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 Happened Next…

As I write this, on Sunday afternoon, it is FREEZING here. Literally. Well, right this minute it’s 33 degrees, but it’s supposed to mosey on down to 32 in an hour. I put on my heavy wool coat this morning, on my way to church. I put it back on when I left church at 12:30 or so. I ran errands until after 5:00 (you know, company’s coming!), and

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Comments?!!?! BLAM!!

When I started this blog, I had a lot to learn. A lot. Kevin and Jeremy have pushed and led me through the process and helped me solve the problems that arise. One thing that didn’t come up at the beginning was the “comments” option. I knew that blogs had comments, but I didn’t think through how those things happened until my first posts went out. I got a couple of e-mails that said there was a comment waiting for my approval. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do nor how to do it. I phoned Jeremy to get help.

“I have to approve any comment anyone makes?” I asked, surprised.

“No,” he said. “You get to approve any comment anyone makes.”

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Here. Feel My Forehead. Doesn’t It Feel Hot to You?


When I was growing up, the only thing that would keep us home from school was fever or throwing up. Well, that and chicken pox, but chicken pox wasn’t a recurring malady. Usually, one bout of chicken pox and you were done. Beyond that, no matter how we fussed, complained, and explained how bad we felt, Mother would squeeze some nose drops in our noses and off we’d go to school, whatever the weather. And we had to walk, yes, WALK. From first through third grade, I had to walk twice as far to school as my sister. Actually I think it was four times as far. JoAnne did all her elementary school days in our new house, the house where I live now. It was a good half-block walk to school. Our other house, where I started school, was at least two whole blocks away from that school, and even if it was raining, cold, windy, or broiling hot, I had to walk . No matter how I felt. And sometimes, I felt crummy.

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Look at This!!

Look what’s happening in my yard!

I know that this isn’t going to mean much to those of you who don’t live in Texas or other fall-delayed places, who, for example, may have had snow last week.

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I Want That, and I Want That, and Oh, Wow, I REALLY Want That!

The Container Store. I guess, to those of you who don’t have one near you, or those of you who abhor shopping, those words don’t mean anything. And maybe if I had one, here in Waco, the draw might not be as strong, but almost every time I go to Fort worth, (or Austin or Dallas, or any other place that has one), it’s often (no, not absolutely always, just pretty often) on my list of places to go. It’s a store that sells goods that are designed to help you be/become organized. And it’s fabulous!!

When I walk through a Container Store, I just feel that “I can be organized. I can have control of all parts of my life. I can do this!”  And I’m bad about going there, even when I don’t have something in particular I need to purchase. I’m willing to just walk up and down the aisles and find something that I need very badly to help me organize my house, my garage, my room, my stuff, my life. And there’s always something I want. Not necessarily something I need, but always something I want. And that’s the problem.

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Not *everything* I grow is a nusiance plant

You have to be pretty sturdy, plantwise, to make it at my house. That goes for both indoor and outdoor varieties. I know God made a wonderful world, and He loves it. When I get to Heaven, if I have to account for every living thing (plants, aquarium fish) that have died at my hands, I’m in big trouble.

I’m completely taken in by the beauty of nurseries that I visit. Despite my relatively poor track record with plants, I walk through those lush places and my heart says, “I can do this, too.” My brain struggles to be heard. “NO! No you can’t!”

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I’m the Bearer of, Uh, Some News

I was on a trip, driving for three days, and one of my overnight stops was with some friends. As I turned into their driveway, the whole family erupted out of the house, jostling each other in attempts to be the first to get to me to share that there had been a flood, and part of the highway beyond them was washed out. Maybe I was overly skeptical of their motives, but it seemed to me that the expressions on their faces weren’t those of concern but more of glee. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but YEHAWW do I have some baaaad news for you!”

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As Usual, Having to Be Hauled into Modern Life

At church on Wednesday evenings, kids have a time for choir and a time to learn about missionaries. I teach the Pre-K and Kindergarten kids at their missions time. A while back, our topic one month was missionary medical teams who were working with a people group living in remote areas, somewhere in southeast Asia, I think. With very few roads in dense forests, the people did all their traveling by river. A trip by road to a physician or clinic would take days, so hardly anyone went to a doctor when they were ill. A medical team worked regularly as missionaries, traveling by boat along a river, visiting various communities, seeing those who were sick, dispensing medication, and immunizing people against common illnesses. We had some photographs, and I was explaining to the kids about the boat.

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Maybe My Garden Needs a Gnome

The green stuff growing, intrusively, in my garden

The green stuff growing, intrusively, in my garden

There’s this stuff growing in my garden. It blankets a large portion of the space, and it looks as though I have very carefully strewn seed deliberately across the area. I have not. This is the third year it has come up, and I am dismayed each time. I’m not even sure what it is.

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