first time in my life. I expanded my garden and tackled some large landscaping projects. I've done work on the house. I was a charter member in one book club and then helped start another book club at church. I'm a regular at "Mothers In Touch" and attend a morning Bible Study. And I've had time to have lunch or coffee with friends. My life is rich.
Then one day my husband and I were discussing the problems with the boys' HMO doctor and our desire to get them on another policy. This led to talk about return to work. Steve is a full-time student and works at the Writing Center, so I resisted the idea of him cutting back on his school hours to work while I stayed at home. We left it at that, though, and took no action. Two days later, a former co-worker called about a job opening at a local non-profit on whose board she sits. I've had two interviews and will probably hear about it this week. It would use my marketing skills for a worthwhile cause and they even suggested that the job could be part-time (with benefits). I'm skeptical that the job could be done on a part-time basis, but I love the idea.
So I am left with mixed feelings. If it happens, we will adjust and I will enjoy the work. If it doesn't happen, we will try to get the HMO doctor changed or perhaps I can pursue similar jobs with other non-profits. Since this process started, I've seen two similar jobs in the paper.
My biggest concern is that this opportunity comes at the spring of the year. I will miss having the summer with the boys and I will miss the time in my flower beds.
Who Am I
I hate how this blog signs my entries with "Honey." It's suppose to say "Earth Girl" and I can't figure out how to change it. Oh well, the honey comes from "Honey Bee," a name I entered when I set up the blog. I am NOT the type of person who likes to be called Honey and I am NOT one to call others Honey.
I've also been thinking about changing my description on this blog. It defines me by roles and former roles - wife, mother, marketer. The gardener is a little better since it is one of my passions. At Christmas, I became intrigued with the phrase, "wild and sweet" from "I heard the bells on Christmas day..and wild and sweet their words repeat..." I wondered if the phrase, "Martha, wild and sweet" better defined me. What do you think?
I hate how this blog signs my entries with "Honey." It's suppose to say "Earth Girl" and I can't figure out how to change it. Oh well, the honey comes from "Honey Bee," a name I entered when I set up the blog. I am NOT the type of person who likes to be called Honey and I am NOT one to call others Honey.
I've also been thinking about changing my description on this blog. It defines me by roles and former roles - wife, mother, marketer. The gardener is a little better since it is one of my passions. At Christmas, I became intrigued with the phrase, "wild and sweet" from "I heard the bells on Christmas day..and wild and sweet their words repeat..." I wondered if the phrase, "Martha, wild and sweet" better defined me. What do you think?
Monday, March 08, 2004
We launched the church's website yesterday. This has been absorbing my time for quite a while, but I had a fantastic group of people working with me to make it happen. Go poke around. Let me know if you see anything that needs to be changed, added or clarified. We are starting the "tidy it up" phase as well as deciding what to put up next.
Sunday, March 07, 2004
First Bouquet
I just picked my first bouquet from my garden - nine crocus in various shades of yellow. They first bloomed on Friday, but now it is snowing with a bitter wind blowing. I forced a crabapple branch (more accurately a limb) that the propane truck knocked off about a month ago. This six foot limb is bursting into bloom next to my bed. And I bought three white hyacinths at the store last week, so the house smells like spring.
I just picked my first bouquet from my garden - nine crocus in various shades of yellow. They first bloomed on Friday, but now it is snowing with a bitter wind blowing. I forced a crabapple branch (more accurately a limb) that the propane truck knocked off about a month ago. This six foot limb is bursting into bloom next to my bed. And I bought three white hyacinths at the store last week, so the house smells like spring.
Friday, February 27, 2004
In an hour or so, Ricky will be under anesthesia having his wisdom teeth pulled, or rather cut out. They haven't emerged yet, but are ready to burst through and wreck havoc with his orthodontia. I'm waiting to wake him since he can't eat or drink, and the longer he is up, the louder the cereal box will call to him. He lost TV and computer priveleges because of the homework situation (see below), but I took him to Hollywood Video last night to rent several DVDs for his recuperation. He must have selected 957 different movies until, finally, I grabbed three and walked to the register. He's in media heaven.
Sunday, February 22, 2004
Thursday, February 19, 2004
Amygdala
Samson, our yellow lab, celebrated his second birthday yesterday, 14 years old in dog years. That means I have three 14 year old males in my house! Sam seems to be settling down, finally, and is becoming a good house dog and watch dog. I see the same thing with my sons, on the cusp of manhood, there are glimmers of hope. Here's an excerpt from a health report Ricky did this year:
"Scientists recently found out that the amygdala, 'a tiny bundle of nerves mediates emotions such as fear, anger and anxiety,' takes over teenagers’ brains. As teens get older, their frontal lobes, reason and judgment, control the emotions from the amygdala."
Samson, our yellow lab, celebrated his second birthday yesterday, 14 years old in dog years. That means I have three 14 year old males in my house! Sam seems to be settling down, finally, and is becoming a good house dog and watch dog. I see the same thing with my sons, on the cusp of manhood, there are glimmers of hope. Here's an excerpt from a health report Ricky did this year:
"Scientists recently found out that the amygdala, 'a tiny bundle of nerves mediates emotions such as fear, anger and anxiety,' takes over teenagers’ brains. As teens get older, their frontal lobes, reason and judgment, control the emotions from the amygdala."
Boredom
Let them be bored. That is one of my parenting philosophies.
When every minute is filled with structured activities, there is no time for imagination. And that means no electronic stimulation - games, TV, movies. After a few minutes of boredom, it is amazing what they decide to do. Ron tore apart two old computers, then rebuilt it into one faster, more stable machine. Rick baked a cake from scratch.
It is a 12 hour trip to Mom's, and as we headed down there for Christmas, a voice from the backseat said, "It is good to be bored. It slows time down." I smiled...until I realized we had only been on the road an hour!
Let them be bored. That is one of my parenting philosophies.
When every minute is filled with structured activities, there is no time for imagination. And that means no electronic stimulation - games, TV, movies. After a few minutes of boredom, it is amazing what they decide to do. Ron tore apart two old computers, then rebuilt it into one faster, more stable machine. Rick baked a cake from scratch.
It is a 12 hour trip to Mom's, and as we headed down there for Christmas, a voice from the backseat said, "It is good to be bored. It slows time down." I smiled...until I realized we had only been on the road an hour!
Wednesday, February 18, 2004
Faith Story
I've been leading the charge to a new web site for our church. Because the church is people and not a building, under worship, we are posting faith stories. To get this off the ground, I volunteered to tell my story. Here it is.
This is a story about God.
No, actually it is God’s story. At one time, I thought it was my story, but how wrong I was. It was always about God; it is still about God; and it will always be about God. It is the story of God’s faithfulness to me, about His Word and how it transformed me and pulled me back, about the people He placed in my life, and the situations through which He spoke to me. But, mostly, it is about His faithfulness to one of His children when she pushed Him away.
I grew up “soaked” in the Word, in my church, in youth group activities, and in a family of strong, spiritual believers. I gave my heart to Jesus when I was 13 after hearing Missionary Ken Enright speak at my church, convinced I was destined for medical missionary work. I spent the rest of my high school years growing in God’s word.
Then I went to college.
Partly because of the culture at that time (late ‘60’s); partly because of a series of bad choices I made; and partly because Satan, while strong, works in very subtle ways….my heart became divided. I tried to “serve two masters”: God and my own selfish desires. I truly became lost…searching for “the truth” in anything and everything. It was the climate of the late sixties. I even wrote a college paper that attempted to reconcile the truth of all religions as one and, given the anti-Christian views of my professor, received a high mark for it.
The paradox? As I drifted farther and farther from God’s way and more and more into my way, I liked myself less and less. And as my self-esteem plummeted, I made bad personal choices and bad relationship choices. After college, I poured myself into my new career, eager to fill the ever-growing void inside myself, convinced that it was just a matter of finding the “perfect fit.” At one point, I scribbled in my journal, “I know this isn’t true because of who I am, but it seems like good and evil, God and Satan, are fighting over me.” God was ever faithful. He stood there, and He loved me. He filled me with a sense of the battle raging inside me.
God began the transformation of my heart in earnest in the mid-80’s. I began listening to Christian radio. Why? Maybe because my husband at that time forbade it or maybe because my heart knew better than my head what I needed. What I know now is that it was God at work. He drew me to songs and programs that spoke to me.
He even drew from my own lips what my heart was feeling, what He was trying to work in my life. One summer day as I was driving down Lindenwood Avenue near St. Francis College, a prayer escaped from my lips: “Sanctify me.” I was stunned. What had I said? I didn’t even know what “sanctify” meant…and when I found out, I laughed. How could I even consider being a saint? My sins (or so I thought) were too many, too deep--my unworthiness huge. But God was faithful to His words in Romans 8:26: “In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express.”
I was led to a study of Romans, where I learned about God’s grace over and over, verse after verse. (I wondered, had I never learned about “grace” during my “church” years?) So “hungry and thirsty” was I that I picked up C.S. Lewis’s Mere Christianity, a gift from a friend that I had not been able to get through ten years prior to this. Now I ate it up. I began to truly understand what it meant to be a Christian, that I needed Jesus Christ to bridge the gap between myself and God.
The summer before, my husband had left me, amidst some suspected infidelities on his part, and I was struggling to reconcile the pain, anger, and uncertainty of that part of my life with my new life in Christ. One night I decided to read the Gospel of John instead of Romans. I had read the first seven chapters when the phone rang. It was “the other woman,” confirming the infidelity of my husband. I tossed and turned afterward, but a statement kept running through my head: “The truth shall set you free.” Who had said that? Where was that from? I picked up my bible again at chapter eight and found my answer. Jesus says in verse 32: “Then you shall know the truth, and the truth shall set you free.” I was on my knees then, thanking God for His very real presence during my pain.
I began “church shopping,” basing my initial impression of each church on its sign out front. Of all the signs I saw that week, Huntertown United Methodist’s sign was the only “spiritual” one, so I attended worship that next Sunday. Reverent Jack Scott led the congregation with the singing of “What a Friend We Have in Jesus.” I broke down. I began to feel “at home.” Then when it was announced that money was being raised for John Enright’s mission in Africa, I knew I was where God wanted me. It had been John’s father, Ken Enright, so many years ago in my home church that had first stirred my heart to begin walking (and stumbling!) with Jesus.
I stayed at HUMC, where I “fed” my spirit and grew in my faith. Two years later, I met a godly man, and soon we were married. What a blessing to be able to share our faith walk. I began to feel God’s goodness in my life again…Yet He was far from finished with me.
He provided another opportunity to show His faithfulness to me when we weren’t able to have children. Though we knew He was working in our lives, I especially struggled with the pain of being childless. As we pursued adoption, we felt God’s hand on the whole process, having been given Mark 9:37 to encourage us: “Whoever receives one of these little children in My name receives Me; and whoever receives Me, receives not Me but Him who sent Me.” A year later, we adopted twin five-year-old boys. They have blessed our lives immeasurably.
My “wanderings” took me to some unsavory places and hooked me up with some wild people, but through it all, God never stopped loving me, never stopped being faithful to me. In the end, I was finally on God’s way, not my own. If you are wandering or if you have a loved one who is wandering, let my story encourage you. Don’t stop seeking God and don’t stop praying. He is faithful and He is in the transformation business.
I've been leading the charge to a new web site for our church. Because the church is people and not a building, under worship, we are posting faith stories. To get this off the ground, I volunteered to tell my story. Here it is.
This is a story about God.
No, actually it is God’s story. At one time, I thought it was my story, but how wrong I was. It was always about God; it is still about God; and it will always be about God. It is the story of God’s faithfulness to me, about His Word and how it transformed me and pulled me back, about the people He placed in my life, and the situations through which He spoke to me. But, mostly, it is about His faithfulness to one of His children when she pushed Him away.
I grew up “soaked” in the Word, in my church, in youth group activities, and in a family of strong, spiritual believers. I gave my heart to Jesus when I was 13 after hearing Missionary Ken Enright speak at my church, convinced I was destined for medical missionary work. I spent the rest of my high school years growing in God’s word.
Then I went to college.
Partly because of the culture at that time (late ‘60’s); partly because of a series of bad choices I made; and partly because Satan, while strong, works in very subtle ways….my heart became divided. I tried to “serve two masters”: God and my own selfish desires. I truly became lost…searching for “the truth” in anything and everything. It was the climate of the late sixties. I even wrote a college paper that attempted to reconcile the truth of all religions as one and, given the anti-Christian views of my professor, received a high mark for it.
The paradox? As I drifted farther and farther from God’s way and more and more into my way, I liked myself less and less. And as my self-esteem plummeted, I made bad personal choices and bad relationship choices. After college, I poured myself into my new career, eager to fill the ever-growing void inside myself, convinced that it was just a matter of finding the “perfect fit.” At one point, I scribbled in my journal, “I know this isn’t true because of who I am, but it seems like good and evil, God and Satan, are fighting over me.” God was ever faithful. He stood there, and He loved me. He filled me with a sense of the battle raging inside me.
God began the transformation of my heart in earnest in the mid-80’s. I began listening to Christian radio. Why? Maybe because my husband at that time forbade it or maybe because my heart knew better than my head what I needed. What I know now is that it was God at work. He drew me to songs and programs that spoke to me.
He even drew from my own lips what my heart was feeling, what He was trying to work in my life. One summer day as I was driving down Lindenwood Avenue near St. Francis College, a prayer escaped from my lips: “Sanctify me.” I was stunned. What had I said? I didn’t even know what “sanctify” meant…and when I found out, I laughed. How could I even consider being a saint? My sins (or so I thought) were too many, too deep--my unworthiness huge. But God was faithful to His words in Romans 8:26: “In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express.”
I was led to a study of Romans, where I learned about God’s grace over and over, verse after verse. (I wondered, had I never learned about “grace” during my “church” years?) So “hungry and thirsty” was I that I picked up C.S. Lewis’s Mere Christianity, a gift from a friend that I had not been able to get through ten years prior to this. Now I ate it up. I began to truly understand what it meant to be a Christian, that I needed Jesus Christ to bridge the gap between myself and God.
The summer before, my husband had left me, amidst some suspected infidelities on his part, and I was struggling to reconcile the pain, anger, and uncertainty of that part of my life with my new life in Christ. One night I decided to read the Gospel of John instead of Romans. I had read the first seven chapters when the phone rang. It was “the other woman,” confirming the infidelity of my husband. I tossed and turned afterward, but a statement kept running through my head: “The truth shall set you free.” Who had said that? Where was that from? I picked up my bible again at chapter eight and found my answer. Jesus says in verse 32: “Then you shall know the truth, and the truth shall set you free.” I was on my knees then, thanking God for His very real presence during my pain.
I began “church shopping,” basing my initial impression of each church on its sign out front. Of all the signs I saw that week, Huntertown United Methodist’s sign was the only “spiritual” one, so I attended worship that next Sunday. Reverent Jack Scott led the congregation with the singing of “What a Friend We Have in Jesus.” I broke down. I began to feel “at home.” Then when it was announced that money was being raised for John Enright’s mission in Africa, I knew I was where God wanted me. It had been John’s father, Ken Enright, so many years ago in my home church that had first stirred my heart to begin walking (and stumbling!) with Jesus.
I stayed at HUMC, where I “fed” my spirit and grew in my faith. Two years later, I met a godly man, and soon we were married. What a blessing to be able to share our faith walk. I began to feel God’s goodness in my life again…Yet He was far from finished with me.
He provided another opportunity to show His faithfulness to me when we weren’t able to have children. Though we knew He was working in our lives, I especially struggled with the pain of being childless. As we pursued adoption, we felt God’s hand on the whole process, having been given Mark 9:37 to encourage us: “Whoever receives one of these little children in My name receives Me; and whoever receives Me, receives not Me but Him who sent Me.” A year later, we adopted twin five-year-old boys. They have blessed our lives immeasurably.
My “wanderings” took me to some unsavory places and hooked me up with some wild people, but through it all, God never stopped loving me, never stopped being faithful to me. In the end, I was finally on God’s way, not my own. If you are wandering or if you have a loved one who is wandering, let my story encourage you. Don’t stop seeking God and don’t stop praying. He is faithful and He is in the transformation business.
Tuesday, February 03, 2004
create your own visited states map
or write about it on the open travel guide
I've hit 40% of the states. In 1981, I took the train in a large loop out west, so I'm sure I rode through Idaho between my stop in Montana (Hi Vicki!) and Seattle. Then I'm sure I went through Utah between Las Vegas and Denver on the way back. I'd like to visit New Mexico, Alaska, Hawaii, and North Carolina, but am not sure I will make any special effort to visit South Dakota, Oklahoma, Alabama, Rhode Island and Delaware.
Thursday, January 22, 2004
She's no lady
When did "lady" become a verboten term? I fought against the moniker "girls" when I was young and now it is a almost a term of endearment. Now, it appears that the term "ladies" cannot be used.
About a year ago, a very gracious and gentle friend asked that she not be called a lady. She was raised in a genteel upper crust family and her mother was always admonishing her to "act like a lady" when she was in high spirits. OK. I understand and respect that.
Then the young females (is that OK?) in one of my husband's college classes insisted that they not be called ladies because it was prissy. Is this a trend? Did I miss something here?
When I was very young (before seatbelts), I leaned over the front seat of the car and asked, "Daddy, what's the difference between women and ladies?" He glanced at my mother and replied, "All females are women, but your mother..." pregnant pause, then "Your mother, she's a lady." Mom glowed. I glowed. And you can call me lady whether I'm acting like one or not.
When did "lady" become a verboten term? I fought against the moniker "girls" when I was young and now it is a almost a term of endearment. Now, it appears that the term "ladies" cannot be used.
About a year ago, a very gracious and gentle friend asked that she not be called a lady. She was raised in a genteel upper crust family and her mother was always admonishing her to "act like a lady" when she was in high spirits. OK. I understand and respect that.
Then the young females (is that OK?) in one of my husband's college classes insisted that they not be called ladies because it was prissy. Is this a trend? Did I miss something here?
When I was very young (before seatbelts), I leaned over the front seat of the car and asked, "Daddy, what's the difference between women and ladies?" He glanced at my mother and replied, "All females are women, but your mother..." pregnant pause, then "Your mother, she's a lady." Mom glowed. I glowed. And you can call me lady whether I'm acting like one or not.
Wednesday, January 21, 2004
Sunday, January 11, 2004
Oh Deer
I've lived in deer country for almost 20 years so am savvy about how to avoid hitting them with my car. Sometimes, though, it is unavoidable, and the odds caught up with me Saturday night. A quick trip with Rick to the grocery store resulted in the death of a doe, $2500 damage to the 'burb, and a son who decided that he didn't want to hunt after all.
I've lived in deer country for almost 20 years so am savvy about how to avoid hitting them with my car. Sometimes, though, it is unavoidable, and the odds caught up with me Saturday night. A quick trip with Rick to the grocery store resulted in the death of a doe, $2500 damage to the 'burb, and a son who decided that he didn't want to hunt after all.
Tuesday, January 06, 2004
Christmas
We had an especially nice Christmas, but I still enjoyed taking down the tree and decorations.
We went to Mom's on Christmas Day and stayed until Monday. It was a nice visit, but too short. Before we left home on Christmas morning, we gave the boys the presents they found earlier. They were so surprised to get the rest of their presents at Mom's late that night. Ron told me it was the best Christmas ever!
Mom totally surprised me by giving me the corn picture, which I will cherish like she has. My great-aunt painted the corn which was grown by my great grandfather. This corn won a prize at the 1904 World's Fair at St. Louis. It is a work of art in itself as she was very talented, but the farmers in my family always said, "But look at those full ears of corn!" Mom got the picture when Grandmom died in 1965. I'm still looking for the right place to display it.
While in Arkansas, we went to the Flat Creek Dulcimer Shop in Hardy and bought a hammered dulcimer. It has a beautiful sound despite our fumbling during the learning process. Our more musically-talented friends tell us that we are trying too hard, but I've never been one to play by ear. Steve's using the tablature method to learn and I'm trying to transfer my piano method to the dulcimer. Rick picked up a harmonica but has just played with it so far.
Steve and I gave each other 6 windows for Christmas. When we remodeled we had them insulate the front screened porch so that someday we could make it a four season room. And that day has come! The windows should arrive any day. Steve is searching out freestanding corn burners for the new room, but I'm thinking flooring, furniture and window treatment.
We had an especially nice Christmas, but I still enjoyed taking down the tree and decorations.
We went to Mom's on Christmas Day and stayed until Monday. It was a nice visit, but too short. Before we left home on Christmas morning, we gave the boys the presents they found earlier. They were so surprised to get the rest of their presents at Mom's late that night. Ron told me it was the best Christmas ever!
Mom totally surprised me by giving me the corn picture, which I will cherish like she has. My great-aunt painted the corn which was grown by my great grandfather. This corn won a prize at the 1904 World's Fair at St. Louis. It is a work of art in itself as she was very talented, but the farmers in my family always said, "But look at those full ears of corn!" Mom got the picture when Grandmom died in 1965. I'm still looking for the right place to display it.
While in Arkansas, we went to the Flat Creek Dulcimer Shop in Hardy and bought a hammered dulcimer. It has a beautiful sound despite our fumbling during the learning process. Our more musically-talented friends tell us that we are trying too hard, but I've never been one to play by ear. Steve's using the tablature method to learn and I'm trying to transfer my piano method to the dulcimer. Rick picked up a harmonica but has just played with it so far.
Steve and I gave each other 6 windows for Christmas. When we remodeled we had them insulate the front screened porch so that someday we could make it a four season room. And that day has come! The windows should arrive any day. Steve is searching out freestanding corn burners for the new room, but I'm thinking flooring, furniture and window treatment.
Monday, December 22, 2003
Spring
I received my Wayside Garden catalog with “Over 120 Brand New Items!” Then I browsed over to Althaea Officinalis: MallowDrama blog and found her excellent post about spring foraging. The winter solstice was only yesterday, but I’m itching to get into my garden. My little piece of land has all of the items she mentions, so I have one spring menu planned!
I received my Wayside Garden catalog with “Over 120 Brand New Items!” Then I browsed over to Althaea Officinalis: MallowDrama blog and found her excellent post about spring foraging. The winter solstice was only yesterday, but I’m itching to get into my garden. My little piece of land has all of the items she mentions, so I have one spring menu planned!
Mary
This Christmas season I’ve been drawn to songs about Mary, mother of Jesus: Mary, Did You Know; Sing, Mary, Sing; and the classic, Ave Maria. As a Protestant, I’ve not thought much about Mary as a woman, actually a girl of 13 or 14. I've never wondered at her obedience to some outrageous request. And how do you mother the King of Kings? But, like Mary, I am pondering these things in my heart.
Do you have a Mary song to suggest?
This Christmas season I’ve been drawn to songs about Mary, mother of Jesus: Mary, Did You Know; Sing, Mary, Sing; and the classic, Ave Maria. As a Protestant, I’ve not thought much about Mary as a woman, actually a girl of 13 or 14. I've never wondered at her obedience to some outrageous request. And how do you mother the King of Kings? But, like Mary, I am pondering these things in my heart.
Do you have a Mary song to suggest?
Wednesday, December 17, 2003
Here's my monthly post (that's a lame joke.) And I still don't have much to say. I have been bleak of spirit lately. No real reason, except maybe less hours of sunlight.
High School
That's been the hot topic lately as the boys have to select next year's freshman classes by this Friday. "You don't understand, I'm a teenager and I can do what I want." But parents, school counselors and teachers have prevailed. It's a bittersweet problem. We have exposed them to many things, hoping they would be curious and interested in many things. It's the secret to a rich life. So the problem now is that they want to take electives and not core subjects: Spanish, applied techology (drafting and design), computer applications, theater arts, choir, speech.
Christmas Project
The boys went with their middle school youth group to deliver and decorate a Christmas tree for a mother and child who recently left a women's shelter. Rick came home pumped up. "It reminded me of the song Christmas Shoes." I'm not familiar with the song, but I bet it is a tear-jerker.
High School
That's been the hot topic lately as the boys have to select next year's freshman classes by this Friday. "You don't understand, I'm a teenager and I can do what I want." But parents, school counselors and teachers have prevailed. It's a bittersweet problem. We have exposed them to many things, hoping they would be curious and interested in many things. It's the secret to a rich life. So the problem now is that they want to take electives and not core subjects: Spanish, applied techology (drafting and design), computer applications, theater arts, choir, speech.
Christmas Project
The boys went with their middle school youth group to deliver and decorate a Christmas tree for a mother and child who recently left a women's shelter. Rick came home pumped up. "It reminded me of the song Christmas Shoes." I'm not familiar with the song, but I bet it is a tear-jerker.
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