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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)

More of the Same, Sort Of

| Joy, Patience

My sister said that, when her older grandson started walking, he would often stand by the door and say, with great passion, “‘Side, ‘Side, ‘Side.” He desperately wanted to go outside.

I’m feeling a little like that, these days. I’ll get up. I might do a jigsaw puzzle on the computer (the temperature might still be rather chilly). I’ll make my egg & cheese burrito; and then I’ll put on my overalls and go outside.

Wednesdays are my day to go to the elementary school where some of our church members and I read with kids during their lunch times. Last Wednesday, when I left the school, after reading, I went straight to a nearby nursery and bought three big bags of dirt. Well, they’re not that big. There were bags that were quite large; I know that I cannot pick up a bag of dirt that heavy. And, truly, the bags that I did buy were too heavy for me to pick up and tote around to the side of the house. (Fortunately, there are strong guys at the nursery who can easily pick up those bags of dirt).

But, I do have a wheelbarrow. I pushed the wheelbarrow from the little storage shed in the backyard around to the garage. I had the car’s remote control, and I used it to raise the garage door. Then, I opened the trunk and strained to pull one of the dirt-filled bags to the edge of the open trunk. Then, I pulled and tugged until I could get one bag into the wheelbarrow. Then, I closed the trunk, used the remote control to close the garage door, and, struggling, got the bag around the corner of the house.

I tipped the wheelbarrow over so that the bag of dirt fell close to the edge of the concrete edging stone. I used a pointed garden tool to stab a nice, big hole in the bag, and then I used a scooping garden tool to move lots of nice, black dirt to fill in the space between the back side of a few of the edging stones and the flower bed. Then, after I’d poured out all the dirt from one bag, I had to go back to the garage door and start all over. (The wheelbarrow is rather unwieldy, and I can only manage one bag at a time.)

At last, all three bags were empty and all the spaces were filled with nice garden dirt and none of the edging stones were wobbly.

 

I do try to be efficient. Sometimes that translates to “lazy.” Here’s my plan for some of the watering:

 

I planted some new hostas. And, now, the space where I’ve been putting hosta plants for a while, is pretty much full. I could put some more in, I guess. However, all the hosta plants that I put in last year have now come back, a couple of them really spectacularly. I’ve added some more, but now, that’s it. For good, I think. They die back in the winter, but every one that I’ve previously planted has popped back up again. I did, however, after I said that I was done with the hosta shopping, I found a “Captain Kirk” hosta. (It’s the one at the bottom of the photo.) But that’s  it!

 

 

 

 

So the earth produced all kinds of plants, and God was pleased with what he saw. 

Genesis 1:12 (Good News Translation)

 

 

 

Nine. One. What?

| Patience, Peace

I’ve been spending lots of time outside, working in the yard, planting plants, organizing the potting bench, re-working beds, that sort of thing.

A couple of days ago, I was planting some new Lantana plants. They are hot-weather hardy, and very sturdy. The ones I bought recently are named “Hot-Blooded Red.”

The weather was nice, and I’d gotten lots of planting done. I have a wheeled, garden cart that I can sit on, so I don’t have to try to get up from the ground when I’m moving from place to place to put plants in beds or dig up  weeds. I was putting those Lantana plants at the right-hand corner of the front of the house. There were three plants, and I was digging up the dirt and getting the small area ready.

I was diligent, working that dirt, pulling up any weeds that had taken root there, and arranging the three plants in the space.

But, I kept hearing, or I thought I was hearing, someone saying my name. It was eerie. It was bizarre. It was quite strange.

“Gayle.” “Gayle.” “Gayle, can you hear me?” “Are you all right, Gayle?”

So, the sound really wasn’t my imagination. But, what? Where? Why?

I finally realized that the sound was coming from the pocket at the front of my overalls. Hmmmm.

I pulled my phone from my pocket and saw, at the top of the screen, the numbers 911.

“Hello,” I said, a little startled. And someone responded, “Gayle, are you all right?”

“I am all right,” I responded, warily.

“We’re just checking on you, and making sure you’re okay.”

Apparently, I had pocket-dialed my phone. And I called 911.

“I AM SO SORRY!” I said, when I realized what I’d done.

“I’m working outside in my yard, and I am fine, and I guess the fabric in the pocket of my overalls dialed the numbers. I’m very, very sorry.”

The young man (and he sounded pretty young), was gracious and not at all angry (it seemed). And, frankly, I think he’ll have a really good story to tell to his co-workers, his family members, and his neighbors.

“Let me tell you about the time this lady (let’s hope he doesn’t say old lady) dialed 911 when her phone was in her pocket, while she was planting flowers.”

I guess I could use a piece of tape to attach an index card (trimmed to fit) to the front of the phone. I’d still be able to listen to podcasts and audio books while I worked. And, I’d be able to hear the phone ring, and could answer it.

I’m certainly embarrassed. I hate the idea that I took up time that a First Responder could certainly have used for some task that was much more important than chatting with me.

 

 

A teacher of the Law came up and tried to trap Jesus. “Teacher,” he asked, “what must I do to receive eternal life?”

Jesus answered him, “What do the Scriptures say? How do you interpret them?”

The man answered, “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your strength, and with all your mind’; and ‘Love your neighbor as you love yourself.’”

“You are right,” Jesus replied; “do this and you will live.”

But the teacher of the Law wanted to justify himself, so he asked Jesus, “Who is my neighbor?”

Jesus answered, “There was once a man who was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho when robbers attacked him, stripped him, and beat him up, leaving him half dead.  It so happened that a priest was going down that road; but when he saw the man, he walked on by on the other side.  In the same way a Levite also came there, went over and looked at the man, and then walked on by on the other side.  But a Samaritan who was traveling that way came upon the man, and when he saw him, his heart was filled with pity.  He went over to him, poured oil and wine on his wounds and bandaged them; then he put the man on his own animal and took him to an inn, where he took care of him.  The next day he took out two silver coins and gave them to the innkeeper. ‘Take care of him,’ he told the innkeeper, ‘and when I come back this way, I will pay you whatever else you spend on him.’”

And Jesus concluded, “In your opinion, which one of these three acted like a neighbor toward the man attacked by the robbers?”

The teacher of the Law answered, “The one who was kind to him.”

Jesus replied, “You go, then, and do the same.”

Luke 10:25-37 (Good News Translation)

 

I don’t know where a 911 call goes when it comes in. I’m wondering if my pocket-dialed 911 would go to the Fire Station that’s closest to me. I should find out. I should take them some cookies.

I Think I’m Almost Done. Maybe.

| Joy

It’s Thursday evening, and I’m pretty weary. I’ve still been working in the yard. The mornings are mostly chilly, and, while I’m eager to get back outside, I’ve had to wait a while for things to warm up.

As Kevin and April were working on making that log barrier, one of them suggested that I put some kind of water resistant (or something of the sort), protective, coating on the tops of those logs. So I purchased three cans of matte, clear coating, and sprayed the tops of those logs. The temperature was still a little bit chilly, so I went inside for a while, and did some baking.

Yeah, really, I baked. Eventually. I hadn’t used the bread machine in quite a while. I pulled out the bread machine cookbook, and made some rolls.

As I was gathering the ingredients for the rolls, I was sure that I had a jar of yeast in the refrigerator. I knew it was there, because I periodically have to move it to make a space for something else.

I was confident. But just barely. I don’t recall the last time I used it, but there was still a lot of yeast in the jar. And, I just barely made the deadline.

I guess I should bake more. And quickly. I do have a 5 pound bag of bread flour.

 

The bread machine stirs the ingredients and “kneads” the dough and keeps it nice and warm while it rises. Then, it dings when the dough is ready. I pulled it out and cut up the dough to make rolls. Then, they had to rise in a pan until they were nice and puffy. Then I baked them, and by that time the outside temperature had risen to the point that I could work.

We’d had some windy days. There were quite a few sticks strewn about the yard.

And, finally, the sun was shining on the front of the house.

I’d had yellow pansies in the front flower bed and yellow violas (miniature pansies) in hanging pots on the porch railing. Those are chilly weather flowers who don’t make it through a Texas summer. I pulled them all up and replaced them with yellow, summer-friendly varieties.

 

The flowers are springing up and the time of the singing of birds has come. Yes, spring is here.

Song of Solomon 2:12 (The Living Bible Translation)

 

And of course, I’m not done. Plants need to be tended. The yard will need to be mowed; and not just once. Things need to be pruned, trimmed, and watered!

And there’s that saying: “A garden is a thing of beauty and a job, forever.” Yep.

Where Are My Gardening Gloves!?!

| Patience, Peace

It’s spring all over the place! The weather’s pretty nice. Mostly. The grass is greening up. The trees are leafing out!!

And I want to plant things.

So, I went to a nursery. And another one. And another one. And, I’d already been to a couple of them, a week or so ago.

I did some yard work one day. Then, I did some yard work all day, one day. So, then I could hardly move. Just as well; the weather turned a little chilly.

But, Thursday, the day was great! I went to all the nurseries, including the one that’s ‘way out of town.

The basics of the yard were put in place by my dad, so many years ago. There are two large trees in the front yard and two in the back. There’s a hedge in a planter across half of the house. There are ferns on the north, shaded side of the house. I’ve added some things to the bed on the south side of the house. Most of what I purchase are in planters on the patio.

 

 

And another one bites the dust. When I came home today (from all the nursery shopping), I found these guys cutting down another great big tree, a couple of houses down from us. It was a casualty of the mega-freeze, February before last. The pale circle that you can see in front of the workers is the small wood chips that the other tree guys made when they chipped down the stump from that tree. The tree shadow you see is from the tree in our side yard. I think those were the only trees lost from our block.

 

 

 

 Ask rain from the Lord in the season of the spring rain, from the Lord who makes the storm clouds, who gives showers of rain to you, the vegetation in the field to everyone.

Zachariah 10:1 (New Revised Standard Version)

 

Last week, hardly any trees were leafing out. Now, this week, almost all of them are.

Things Go Uppity-Up-Up and Downdiddly-Down-Down

| Joy

I’ve been sick, but that occurs later on in the narrative.

Peter’s Spring Break was the week after Waco’s break. His school was presenting a musical based on the Biblical story of Esther. I drove up to Fort Worth for the Thursday night production. Then, Friday was “Grandparent’s Day.” While Grandparents were arriving at the school that morning, I got a name tag and met the mom of one of Peter’s friends. While waiting around as other grandparents came, I met Peter’s Spanish teacher, who said he was a great student. Then, the grandparents went to their grandchildren’s classes. In Peter’s Third Grade class, we played “Grandparent Bingo.” Grandparents and their grandkids worked together, placing Smarties candies on bingo squares with captions like “Did you and your grandparent go to a movie?” “Did you and your grandparent bake cookies.” And statements like that. There was a book fair where, wouldn’t you know, grandparents could purchase books for their grandkids. If there’s going to be a fundraiser, then adding to a kid’s home library is a valid one.

Then, we all went to the church’s sanctuary, where the students who are part of a string ensemble played for us. Then, the grades who were part of the Thursday-night musical went up and sang one of their songs. Then we sang a hymn, and, then I’m not sure what happened after that, because Peter and I were sitting at the very end of a pew next to an exit door, and we hurried out early, because April was waiting at the door for us, to drive us back to their house where we hurried to put our luggage in the car and left town. There was a freeze warning and we needed to get on the road to get to Waco before the bad weather arrived. And, actually, the bad weather didn’t arrive.

 

 

Peter was checking out the package of semi-sweet chocolate chips and discovered a recipe for a pan of solid chocolate chip cookie dough. That seemed like a fabulous idea, and it was even more intriguing to decorate that solid slab of chocolate chip cookie.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Peter also had an idea for what we should have for dinner when David came home. “Peter’s Rice Surprise” involves rice and lettuce and cheese. And Pita Chips.

 

 

 

 

 

As I’ve been cleaning out shelves in closets, I found a box of items for making candles. I’d sort of forgotten that I used to do that. There was wax and dark green wax squares for coloring a candle and Stearine, a substance that helps the wax set better and helps candles last longer. Peter and I went to Hobby Lobby for new wicks and candle scent. I had a couple of clear glass containers that had held candles that I’d burned. I had cleaned them out to use for the candles we were creating. And Peter said that green was April’s favorite color. So we were all set.

We made two green candles for April for an early birthday gift.

 

 

As we were shopping that day, Peter and I stopped by Drug Emporium. We picked up a variety of things (it’s that kind of store), but I was specifically searching for cold medicine. I’d waked up Monday morning feeling snuffly, and the longer the day went, the worse I felt. I’ve caught a cold, I thought. I can’t recall the last time I’ve had a cold. Not just in months; maybe in a few years. And as I thought about it, the more I realized that I’d spent quite some time the past Friday with a hoard of kids, some of whom might possibly had colds. And, even though they might have felt a little under the weather, they might have talked their families into letting them go on to school anyway, since it was Grandparents’ Day.

I could be wrong. I suppose. But that’s what I think happened.

I checked information about colds and read that they last from seven to ten days! Yikes. The Tylenol COLD + FEVER SEVERE helped somewhat, and the seven to ten days seems to be lasting longer. I’m still blowing my nose.

 

Kevin and April came and worked diligently, cutting those logs in half and making a really nice border along the grassy part of the back yard.

 

It just seemed like a really good idea. The afternoon had been so balmy. After dinner, they put out the fire. David and April moved on into the house, and Kevin and Peter put up their big tent and settled down for a good night’s sleep.

Except, it was still very early spring, even in Central Texas. They finally came into the house at 2:00 a.m. I don’t know that anyone actually checked the temperature, but it was ‘way colder than just uncomfortable. Maybe they’ll come back in a few weeks and try again.

May the glory of the Lord endure forever; May the Lord rejoice in His works;
He looks at the earth, and it trembles; He touches the mountains, and they smoke.
I will sing to the Lord as long as I live; I will sing praise to my God while I have my being.
 May my praise be pleasing to Him; As for me, I shall rejoice in the Lord.

Psalm 104:31-34 (New American Standard Bible)

 

 

And, it’s time to see how the boy has grown.

 

 

 

 

Peter at nine

Looking at the difference in where the top of his head is, comparing his height at 8 and his height at 9, he’s grown quite a bit. And, he’s barefoot in the 9 year photo.

 

 

 

Why Is “The Hard Way” the Most Effective Way

| Patience, Peace

Yes, I’m a Senior Adult woman who’s been cooking and baking for many years. And yet . . .

I’d been working hard at some sewing and cleaning and house stuff, and I noticed what time it was. I’d thawed some dinner for David, and I checked to see how that was going and then to find what else I should/could add to the main dish. I got out a roll to also thaw, and found some frozen vegetables to add, too.

I checked the suggested temperature and cooking time. I opened a cabinet to get something to put those vegetables on, to bake in the oven, popped them in, and set the timer on my phone so I’d know when to go back and retrieve them. Then I went back to that cleaning work.

When the timer went off (and I felt so well-organized to have remembered to set that timer), I went back to the kitchen. I opened the oven to to this:

The item I used to hold the broccoli tots was the glass lid to one of my large casserole dishes. And while I’m pretty sure that I’ve baked things in that casserole dish, even with its lid, I’m guessing that the lid itself wasn’t really intended to be a baking utensil by itself.

So, here it is: glass pieces and shards, from the top rack to the bottom of the oven. And broccoli tots from the top shelf to the floor of the oven. I turned off the oven and left it open to cool. I went back a while later, removed all the glass, all the tots, and threw everything away.

And, obviously, I also need to clean the oven.

 

I removed the oven liner, which was covered in shards. I guess I might have been able to wash and clean all the shards off, but that seemed maybe a little dangerous. I threw it away, too. I had a second liner still in its box. I got that new one, and trimmed it to fit the oven floor.

There were more broccoli tots in the freezer (the last of the broccoli tots).

I got another glass container. I really felt a little anxious about this one, but I kept reminding myself of all the other things I’ve baked, successfully in the oven (meat loaf, bread), using that same glass pan.

I turned the oven back on, put the pan, with tots, in, and set the timer on my phone. Again. I kept going back and looking, and everything was fine. The container didn’t smash into shards. The broccoli tots baked nicely.

The oven liner was the last on in the box, so I ordered more.

There is a right time for everything, and everything on earth will happen at the right time.

There is a time to be born and a time to die.
There is a time to plant and a time to pull up plants.
 There is a time to kill and a time to heal.
There is a time to destroy and a time to build.
 There is a time to cry and a time to laugh.
There is a time to be sad and a time to dance with joy.
 There is a time to throw weapons down and a time to pick them up.
There is a time to hug someone and a time to stop holding so tightly.
 There is a time to look for something and a time to consider it lost.
There is a time to keep things and a time to throw things away.
 There is a time to tear cloth and a time to sew it.
There is a time to be silent and a time to speak.
 There is a time to love and a time to hate.
There is a time for war and a time for peace.

Ecclesiastes 3: 1-8 (Easy-to-Read Version)

 

 

 

 

 

I Do Miss the Sound of Waves

| Joy, Peace

I’m taking a couple of classes in the Lifetime Learning program at Baylor, designed for senior adults to keep our minds sharp, or sharper. I’ve finished the “Daughters of WWII Vets” series, and now am enjoying “The Oceans in a Changing Climate System.” I signed up for this one because, well, because the teacher for the series is a friend from church, an Assistant Professor in the Geosciences Department at Baylor. And, I really enjoyed an Oceanography class I took in college.

That Oceanography class was one of the most interesting science classes I’ve ever taken. The class was a large one, filling up a very large classroom. One of the requirements for the class was for us to visit the Oceanography center, which was on a small island in the middle of a bay on the windward side of Oahu. The lab class was offered every Saturday and Sunday during the semester, and we had to sign up for just one day, and we would spent most of the day there. “Bring a sack lunch,” they said. “Wear clothes that you don’t mind getting wet. And be sure to wear sturdy shoes that you also don’t mind getting wet.”

David drove me over to the meeting place. I found a student who was in my History Lab class, so I had a friend to chat with and work with.  A large barge sort of thing chugged over to pick us up, and then chugged it’s way back across to that small island. We did some experiments, we listened to a lecture, we rode on that barge, which had a large, small-holed net attached to the rear. Then we brought up all the small fauna that had gotten trapped in the net. We carefully looked at the bay’s sea life, and then released them back into the water, I guess so that the next group of students could find them, too.

At one point, we were given, in pairs, a “Look Box.” The box was made of four pieces of wood, each about a foot square, and painted white. There were cut-out hand holds at the tops of two of the pieces. And there was a piece of clear plastic attached at the bottom of the box. That part of the bay was shallow, and when we held the box down in the water, we could easily see what was growing and living on the bay’s floor.

As I took my turn with the box, it was like wearing a giant pair of goggles. I was carefully walking, a few steps at a time. And then, I stepped on the edge of a piece of coral. My foot slipped off, and my ankle bone scraped against that coral. I looked down through the box and saw a trail of blood, drifting from my ankle bone. And, just as I was looking at the blood, the teacher said, “And, in the spring, sharks come into the bay here to spawn.”

It was fall, so I didn’t really have anything to worry about, and, of course, the water in which we were walking wasn’t nearly deep enough for sharks. But, it was a bit unnerving.

We returned to the island and had a break before the next project. We’d been told that there was a First Aid area, if we needed something, so my friend and I walked around until we found the First Aid place. The nurse who was there took one look at my bloody foot and fussed, angrily, at me. “You were supposed to wear shoes,” she said frowning.

That’s how bloody my foot was. The nurse didn’t even realize that I had my shoe on.

Once we cleared that up, she did clean the cut, which really was pretty small, and put on a Band-Aid, or two, so my ankle looked okay. My shoe did not.

Eventually, it was time to get back on that barge one last time, and putt-putt our way back to Oahu. David was waiting there, and did notice the shoe. Hard to miss.

Back at home, he took off the nurse’s Band-Aid, and did a more thorough job of cleaning out the slit. Everything healed up, and no one had to amputate my foot.

But, I thoroughly enjoyed my Oceanography class. I even thought, for just a moment, that I might could change my major to Oceanography. Since I had only my student teaching to complete, and one more History class, it didn’t seem all that realistic.

 

 

You alone are the Lord, Creator of the heavens and all the stars, Creator of the earth and those who live on it, Creator of the ocean and all its creatures. You are the source of life, praised by the stars that fill the heavens.

Nehemiah 9:6 (Contemporary English Version)

 

Different states have different degree plans for majors. At Baylor, I got to skip one science class because I had a good science test score (Biology) on my SAT. And, I chose Western Civ. to fulfill my history requirement. At University of Hawaii, I needed an additional science, and it was that amazing Oceanography class. And, Western Civ. wasn’t going to be enough. I could choose between Eastern Civ. and World Civ. I went with World. All these classes had a section I and a section II. And, we had History Labs, because our class met in (and I’m not making this up) Varsity Theater. I had read that on the university’s class schedule. I was astonished to see that Varsity Theater was actually a movie theater. And, the theater’s owners were savvy enough to open up the snack counter and to operate the popcorn machine. The class met at 11:00 a.m. and many students would have been in a couple of classes before this one, and would be hungry. The professor let us go at 15 ’til the hour. I always arrived early enough to get the end seat of the last row, because this was my first class of the day, and I had to walk uphill and across campus to get to my next class.

And, we had History Labs, because, in a movie theater, there’s not much space for asking questions, and it’s certainly not a venue for testing. So, each History Lab had a Teaching Assistant for discussions and taking tests, and 20 or 30 students.

Thinking About What’s Next

| Faithfulness, Joy, Patience

A couple of weeks ago, I wrote about an oncoming bitter weather forecast. It was cold, but not the sort of freezing that we had a year ago. Then, things warmed up and I worked outside in the yard on Monday and Tuesday afternoons. And now, it’s  COLD again. Not as bad as last year, but pretty cold. In the 20’s, and we just don’t really know how to get along in that kind of weather. School’s didn’t close, but they pushed the opening time on Thursday back two hours.

I made a big pot of chicken and wild rice soup, which should last us a few days. And I think I’ll be willing to get out Friday afternoon, to replenish some groceries, like milk, and return some library books, which might be overdue.

But last Wednesday, just as the temperatures were really dropping, I was able to read with my Reading Club girls.

The Fifth Grader did finish the Venus and Serena Williams book.

Given her previous choice (Venus and Serena Williams), it seems as though she’s wanting books about athletes. I was wanting Wilma Rudolph, but I don’t see her in the list of these books. I’ll have to look through the books online, to find other female athletes in this series.

Meanwhile, I’ve combed through the libraries in town and located these books for the Fourth Grader.

 

These are all the Rosa Parks’ books that are easy to read with short texts on each page. Of course, they all say basically the same thing, but we are going to plow through all of them. We are SO going to have the Rosa Parks’ story down pat.

 

 

There are, of course, two other libraries in town that I can go visit. I have checked online, to see where the available books are. I think I’ve got copies of all the picture book versions, but I might go and check to see if there are books that we could use. There might be books that are going to be too hard to read, but might have some good illustrations and/or photographs. At the rate that we’re reading, we should easily get to Spring Break and beyond, with just the books that I have. She’s working really hard to read all those words.

And I am working hard to try to explain what things were like for Rosa Parks, and every other African-American citizen. And I’m working hard to help her know how Rosa Parks changed things in ways that were so significant.

 

I alone know the plans I have for you, plans to bring you prosperity and not disaster, plans to bring about the future you hope for.

Jeremiah 29:11 (Good News Translation)

 

I also have plans. I hope for a future of growth and learning and understanding. This is my last year with the Fifth Grader. I’ll have another year, I hope, with the Fourth Grader. I’m already feeling sad.

I Wonder How Many Books the Library Will Let Me Check Out

| Joy, Love, Patience

I’ve never asked one of our librarians just how many books any one person is allowed to check out.

I do have a good record with the library. I almost always turn in my books on time, or renew them, and then turn them in on time. And, when I am tardy with returning a book, I always pay my fines.

At present, I have seventeen books checked out. Yep. Seventeen.

It’s those girls that I read with at the elementary school where members from my church volunteer. The Fifth Grader is almost finished with a book about Venus and Serena Williams. We should finish it next week.

The Fourth Grader really wants to read books like the one the Fifth Grader is reading. But that Fourth Grader is a very poor reader. She’s very interested in the harder books, but, even with easier books, she usually needs help with many of the words. Actually, it’s most of the words.

I’ve looked at the library’s holdings, and I’ve found several books about Rosa Parks that seem to be very easy reads. I wonder how many more books I can check out.

So we can read a few pages of Pete, and some, or all the pages in the easier Rosa Parks books I’ve seen on the library’s list. She really does want to read. And I really want her to read, too.

Recently, I was talking with another church member who has a group of three Fifth Grade boys that he reads with. He said that he’d been reading with them since they were First Graders. And I said that I’d been reading with my Fifth Grader since she was a First Grader, too. Of course, we’d missed their Fourth Grade year with the pandemic-related issues. But we’ve been part of their lives all these years.

 

We often suffer, but we are never crushed. Even when we don’t know what to do, we never give up.

2 Corinthians 4:8 (Contemporary English Version)

 

O may all who come behind us find us faithful, May the fire of our devotion light their way.
May the footprints that we leave, lead them to believe, And the lives we live inspire them to obey.
O may all who come behind us find us faithful.

Steve Green

 

I’m Planting. I’m Reading (for Myself). I’m Reading with a Fourth-Grader.

| Joy

Thursday’s been beautiful, with a high of 74°. Friday should be 77°. But Saturday, a high of only 57° and a low of 33°, with wind. And a low Sunday of 27°. So, I’m wrong to anticipate an early spring. And it is only early February, so I shouldn’t be putting away my woolen clothing. And, really, I don’t own any woolen clothing. Maybe I have one skirt that’s wool. Maybe.Thursday, I worked in the yard. I tidied up some beds. I pried up some weeds.The pieces of my neighbor’s tree that the tree guys had sawed off, and then brought over to our house, have now been moved away from the house and down to the edge of the grass, where I hope to make a nice barrier between the grass and the dirt. When Jeremy was here at Christmastime, he and April pushed and kicked all those pieces, which rolled pretty easily down.

 

This large log is inside our small shed. I’m not sure exactly why it got put in here. I think there’s a part of a limb on the back side, and I guess it’ll have to be trimmed off or maybe several inches will need to be cut off from the bottom of the quite large limb. It was a very large tree.

 

 

I am so glad to report that I have finally finished this book. The young woman that I first met in the beginning pages, has ran away, and didn’t reappear until the next to last page of the book. The two primary calligraphers have been angry with each other for pages and chapters, until one of them murdered the other one, and then went to prison. And I never learned the secret. Until the very last page of the book. And it was a very satisfactory ending.

 

 

Here are the open pages the above book and a couple of other library books I’ve recently checked out. I looked and those other books had more pages. But then, when I compared the size of the type and the white space on the various pages, I felt relieved. I think the eye strain from the small print and so closely spaced words and lines is going to be very much less, as I begin reading these books.

 
 
 
 
 
 

And here are the books I checked out from the library in the past couple of days.  Two for me, and the rest for a girl I’m reading with at the elementary school where volunteers from my church go to read with kids at lunchtime. She seems to particularly ford of Pete the Cat. I like the Pigeon. We might need to take turns.

 
 
 
 
 
 

This is a Penny Plant. There was a nice spread, in a Sunday paper a couple of weeks ago, about interesting plants. I thought this one was charming.

The paper’s article said that they could be ordered and would be mailed.

I ordered one. It came, pretty quickly, in a plastic container, all wrapped in wet paper towels, and then in plastic.

It was in fine shape. I repotted it. I hope it lives.

 

 

 

Meanwhile, the moment we get tired in the waiting, God’s Spirit is right alongside helping us along. If we don’t know how or what to pray, it doesn’t matter. He does our praying in and for us, making prayer out of our wordless sighs, our aching groans. He knows us far better than we know ourselves, knows our pregnant condition, and keeps us present before God. That’s why we can be so sure that every detail in our lives of love for God is worked into something good.
Romans 8:28 (The Message Translation)