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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)

AND–It’s a Wrap!

| Joy, Love, Patience

October seems like quite a while ago. In reality, I might be looking at only twenty-five or so Tuesday lunchtimes when I went to the elementary school near my church, and sat with three second-graders to listen to them read. There were intervening holidays, testing dates, and the time I said I couldn’t come on Tuesday the next week and a clever girl said, “You could come on Friday, instead, like you did that other time.” And I had, indeed, done that, and I ended up doing it again, because she asked.

School is out. Reading Club is over for another school year.

We read a lot of Mo Willem’s Elephant and Piggy books. One kid was a pretty good reader, maybe not compared to others of the same age, but stellar when compared to the other two. One of those improved over the weeks. The other one was still struggling with “and” and “the,” at year’s end.

These are the books that we read together on our last Reading Club day.

I chose this book because the entire vocabulary of the book is “Mine,” and “Yours,” on each page, with an “Ours” added in twice. I was thinking that, with the limited vocabulary of two of my three readers, they should get the hang of it pretty quickly. The story is of a small Panda who comes across the lair of a larger Panda. The smaller Panda asks “Ours?” and the larger Panda picks up the small Panda and deposits him outside, saying: “Yours!” as he walks back inside, indicating that the lair is “Mine.” The small Panda hangs around until the large Panda gives him a kite and says “Yours,” sending him on his way. As the little Panda comes across other woodland creatures, he consistently gets the “Mine” response when he shows interest in other playthings, and a redirection of “Yours,” in regard to the kite. So, we are moving along, page by page, and I am describing the action: others are protective of their belongings. At one point, the kite begins to become enmeshed in leaves and trees and playthings of others. When the other forest folk realize the problem, they join forces and rescue the small Panda, pulling him to safety. The next page shows all those forest folk, along with all their playthings, all together in the lair of the large Panda. The boy reader looks at me and says, “This is a GOOD story!” “Yes, it is a good story,” I say. “Everyone is getting along and sharing and working together.” I hadn’t realized he was beginning to feel anxious.

 

 

This is the other book we read. We are fond of the author Mo Willems, writer of the Elephant and Piggy books. I also had a reason for choosing this book, too. The first couple of pages have illustrations of the fox and the duck. The story’s words are the fox inviting the duck home for dinner. My best reader read two two-page spreads. My next best reader read the pages that included the duck’s responses, which were things such as, “Oh, that’s a good idea,” and “Yes, I’d like that.” Then, my struggling reader read the chick’s input, which was “That’s not a good idea.” Those three sections repeat, with similar responses. The chick continues with the not-such-a-good-idea comments, adding, “really,” and “really, really,” and “really, really, really.”

As we read through the sections, whenever we got to the chick’s page, she eagerly “read” what the page said, with sometimes some help. At one point, she said, with great joy and eagerness, “I am SO reading this book!”

So, we know she’s “reading” what she knows the page says. But, she’s enjoying being part of the ensemble. She’s excited about following the plot line of the story. And, maybe next time someone picks up a book, she’ll get close and want to know what the story says. Wanting to read is the beginning of reading.

 

As Reading Club volunteers, we can give small books as end-of-school gifts. Here’s what I give:

 

White boards. A couple of years ago, I bought a box of two dozen inexpensive white boards that came with small erasers (that blue square thing on the table). I bring dry erase markers in a variety of colors, and they can choose two to keep. You can probably figure out that I’m not allowed to show the kids’ faces. And, you can probably figure out who’s my best reader (the kid who can spell). The board in the center isn’t erasing well, so I got a new one for her, one that doesn’t get all smeary.

So long sweet friends. Maybe I’ll see you in the fall.

 

Children are God’s love-gift; they are heaven’s generous reward.

Psalm 127:3 (The Passion Translation)

 

 

 

Doesn’t seem like there’s anything else to say.

Moving from This-Is-Pretty-I-Think-I-Can-Grow-This to Can-I-Keep-This-Alive-for-the-Next-Three-Months

| Joy, Love, Patience, Peace

I’m working a lot these days, trying to get things done outside, before the really bad, hot, vicious, summer weather drops in. The temps have, and will be, in the eighties, the next few days, inching up and up, until maybe Tuesday, when the forecast is for 90°. I’ve moved some plants, repotted some plants, pruned some plants, dug up lots of weeds, picked up quite a few limbs and twigs, and reworked a little paved pathway that leads to the compost bins. I’ve had to start hand watering the patio plants; alas, all that nice rain we were having constantly, has abated.

I was working, in the late, late afternoon, last week. I had dug up some liriope, to transplant around a tree. The wind had picked up, and I was working as quickly as I could, to get done before the sun went down. Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement, and I thought I saw a bicycle tire, rolling right towards me! I did need a few seconds to realize that it was not at all a bicycle.

 

It was very late afternoon, almost dark, and David wasn’t at home. And, apparently, I was a little on edge. While I work in the yard, and in the house, too, I listen to podcasts on my phone. They entertain and inform me, and make mundane work go faster. I find true-crime casts interesting. Possibly, if I’m anxious about yardwaste bins rolling by me, unexpectedly, I might possibly look for other kinds of podcasts.

 

Meanwhile, every time I go outside, there are branches and twigs in the yard. And I don’t mean just everyday, I mean when I go out in the morning (at which time I pick them up and put them in the yardwaste bin), but also in the early afternoon, and the late afternoon, and the early evening, and between the time that I go in the house to get and drink of water and come back. We’ve had a LOT of serious wind, and I don’t understand why they don’t just ALL drop on down at the same time. They’re all dead!

I’ve looked up into the pecan tree, and there seem to be several leafless limbs and twigs up there. Why don’t they just fall down? Maybe they’re next year’s leaf-drop crop.

 

 

You will keep the mind that is dependent on you in perfect peace, for it is trusting in you.

Isaiah 26:3 (Christian Standard Bible)

 

I’ve gone to the “search” spot on my phone to find more podcasts to enjoy. I’ve found several from Rachel Held Evans which I know I’ll enjoy. And, they’ll be ‘way more enriching than “Crime Junkie,” and “Murder Minute.”

Canny Canines and Crafty Cats

| Goodness

I’m thinking that, for “canny,” definition 2 is what I’m thinking about, when I consider a recent encounter with a dog.

Canny
1. careful; cautious; prudent: a canny reply.
2. astute; shrewd; knowing; sagacious: a canny negotiator.

I was disappointed to see that the primary definition of “crafty” is negative:
“skillful in underhand or evil schemes; cunning; deceitful; sly”

I prefer this obsolete definition, which I think is how I’ve heard the word typically used. And how I’m going to use it here.
Crafty
Obsolete. skillful; ingenious; dexterous
I didn’t grow up with pets. I did have a bird, but it died, I think because I wasn’t always a good caregiver, like forgetting to feed it. I did have some fish when I was a senior in high school, but it was because I had to do a Science Project, and I chose to study changes in goldfish when they had several 24-hour days of consistent light compared to when they had several 24-hour days of consistent dark. I don’t remember the exact results. But the light won over the dark, I’m pretty sure.

When the boys were growing up, we really didn’t have much in the way of discretionary funds, and I told them that we couldn’t have any pets that had to make regular visits to the vet. Jeremy had a rabbit, and Kevin had a gerbil. They were fine pets, but neither were particularly canny or crafty.

I do know, however, that dogs can certainly trained to do amazing things. Maybe cats can, too. They just seem to prefer not to.

This little fellow seems young, and neither canny nor crafty. He’s just standing in the middle of a city street. Cars were driving carefully around him, without his moving or seeming concerned. Obviously, he stayed put for a while, looking around the neighborhood, long enough for me to stop the car, get out my phone, pull up the camera app, and take a photo. A few minutes after I took the picture, he sauntered on across the street, taking his sweet time. I drove around him slowly, just in case he decided, at a moment’s notice, to head back the other direction.

I hope he found his way home.

He was quite a departure from a dog that I saw, on a city street, a few days earlier. I was driving home on a one-way street that runs several miles through a residential neighborhood. There are a few traffic lights but no stop signs, so the cars move along at a pretty steady pace. I was driving in the far left-hand lane when I saw, several feet in front of me, a smallish dog heading across the street. He was on a cross-street, and, as he entered the intersection, he actually turned his head away from the lane in which I was driving; the lane in which there would be traffic, on a two-way street. I could so be making this up, but it seemed like he was checking for oncoming cars. Of course (because he is a dog), I suppose he didn’t realize that, on a one-way street, there wouldn’t be any oncoming traffic. He should have turned his head toward me.

The speed limit on the street is 30, so I wasn’t going too fast to be able to slow down. And, he scampered across the intersection pretty quickly. Again, I could be trying to put my human driving knowledge on a little dog. It just seemed eerie. He did just exactly what I would have done before crossing the street–turning my head to check for oncoming traffic.

Jeremy and Sarah have a cat. When I was a kid, I had a friend who had a couple of cats. I enjoyed playing with them at their house. They never struck me as being particularly “skillful, ingenious, and/or dexterous.” Maybe they were, and I just didn’t notice. Things were different for Jeremy and Sarah’s first cat.

Once, I was visiting them, and I was staying in their apartment one morning while they were both at work. I’d been reading and doing some research on the computer, looking for something interesting for me and Jeremy to do in Central Park, later that afternoon. I was sitting at the computer when Jeremy came back.

“How’d things go,” he asked.
“Just fine,” I said.
“Did the cat want anything to eat?” he said.
“How would she have let me know that?” I asked.
“She’d have put her paw on your knee.”
“Well, no, then. She didn’t do that.”
Jeremy went into the bathroom and closed the door.
The cat walked over to me and put her paw on my knee.
And I was dumbstruck.

This is the cat Jeremy and Sarah have now. I believe that he’s just as clever as their previous cat. And, he likes boxes just as much as the other one did. I send a box of gifts, and/or treats, to Jeremy and Sarah, periodically. The cat always finds and takes over the box. Jeremy says that I could just send empty boxes, every now and then, and the cat would be quite happy.

If you want to learn, then go and ask the wild animals and the birds, the flowers and the fish. Any of them can tell you what the Lord has done. Every living creature is in the hands of God.

Job 12:7-10 (Contemporary English Version)

 

He’s Got the Whole World in His Hands (kids’ version)

He’s God the Whole World in His Hands (Mormon Tabernacle Choir version)

I Apologize

| Faithfulness, Joy, Patience

A couple of weeks ago, I was working in the backyard, when I began to hear “Hello? Hello? Hello?” The words seemed to be coming from the back pocket of my overalls. I took off one of my gardening gloves and reached back to pull out my phone. April was Face-Timing me.

“Hi!” I said.

“Hi,” she said back. “I really can’t talk right now,” she continued.

I was confused, and must have looked like it. Turns out, I had Face-Timed her. Inadvertently. By sitting down on my gardening cart and then getting up. I guess. I apologized and we hung up.

A few minutes later, I felt a buzz from my back pocket. When I looked at the phone, there was a message, from a phone number instead of a name, and the message said, “I can’t talk right now.” I had, apparently, pocket-dialed someone else. I don’t actually know who it was, because I never went back through my contacts to find the number. It can’t have been someone I know well, because they would have, or might have, called back.

Anyway, I’m just bringing it up in case you’ve received some random call or request from me. If so, I’m sorry. I’m trying to be more responsible, by making sure that, when the phone goes into my pocket, the screen isn’t on the contact list.

Here’s today’s weather information from Thursday’s paper. We’ve had an unusual spring. Rain, rain, rain, and then some more rain. There are parts of the yard where I squish and squish when I walk over the grass. Last Sunday morning, I checked the back yard and, for the first time in several days, there was no standing water. On Monday, it rained some more. And Tuesday. And Wednesday. I’ve been going outside, between rain showers, every day. Thursday, the rain came in really early, and then the sun shone for hours! But still, my shoes were heavy from all the mud that accumulated as I walked around the yard. And, by mid-afternoon, the clouds had come rolling back in.

The rain is supposed to begin again in the wee hours Friday morning, and continue until noon or so. But the high temperature is only supposed to be 62.

And, I’m really not complaining. Every drop of water that falls from the sky is a drop of water that I’m not having to pay for when I need to use the sprinkler system. Every pleasant day is a day we’re not having to run the air conditioner.

 

 

Speaking of the neighbors, they were all busy Thursday, the first really sunny, warm day in ages. The yard right behind me got mowed. The guy next door to me mowed their yard, too. And, there’s a little piece of yard that’s next to the one behind me, that backs up to a back corner of my yard. That guy did a lot of weed-eating. I guess they’re feeling like they should get lots of yard work done because the rain is supposed to be rolling back in. Imminently.

 

A few days ago, I was happy to see the little dark lizard was still on the premises.

 

But instead be kind and affectionate toward one another. Has God graciously forgiven you? Then graciously forgive one another in the depths of Christ’s love.

Ephesians 4:32 (The Passion Translation)

 

Okay, pocket-dialing somebody isn’t exactly a huge mistake, but, I don’t want to bother folks, especially by mistake. Meanwhile, our being kind and affectionate toward each other (and graciously forgiving), seems like the way to go.

What’s In *Your* Medicine Cabinet?

| Patience, Peace

Things are pretty muddy, out there in the yard.

I’ve been working in the yard quite a bit, trying to get things in shape before the blazing summer temperatures make it be uncomfortable to spend too much time outdoors. And I’ve had to work around the rain, which has been unusually heavy and constant.

I got a big, red, itchy bite in the crook of my elbow a week or so ago. It didn’t look like what a mosquito bite usually looks like on me. Some other sort of biting bug, I suppose. Then, a few days later, I got another, bigger, itchier bite behind my knee. Really bigger and insanely more itchy. Then I went to Target and bought a new can of insect repellent.

Prescriptions and over the counter medicines fill my medicine cabinet.

And, I looked for something in my arsenal of medications that would allay the itch.

I had some prescription creams (two of each) for previous bites of unknown insects. But they were antibiotic things and not itch-related. Nor itch-helpful.

I checked through the medicine cabinet, looking for drug store-type help.

Those three white lids, all in a row? All Cortizone-10, which worked. As an afterthought, I checked the expiration dates on them. June 2014, June, 2018, and April 2019.

I thought maybe I should look at everything else in there.

That small bottle of Tylenol, lying sideways on that little metal shelf? August, 2017.

The box of Mucinex? October, 2019. A few months left for me to catch a cold, or something similar.

The two boxes of Imodium? March and May 2019. And I’d just as soon NOT need it.

Ayr saline nasal mist? April, 2018.

Kleenex hand sanitizer? June 2014.

Artificial tears? December, 2019. There’ll be help if my eyes are dry between now and New Year’s Eve.

BUMP Family Friendly Nasal spray? The container says, “BB 8/17.”  I’m guessing that means “best by.” So, early 2019? Not so much.

The large Tylenol bottle? May, 2022!

Over-the-counter Iron pills? August 2020.

Nasal spray? March 2020.

Pepto Bismol tablets? I just don’t know. The only information actually on the box is “SE 20(L) 82774354K2” and “SE 20(L) 83024354KO.” I have no idea what that might mean.

And the most astonishing? ALCOHOL! Alcohol goes bad? Or, I guess, expires? REALLY. My alcohol’s expiration date? November 2013. Yes, my alcohol expired five-and-a-half years ago. And it was a great big bottle, too.

The website Needy Meds/be medwise gives information about disposing of outdated medications. I don’t have kitty litter or coffee grounds, but I do have dirt. And plastic zip-top bags. I want to be a good decision-maker and citizen.

 

Give your entire attention to what God is doing right now, and don’t get worked up about what may or may not happen tomorrow. God will help you deal with whatever hard things come up when the time comes.

Matthew 6:34 (The Message Translation)

 

Last week, while I was outside doing some yard work, I saw this at the front corner of the house. I was several feet away, and thought at first that it was some trash that had been blown around and gotten stuck on the brick. When I got closer, for a minute or so, I couldn’t figure out what it was. I stayed still and stared. It stayed still, too. It’s a lizard shedding it’s skin.

We have at least two anoles living here. I often see (one at a time, usually) one around the potting bench. Several weeks ago, Peter and I were outside, near this spot, when we saw two of them, peeking out of a vent at the bottom of the house. They were quiet and still. This lizard would have darted away from me, at any other time. But, while molting, they stay put until they’ve got their new skin.

He looks like he’s wrapped in tissue paper, with the gift of a new skin. The old skin, I suppose, has reached its expiration date.

 

April Showers Bring . . . Well, Some More Showers

| Faithfulness, Joy, Patience

We haven’t had standing water in the back yard in years. It takes a few days for the greatly sodden dirt to soak up the excess water. Then it rains, REALLY RAINS, again.

It’s been raining. Quite a bit. According to the weather information in the newspaper, our total rainfall this month has been 6.73 inches. And we’re not done with the month, yet. The weather forecast for the rest of the month says there might be a thunderstorm on Tuesday. The normal rainfall for April is 2.04 inches. The excess seems like a good idea, given what June, July, and August are sometimes like.

 

These days, when it rains, it does pour. I hope the rainfall abates enough to keep the mosquito population from becoming a problem. Meanwhile, the grass is looking great!

On Palm Sunday weekend, there was a big rainfall, lots of wind, and dropping temperatures on Saturday evening. Our Worship in the Park plan seemed to be in jeopardy (when we have our worship service in a park across the street, along with the church that is catty-cornered from us, on the other side of the park). The sun really did come out and the temperature rose, somewhat. Songs were sung, prayers were prayed, choirs sang, pastors preached, children handed out palm branches, which were waved in the air as we celebrated. Peter had come, and David returned him to Fort Worth that afternoon.

 

The afternoon was warm, and I spent a hour or so picking up the small branches that had fallen from the pecan tree. Pecan tree limbs are, apparently, rather easily broken. But they often just break off and stay perched up on the uppermost branches, for what sometimes seem like years. Many of these got blown down. I spent an hour or so Sunday afternoon, picking them up and breaking them up. The large green bin was about half full. I put in enough of the pecan tree’s broken branches to almost fill the green bin to the top.

 

 

 

 The Lord will bring about justice and praise in every nation on earth, like flowers blooming in a garden.

Isaiah 61:11 (Contemporary English Version)

 

 

‘Tis the Season

| Love, Peace

The  Little Free Library  organization began in 2009. The idea is that someone will create a small house-shaped box, that’s water-proof and has a door. Then it goes up on a pole and sits at the curb. The owner will probably be the first person to put some books in the library. Then, anyone who’d like to read a book can take it from the little house, and take it home to read. When they finish, they can return the book to the house, or not. But they might return the book and also add one or more books that they have enjoyed. Little children might take two or three books. When Peter was younger, we would go to a playground at a community center near his house. There was a little library there. Sometimes, we’d get books just to read while we were at the playground. Other times, we’d choose a book to take to his house to read. There’s also a little library house at Peter’s school, and we have taken books from there for Peter to read as we drive to Waco.

I’ve noticed one in a friend’s neighborhood, too. The first time I saw it, it was empty, and I wondered if there were enough people walking by in this area who were taking and bringing books.  I didn’t always make a point to look in, as I drove by, but it seemed to usually be empty. One day, I drove by the little house-on-a-pole, and saw that, while there were not books inside, there were two cans. Cans of baked beans, I think.

Maybe it’s a food bank, I thought.  I looked it up later, and, yes, indeed, the Little Free Library people also support the Little Free Pantry ministry. This project started in May of 2016. I don’t know the details, but it seems that people noticed that families around them might have days where they didn’t get enough to eat, and there could be a solution.

This neighborhood that I drive through isn’t a run down, seedy part of town. Most houses are well-kept and no one I’ve seen appears to be “poor” and “starving.” However, lots of families, everywhere, sometimes struggle to make ends meet. Sometimes families have to choose whether to buy groceries or whether to purchase gas to get to work.

Peter was here last week, and we drove by the little purple house, which was empty. I pointed it out to him and he said, yes, he’d seen little libraries. “This is a little food pantry,” I said. “Sometimes there’s food in here. Sometimes it’s empty. I was thinking …” And he thought so, too. We went to the grocery store and bought food.

This is how the little purple house looked, a few days after we added our groceries to those that were already inside. I’m sorry I neglected to take a picture when it was all full.

Peter chose some things that were kid-friendly, like those containers with macaroni shapes and powdered cheese sauce, that you just add hot water to, and then microwave and stir. We turned down the rice aisle and Peter said, “Yes! White rice and Jasmine rice!” And we got crackers.

Later, we had a young teen-aged friend with us when we drove through the neighborhood. “We’ve gotten some food for the little pantry house. Do you want to help us?” She did.

When we drove up to the house, I said, “Look! Other people have brought food, too.” There were dried beans and some canned goods already inside. We got out of the car with our groceries. To my surprise, everything fit inside the house. Whew! (It holds more that you think it might. Or, at least more that I thought it might.)

 

Just a few days later, when I drove by, the house was empty. Of course, I don’t know if one person took it all, or if three or four folks stopped by the little food bank for something for themselves or their family.

I’m trying to remember to add, to my own grocery list, foods to take to the little purple house. ‘Tis the season.

 

“When the Son of Man appears in his majestic glory, with all his angels by his side, he will take his seat on his throne of splendor, and all the nations will be gathered together before him.And like a shepherd who separates the sheep from the goats, he will separate all the people.  The ‘sheep’ he will put on his right side and the ‘goats’ on his left. Then the King will turn to those on his right and say, ‘You have a special place in my Father’s heart. Come and experience the full inheritance of the kingdom realm that has been destined for you from before the foundation of the world!  For when you saw me hungry, you fed me. When you found me thirsty, you gave me something to drink. When I had no place to stay, you invited me in,  and when I was poorly clothed, you covered me. When I was sick, you tenderly cared for me, and when I was in prison you visited me.’

“Then the godly will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty and give you food and something to drink? When did we see you with no place to stay and invite you in? When did we see you poorly clothed and cover you? When did we see you sick and tenderly care for you, or in prison and visit you?’

 “And the King will answer them, ‘Don’t you know? When you cared for one of the least important of these my little ones, my true brothers and sisters, you demonstrated love for me.’

Matthew 31-40 (The Passion Translation)

The Cambridge dictionary defines “endgame” as:  the last stage  of a process, especially one involving discussion. This is Jesus’ endgame. The next verses in Matthew describe what is going to happen over the next few days. It’s hard to believe that there will be a happy ending.

We know better. There is a happy ending. But we need to make sure we’re keeping that happy ending going, as much as we can, for the people around us, who might not know where to find that better endgame.

‘Tis the season … to be the people Jesus meant us to be.

 

Lessons that My Mother Taught . . .

| Faithfulness, Love, Patience

 

but, sadly, that I had no desire to learn.

Like cooking. I did do some cooking, mostly baking, cookies and cakes. The first main dish I ever made was macaroni and cheese, and I could not believe that you had to cook the macaroni FIRST, and then make the cheese sauce and cook the whole thing AGAIN!! Wasn’t there a better way?

I think Mother got a little bit panicky, after I got engaged, thinking that I didn’t know how to cook. At all. So she began to find recipes (and gather ingredients) for me to cook for David when he came to town. And, seriously, I could read and I could think, and I had this great cookbook with recipes for 2 (with main dish, vegetable, salad, bread, and dessert suggestions). I prepared many, many of those, and doubled lots of the recipes to include all the members of our family of four, over the years.

I can hardly bear to look at this.

She tried the housework tasks. I remember vacuuming, occasionally. We had an Electrolux vacuum cleaner. It was a canister-type vacuum. There was a large, roundish thing on wheels, and a hose with a metal tube on the end. The vacuumer could attach a variety of nozzles on the tube. There was one for floors, and one for upholstered furniture and one for getting into crevices, and I very strongly disliked each and every one of them. I was constantly getting clobbered from behind by the canister. I desperately wanted one of the upright vacuums that I saw on television.

I’m sure Mother asked me to dust, too. I don’t recall, but I imagine I gave her grief, or at least some eye-rolls.

I remember, once, cleaning the bathtub. Maybe I did that more than once. Maybe. But I don’t think it was more than that.

She developed a strategy that she thought would work. She would pay us. A quarter, which doesn’t seem like very much, but I think it was significant back then. Not lots and lots of money, but enough for a couple of soft drinks or candy bars. I wasn’t interested. But you know who was? My little sister, JoAnne.

JoAnne might not have been money-hungry,  but even then, she knew how to make hard work more fun. She explained to me, much, much later, one of her takes on vacuuming.

You’ve seen the pages from early readers with Dick and Jane. I don’t really recall who were the stars when I started First Grade, but JoAnne remembers, quite well, who were the main characters of her readers. Tom and Betty. And their little sister Susan and their dog Flip. When Mother would ask JoAnne if she would like to be paid a quarter to do some vacuuming, JoAnne would gladly agree. She would go to the closet where the Electrolux, and all its parts, were stored. And as she got them out and assembled, she would say things like, “Good morning, Tom. Glad to see you, Betty. Oh, Susan, be careful!” And so on. And the vacuum cleaner parts would be her friends, as she went from room to room, cleaning up. (Tom was the canister, Betty was the metal tube, and Susan was the flexible tube.)

Who knows what shenanigans went on when they were all scrubbing the tub!

This brings me to the baseboards. A while back, a few years ago, I guess, JoAnne and her family were visiting. As I walked by the bathroom, she came out, holding a cleaning rag. She said, “Oh. I hope you don’t mind. I cleaned the baseboards.”

“Of course I don’t mind. Were they really dirty?” “Well, a little.”

I’m blaming it on being older and not too spry, and, apparently, not seeing much. Way down there. Behind the door.

 

Show yourself in all respects to be a model of good works, and in your teaching show integrity, dignity . . .

Titus 2:7 (English Standard Version)

We all have our areas of strength, and we all have our areas of not-so-strong. For me, I could not have come from a better family. I’m hoping that at least some of it shows.

 

 

I Prefer to Rely on My Mind’s Eye

| Joy, Peace

Interesting, isn’t it, how our eyes can see something, but out minds can translate the picture we thought we saw into something a little different from what we actually saw.

Last Saturday morning, I left the house pretty early, off to run errands before the rest of the folks got up and about. There was a really lovely sunrise.

I saw the beautiful sunrise. Only the beautiful sunrise. My brain, quite thoroughly, edited out the billboards, the traffic lights, all the traffic, the dashboard, and my inspection sticker. I was really surprised, and quite frustrated, by all the visual clutter in the photo. I wanted the sunrise.

I run into this problem when I’m in the Blue Ridge Mountains.

 

I am overwhelmed by the beauty of the mountains, and am always trying to capture that beauty. I often completely overlook the phone lines.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I guess I’ll have two choices, if I want to get out early enough next Saturday to see a pretty sunrise. Early enough to drive outside of town and see if I can find a billboard-free piece of scenic attractiveness that includes a sunrise and a cloud or two. Or, I can just drive around town and let my brain’s selective visuals do that work for me.

 

From sunrise brilliance to sunset beauty, lift up his praise from dawn to dusk!

Psalm 113:3 (The Passion Translation)

 

 

Brilliance. Beauty. Brilliance. Beauty.

His praise, from dawn to dusk!

(You can sing this to the tune “Sunrise, Sunset,” from Fiddler on the Roof. Try it, while you’re ignoring the signs and billboards. Well, you’ll need to obey the traffic signals, of course.)

Thanks, but I *Like* What I Do in Sunday School

| Joy

Maybe I’d learn more, or understand more, or be challenged more, or be inspired more, if I went to Sunday School with grown-ups. But we have our own brand of learning, understanding, challenges, and inspiration, down in preschool Sunday School. I’ve been doing Sunday School the preschool way for m-a-n-y years, and there’s never a dull moment.

And in other important news, Kindergartner Peter has turned six.

 

Some people brought their small children to Jesus so he could touch them. But his followers told the people to stop bringing their children to him. When Jesus saw this, he was displeased. He said to them, “Let the little children come to me. Don’t stop them. The kingdom of God belongs to people who are like these little children. I tell you the truth. You must accept the kingdom of God as a little child accepts things, or you will never enter it.” Then Jesus took the children in his arms. He put his hands on them and blessed them.

Mark 10:13-16 (International Children’s Bible)

Seemed like an appropriate translation/version to use . . .