The Bible Tells Me

I’m not the Bible scholar I should be. I know some verses; not as many as I ought. Still, I find most of my experiences can be framed or underscored, explained or illuminated, by Scripture. Or maybe a hymn or a worship song, a devotional or a testimony. Frequently, I have those “Oh, yeah” moments when I see God clearly in an event. Or realized that I should have seen Him.

These are the moments of “The Bible tells me.”

These essays reflect that. Do know that I can proof-text as well as anyone. I have a concordance, and I know how to use it. Well, truthfully, I do all of that online now, where I can quickly find a passage, see it in many versions, and choose the one I like best. I try not to be narrow, but instead broad, as I apply Bible words to my experiences. I know that your interpretations and understanding may be different than mine. But I also know that our God is big enough for all of us.

I have a friend who, in her prayer time, likes to tell jokes to God. “I know He knows the punch line,” she says. “But I tell them anyway. He likes it when I laugh.”

He likes it when I laugh. I’m going to hang on to that. It’s Biblical. The Bible tells me.

Our mouths were filled with laughter then,
and our tongues with shouts of joy.
Then they said among the nations,
“The Lord has done great things for them.”
The Lord had done great things for us;
we were joyful.

Psalm 126: 2,3 (HCSB)

What’s the Story, Morning Glory? What’s the Word, Humming Bird?*

I’ve taken a few odd lot pictures over the last few months. Looking back at them, I see a novel. And do know, before you begin reading, I didn’t set up any of these photos, I just snapped them as I ran across them.

This snazzy convertible was parked in front of a local sandwich shop. In my head, I began to imagine a story about some guy having asked out this girl he just met, taking her out for a casual late dinner, with the top down, because it’s cool. And it’s not just cool, it’s FRIGID! I took the photo of the car and immediately the photo of my own dashboard, showing the outside temperature as 38°! (Chapter 1-how’s she going to feel about him? Will he visit her in the hospital as she recovers from frostbite?

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A Tough Act to Follow

I have a friend who says that I grew up in a fairy tale. And she’s right. Well, if not a fairy tale, at least a 50’s television program. We had loving parents. We walked back and forth to school each day (and, seriously, we could, and did come home for lunch). We went to church each Sunday. We had birthday parties in our backyard. And, really, I’m a little surprised when I find out that not all families were as happy as ours, and that some families had difficulties and that their pleasant faces hid troubles.

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Springtime-gotta love it!

I’m on the mailing list for a nursery in Fort Worth. I get e-mails several times a week, especially at this time of year, telling me about special offers. Wednesday morning, I opened their new message and it said, “Thursday Only—-Ladybugs, regularly $9.99, now $6.98!” Oh, yes!

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Throwback Thursday

I’ve mentioned before that I volunteer at an elementary school near my church. I’m a “Reading Club” sponsor, which means I go every week at lunchtime and read with three girls. Lunch is only 30 minutes, and we chat a little bit too, so it’s slow going through Dear Mr. Henshaw, which was the Newberry award winning book in 1984. Also, I’m having to stop and do some explaining every now and then.

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Ho-san-nah, Yes! Ho-o-sa-a-a-a-nah!

As little girls, JoAnne and I found, in our Easter baskets, metal, crank-style music box figures. Hers was Peter Cottontail, and it played “Here Comes Peter Cottontail” when cranked. Mine was a purple egg, decorated with birds and flowers. When cranked, it played “London Bridge Is Falling Down.” Really. It did. I don’t know why. I don’t imagine the song has a history of being associated with Easter. I don’t know that it’s associated with eggs or flowers or birds. But that’s what it played. I’ll come back to that.

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It. Was. Not. My. Fault.


I’ve been doing this blog thing for eight months now, and I still make mistakes. I still have to call Kevin and/or Jeremy for help when things go amiss. But last week’s debacle was. not. my. fault. Truly. It wasn’t.

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I Don’t Know That I Feel All That Mad

indexI’ve mentioned before that I’m more of a fan of football than baseball or basketball. I grew up not even knowing what March Madness was. (I looked that up in Wikipedia to see when the term originated and discovered only that it came into use in the 20th century, not really the precise information that I was hoping for.)

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