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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)

Did I Tell You It Rained?

| Patience, Peace

It actually did rain. A couple of weeks ago.

Then it began to pour. Rain fell, on and off, all day Saturday. Then it kept up all day Sunday. It doesn’t matter how much I water, nothing fills the bill, literally, like real rainfall.

I buy these pretty plants each spring. They are two or three inches tall when I get them. This year I bought sixteen of them, I think. They are heat tolerant and thrive in my western exposure front bed. They reseed themselves all during the summer. They were doing all right. Blooming. New ones were growing. Then it rained. The blossom count doubled, and has stayed high. See those two flowers in the middle, with the darker centers? Those aren’t flower centers. Those are bees. I’m doing my part for the local bee population and honey harvesters.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

But, just in case I’ve lost all hope for nicer weather, the fine folks at the HEB grocery store would like to remind me that I shouldn’t feel like SUMMER WILL NEVER END! (Which is a little bit how I feel, as I do every August, and into September.) Halloween (and the END OF OCTOBER) is apparently just a heartbeat away!!

Even Peter thought it was inappropriate.

 

Celebrate and sing! Play your harps for the Lord our God.
He fills the sky with clouds and sends rain to the earth, so that the hills will be green with grass.
He provides food for cattle and for the young ravens, when they cry out.
The Lord doesn’t care about the strength of horses or powerful armies.
The Lord is pleased only with those who worship him and trust his love.

Psalm 147:7-11 (Contemporary English Version)

 

I know. If I want it to rain on me more, I should move somewhere else. I do feel fortunate that we live in an area with a very big lake. We have enough water to drink and to use for cooking and for keeping my plants healthy. I know that many other people are not so fortunate.

Enough Excitement to Last Me for Weeks

| Kindness, Patience

At the end of Peter’s visit with us, a couple of weeks ago, I’d washed all his laundry and packed it up. We’d made a list of all the errands we needed to run, before I took him to meet Kevin so they could return to Fort Worth. I’d loaded all his stuff in the car. We gathered all the videos and books that needed to go back to the library. And, just before I said, “Let’s get in the car,” Peter came to me and whispered, “I heard a sound. I think there’s a bird in the house.”

I thought we had time to play a pretend game, and I said, quietly (because we don’t want to alarm pretend birds in the house), “Where is the bird now? Is he still in this room?”

“No,” said Peter. “I think he flew into your room.” So, we tiptoed to my room, walked quietly in, and …

 

 

THERE WAS A BIRD IN MY ROOM!!!

There it is. Sitting on the blinds. I tried to get some video, but the bird was way too quick for me (and probably really fearful, too).

Then I told Peter, “I know exactly what to do.”

I did know exactly what to do, because, several years ago, we had a bird in the house. David had left early to go to church one Sunday morning. He lowered the garage door when he left, and a bird, who flew in the garage for some unexplained reason, and unknown to me, got stuck. When I opened the door to leave for church, the bird flew in. At that point, I had no idea what to do, so I just went on to church.

When I got back home, I called Animal Control. Turns out, they do not come and remove birds from people’s houses. “How do I get the bird out, then,” I said.

“Close all the doors in the house,” the guy said. “Of course, you’ll leave open the door of the room where the bird is. Then, open a door to the outside, being sure that you’ve left a way for the bird to leave. He’ll fly out.”

I found that a little bit incredible, but I followed the instructions, and, indeed, the bird flew out the front door.

I told Peter what we needed to do, and we got to work, closing doors and turning out lights in spaces that didn’t have doors. I opened the front door and put a flowerpot by the storm door, to keep it open, too. I went in the bedroom and rattled around to make the bird uneasy, and, Ta-Dah, the bird flew right out the open front door. Whew! Peter’s idea was that we should leave all the interior doors closed, to keep out birds that might fly in at some other time, but I said, no. Birds don’t usually fly into people’s houses. I thought we’d be all right.

So then, we were getting things together to leave the house and Peter said, “Mimi. I think there’s another bird in the house.”

“Oh, no, I don’t think so,” I said. “It’s not very likely that another bird has flown in.”

Hmmmm. There was another bird in the house. In the living room. So we went back to closing up rooms, and I opened the door, and ZIP. The bird flew out so fast that we barely saw him.

Here’s what we think happened:

The garage door was down, and I was taking Peter’s bags and suitcase and backpack, etc., to the car. We’re assuming that the birds either got caught in the garage, when David closed it when he left the house to go to work. Or, they may have just wiggled in the spaces at the bottom of the garage door. We know they are able to do this, because the baby birds who were in the nest that was in the garage, did not die in the two weeks we were gone. The nest was empty when we returned.

However they came to be in the garage, we’re thinking that they were alarmed by my walking around in that dark space, and flew into the house, which I had left open, and was substantially brighter than the garage, hoping to escape. I didn’t see them go in. Peter didn’t see them go in. But … they were in. And apparently, pretty anxious to get out.

 

Lord God All-Powerful, your temple is so lovely! Deep in my heart I long for your temple, and with all that I am I sing joyful songs to you.

 Lord God All-Powerful, my King and my God, sparrows find a home near your altars; swallows build nests there to raise their young.

You bless everyone who lives in your house, and they sing your praises.

Psalm 84:1-4 (Contemporary English Version)

Bible commentaries say that this psalm writer was envious of the birds that made their nests under the eaves of the temple, because they, basically, lived at church. I know that the birds I’ve had in my house were always looking for the light. A good example for me.

 

Housework

| Faithfulness, Love, Patience

The company started leaving last Friday. Peter was with me as I was doing post-guest cleaning and getting the house back to its regular self. Putting stuff away, like dishes and napkins. Going through the fridge and tossing the tiny bits of leftovers that got stored and saved. Laundering the towels, which mostly got folded up and stored in bins in the linen closet, waiting for the next guests. And washing the sheets, which got put back on the beds. Before the guests came, I also laundered the mattress pads and pillow protectors when getting the clean sheets on the day bed and trundle ready for guests. When I removed the sheets and pillow cases from the guest room bed, post guests, I thought, Hmmm. I should wash this mattress pad and pillow protectors, too.

That load was a washer-full, and I gathered up the pad and pillow cases and protectors and put them in the dryer by themselves, so there’d be enough space. Later, when I went back out to the laundry room to retrieve them and put the sheets in, I discovered that I’d put the big ol’ mattress pad in first, and then added the pillow protectors and cases. The mattress pad had rotated itself around and around in the dryer, trapping the pillow cases and protectors against the dryer door. They weren’t sopping wet, but they were damp. Really damp.

I carried them to the guest room which is also where I sew, and iron. I put up the ironing board (with its lovely new ironing board cover) and plugged in the iron. And spent the next few minutes doing the same thing I had done when I was nine or ten years old and learning to iron. Ironing pillowcases. JoAnne remembers doing that, too–our mom handing down her “taking care of the house” skill set.

A couple of the pillowcases were 100% cotton. One was really damp and ironed up easily and all and starchy-ish. The other one had dried completely and was badly wrinkled (as 100% cotton things sometimes are, especially those that are really old and don’t have the tiniest bit of man-made fibers in them). This one should be sprinkled, I thought.

And when the weather was rainy …

I didn’t actually sprinkle the wrinkled pillowcase. (I really did once have one of those sprinkler tops. I got it in a collection of gadgets and things that were a wedding gift. I haven’t seen it in years.) But I do have, in the sewing room closet, a spray bottle with rose-scented water in it. When things need ironing, I spray the wrinkles, and then iron them. It seems to work as well. And smells good.

Do your work willingly, as though you were serving the Lord himself, and not just your earthly master.

Colossians 3:23 (Contemporary English Version)

I’m going to try to remember that, next time I’m cleaning the bathrooms. Or cleaning up the kitchen. Or pulling weeds. And all the other things …

 

In a completely unrelated issue, here are photos from July 6, when Peter and the little boy next door made chalk pathways, and from August 5, when I was explaining to Peter how I knew it hadn’t rained at all here.

Late this afternoon, rain poured. There was lightning, and thunder. There is not a speck of chalk dust on the porch, the sidewalk, nor the driveway. Peter’s idea was that, if it did rain, he and Ford should chalk things up again, so we can continue to keep a running record of the un-rainfall rate around here.

Company’s Come! (Part 2)

| Faithfulness, Joy, Love

Sunday morning, I dropped Natalie at the Shipley’s donut place across the street from Antioch church, where she attended while she was at Baylor. After Sunday School with preschoolers, I went back to the Shipley’s, where Natalie was waiting, after the Antioch first service was over. Then we picked up JoAnne for a trip to Fort Worth to visit Kevin, April, and Peter. A nice visit, fun games, ate a soup and sandwich dinner, then took April with us to Dallas to visit our cousin Suzy.

 

On the way to Suzy’s, I had my phone’s maps on, so we could get quick directions. I plugged in my phone, to recharge the battery. The phone’s instructions came through the car’s audio system, as did the music I had on my phone. They fiddled with the system, trying to get the driving directions exclusively. So, three ladies with suggestions, some music, and me, uncertain about the route. They persevered, and we arrived just fine (after a small detour when I did not “turn at the second exit from the roundabout,” but instead, turned at the first exit from the roundabout).

JoAnne and Natalie hadn’t seen Suzy in years! We chatted and caught up, and slept soundly in comfortable beds.

Monday-Got up for breakfast, and chatted on and on until a late lunch, and chatted on and on until 2:00 or so. And, in there somewhere, Natalie and April took my phone out to my car and enabled the Bluetooth, which (of course) means that the music will stop when the phone gives me driving instructions.

When those younger girls were getting some information from Siri on their phones Suzy was interested, and they worked to help her get the Siri function enabled on her phone. Two or three times, Suzy went through the steps, all the way to completion. Then, when she said, “Hey, Siri,” Siri immediately popped up, ready to help … on JoAnne’s phone. They needed a few more attempts to be successful.

The newly installed Bluetooth worked wonderfully well; we got ourselves back to Fort Worth effortlessly (pretty much). And then on back to Waco.

A box for what to keep, what to toss, what to forward to our cousins, whose dads had written, too.

Girls’ Night Out at the Movies. We went to see Ocean’s 8.

More letter-reading. (See last week’s blog.)

Natalie’s friend Hillary has come to Antioch Church for a training event. She’s staying here, too.

Tuesday-More letters. Some shopping. Some Bush’s fried chicken tenders. More letters.

 

Wednesday-After so very many days of scorching heat, this morning is really nice. Ninety-five in the afternoon, but after three-digit numbers the past many days, it seems, well, not exactly nice. But “not-quite-so-bad.”

I’ve hit a letter-reading wall. There’s so much emotion, so much anxiety. I’m having to take a break.

Childhood friend, Debbie, came over to visit. She said, “It’s just like it used to be.” (She’s sort of right.) “It even smells the same.” It is the house where she came to visit and play and spend the night with JoAnne. And maybe it does smell somewhat the same. But Daddy stopped pipe smoking in 1976. Maybe there’s a little bit of lingering pipe smoke smell. Personally, I don’t notice it. But she did say that it was just the same, but the garage door was down.

For all my growing up years, we did keep the garage door open. When Daddy went to work each morning, he lifted the garage door and it stayed up until late evening, when he was closing up the house for the night. When we moved in, twelve years ago, I kept up the habit, lowering the door when I left the house, but keeping it open when I was home. It just seems friendlier. When we were kids, all the garage doors stayed open, and that’s how we went in and out and knocked on the kitchen doors, looking for friends to play with. Recently, there have been several car break-ins in the neighborhood. A neighbor warned me that somebody could come in the garage while it was open, and hide (which is perfectly possible) and, when I left the garage and lowered the door, that thief could easily get into the house and ransack it. So, I’ve started keeping the garage door down all the time. When I remember to. And Debbie found it unusual. And somewhat wrong.

 

We went to the James Avery jewelry store and to the Bundt Cake store. Kevin and Peter arrived. Kevin, Hillary, and team Natalie/Peter played a rousing game of Survive, a family favorite that Natalie remembers playing at our house when she was a little girl. I went to bed really early. Later, they went to Target for more games to play. I slept through all that.

 

Thursday-Trying to tie up loose ends, finish up, squeeze out all the love and joy and fun.

 

 

And because we haven’t had enough company, another of Natalie’s friends who in Waco for the Antioch Church training. Her name is Robin.

 

Friday morning, they’ll be getting into a rental car. Kevin will be leaving, too, for the Bell County Comic Con. Peter and I will be somewhat lonesome. Maybe we’ll make some cookies.

 

 

 

People who don’t take care of their relatives, and especially their own families, have given up their faith. They are worse than someone who doesn’t have faith in the Lord.

Timothy 5:8 (Contemporary English Version)

 

There are lots of ways to take care of family, our biological folks, and our faith family. We often think first of the financial and physical needs. Emotional needs are important, too. Working, playing, and laughing together feed us significantly, in ways that are sometimes as, or more, important than a healthy meal. Doing those things with family and friends also makes us all healthier.

Company’s Come!

| Joy, Love

My sister JoAnne and my niece Natalie arrived earlier this week for a visit. I picked them up at DFW on Wednesday, early afternoon. Flight on time, bags arrived. Then we made a stop to take some family photos to one of David’s nieces and her husband, who told us the story of how, yes, he did, indeed, deliver his newest son, in their car in the hospital parking lot! What a guy!

Then, after a stop at In-and-Out Burger, a nice safe trip back to Waco. I didn’t realize how long it had been since they’d been here. JoAnne kept saying things like, “Oh, look, your new countertops” (2013), and “Oh, you moved the treadmill in here!” (also 2013). And that sort of thing. And, a good night’s rest.

It’s been several years since Natalie lived here and ‘way more years since JoAnne lived here (even though she’s visited), but there’ve been lots of changes, including the new way that we’re sort of famous now. (Yes, we’ve been famous for lots of things in the recent past, but we don’t need to go there, do we.)

JoAnne and Natalie playing a “Connect Four” type game while we’re waiting for our turn to have breakfast.

So, yesterday morning, off to the be part of the Magnolia phenomenon. First-Magnolia Table. Not too long a wait. Delicious breakfast. Delightful waitress (who actually had attended, for one year, the same elementary school where JoAnne and I went).

 

 

Then, on to the Silos. No problem parking, not too crowded in the store. It is summer in Central Texas, so we didn’t spend much time enjoying the outdoor fun stuff there. And, for the next month, Thursdays-Saturdays, the original Magnolia store is open, selling “last chance and slightly damaged” items at a discount. So we went there, too.

Natalie and I were a little confused by this. Is Abraham Lincoln trying to convince Civil War contemporaries that they should be partying like Revolutionary-era folks?

 

 

We visited a shopping area in a downtown warehouse, where many small shops have space for selling a wide variety of interesting, modern, antique, decorative, and functional things. We drove around the Baylor area and looked at all the new buildings now siting on the sites of places where Natalie shopped (the old HEB grocery store) and lived.

 

We went to Lowe’s and to Target, looking for a new coiled hose for me. As we were walking into Target, I said, “Did we eat lunch?” Hmmm. I guess we didn’t. So, after Target, we went to Schmaltz’s Sandwich Shop, a long time favorite of the family. JoAnne did mention that, when she was looking up how to spell it, she discovered that “Schmaltz” means “rendered chicken fat.” “Do you suppose they know?” she asked, while we were eating our yummy sandwiches that do not seem to have any rendered chicken fat in them. “I suppose if it was that easy for you to discover, that many other diners have discovered it, also. And probably have felt like they should know,” I said. “But I don’t know that we should want to chat with them about it.”

We went to the second-hand book store next to the sandwich shop, bought some books, and came home.

One of the tasks we hope to complete/reach a half-way point/at least get started on, is to go through some boxes and bags of our parents’ memorabilia (letters, photos, documents) and determine what can be discarded, what should be kept, and what we’re individually willing to deal with. It could take a while.

 

My child, obey the teachings
    of your parents,

and wear their teachings
as you would a lovely hat
    or a pretty necklace.

Proverbs 1:8-9 (Contemporary English Version)

 

I don’t know how much ground we’ll cover. Maybe we’ll find some interesting, unknown, unusual things. Maybe we’ll see our parents in a new light. Probably we’ll find the same sorts of things, attitudes, and ideas with which we’re already pretty familiar. As JoAnne often says, “It’ll be an adventure.”

We’d Made a Plan

| Love, Peace

So much for plans.

After all the July 4th-ing, Kevin and April and Jeremy went back to Fort Worth to have a business meeting for the small business they own. Jeremy was due to fly back to New York on Saturday afternoon. Peter stayed here and I was going to take him back to Fort Worth Monday morning.  Saturday morning, the phone rang and woke me up. It was David’s sister with news that his mom had passed away at about 5:00 a.m. I told her David and Peter had left the house already, to go have breakfast, as is their Saturday morning custom. I hadn’t actually looked at a phone to see what time it was, and as I was talking with her, Peter walked by the door (it was earlier than I thought). “You’re still here,” I said perplexed. “Where’s Grandad?” Grandad was just walking out of the bathroom, so I handed over the phone. Then, we began to make new plans.

David and Peter did go to breakfast, then to David’s work to get some things organized. Then they went to the Mayborn Museum for a while, then lunch at Wendy’s, then back home. We moved the car seat from my car to David’s, then they went to get the oil changed (a task David had planned for Monday). Then, back to David’s work, then back to the Mayborn. Then, back home. I did laundry.

Sunday was a regular Sunday for us, and I did Peter’s laundry in the evening, and packed. We left at 7:00 a.m. Monday and took Peter back to Fort Worth, dropped off the car seat, and picked up Jeremy. At some place we got gas Monday, a car next to us pulled out. I heard a “crunch” and looked over to see two squashed drink cans on the asphalt. Along with a plastic drink bottle. “Wait!” I said, and got out the retrieve them. David and Jeremy were a little incredulous. “Frances has a great recycle bin,” I said, and in Memphis, I added those things along with a few magazines I had finished reading.

 

We drove to Memphis and spent the night with David’s Aunt Frances, who went on to Tennessee with us. We checked into a hotel, the guys went to a grocery store, and brought back some dinner for me and Frances, then they went to Knoxville to get Kevin (whose plane kept getting delayed) from the airport.

Jeremy had gone shopping Saturday and bought a shirt and slacks. He asked for a “grayish, blackish tie” from David’s assortment. I chose five for him to choose from, but he ended up using one of Kevin’s. We went to the funeral home Saturday morning for the visitation and then the service. Then, a trip to the cemetery for the internment, then to her church for lunch. Then, Frances and I back to the hotel and David to the airport with the boys. A busy few days.

Outside the church–the Lintz men, in their blue-and-white-striped shirts and their white funeral programs in their pockets. What a trio.

 

 

 

Later that evening, most of us got together at a sister-in-law’s house. At some point, someone said, “Those flowers that Jeremy’s church sent was one of the prettiest arrangements there.” And I said, “Jeremy’s church sent flowers?”

Years ago, my mother-in-law began asking family members what they might like to have from her home. David wanted a grandfather clock. Kevin wanted the hammered dulcimer. A couple of years ago, when we’d gone to Tennessee to visit, I went from there to a family wedding in Baltimore, then on to New York to visit Jeremy and Sarah. With the extra space in the car and trunk, David was able to pull down the rear seat backs and extend the trunk’s size. The clock fit perfectly. We brought the dulcimer home with us last week.  A lap dulcimer (or mountain dulcimer) is a strummed and this is how it’s played.   A hammered dulcimer is played by striking the strings with wooden “hammers” and is played like this.

 

Because of our faith, we know that the world was made at God’s command. We also know that what can be seen was made out of what cannot be seen.

Hebrews 11:3 (Contemporary English Version)

So many wonderful things God created; I suppose we all have our own list of “favorites.” Music and flowers and family are some of mine.

Is That YOURS?

| Joy

Yes, I’ve been teaching little kids at church for quite a while. And since 1978, I’ve been teaching Sunday School in the same room. So, yeah, I guess, I do somewhat, a little bit, think of it as my room. I do try to remember to say, “The room where I teach Sunday School … ,” because that’s the truth. Other things happen in the room, like Children’s Bible Club (which is what we call the event that is typically referred to as “Bible School”).

Children’s Bible Club happened last month, a couple of weeks after Fun with Friends. I e-mailed the woman who was going to be teaching in the room (you know, “the room where I teach Sunday School”). She has as much, if not more, experience than I, so I knew she wouldn’t be confused about things like, “why are all these blocks stacked on shelves instead of in a bin?” and “why is there play dough in here?” and “WHY ON EARTH IS THERE A REAL STAPLER SITTING OUT WHERE KIDS CAN GET AT IT?!?”

I was careful to put away all the books and puzzles that I’d been using for a couple of weeks in Sunday School, to leave space for what she needed to put out. I tidied up the dramatic play center, checking for errant markers/crayons that had found their way into drawers and play purses, and gathering up the play money and putting it back into the cash register.

I replenished the art shelves, checking the paper, markers, and glue bottles.

Everything seemed ready to go. I got a good report from the teacher about the things they did.

The next Sunday, the room looked all orderly. I got out the things I needed for Sunday School. Teachers arrived. Kids came. We were all involved and busy, and then I went to the shelves to get some masking tape. The masking tape space was empty. Hmmm.

I looked around the room. Nope.

I checked the cabinets. Nada.

I asked the other teachers, in case it was right in front of me and I’d missed it. We all looked around. No masking tape dispenser. I looked in the cabinets again. (Why do we do that?) The tape dispenser still wasn’t in a cabinet.

We looked in the rooms next to ours (which are not being used right now). You’ve probably guessed. No tape dispenser.

We love our tape dispenser. It’s such a grown-up thing to be able to do. Tearing one’s own tape (which is sometimes, as a kid is learning how, a very l-o-n-g piece of tape) is a wonderful fine-motor skill. And, because I usually have two or three different colors of tape in the cabinet, when we get to the end of one roll, we vote on our color choice for the next roll. Democracy at the preschool level. One Sunday, there were eight kids and the vote was a tie. Four for green to four for blue. No one was willing to change their vote, so I said, “Okay. We’ll try again next week,” and there was no masking tape in the dispenser. The next week, seven kids. Blue had more supporters and won the vote.

Which brings me back to the missing tape dispenser with the blue tape. I just figured that someone came looking for masking tape, borrowed it from the room, carried it someplace else where someone else, and maybe two or three someone elses, had taken turns using it, until no one really knew where it had come from. I felt like it would turn up.

Last Sunday, I needed to laminate some Bible verse words (kids were going to jump on them, and they really don’t last if they’re not laminated). I went to the resource room, turned on the laminating machine, and left it to warm up. A while later, I went back with my colorful words.

Our resource room–disinfecting wipes, scales (which are weighing a rather hefty two-hole punch), clip boards, the laminating machine, and TA-DAH!! the tape dispenser.

And, of course, it is the absolutely most logical place for an office quality tape dispenser to be. I’m imagining a bunch of people working together, and when they were finished and cleaning up, someone said, “I wonder where this belongs.” And someone else said, “It probably belongs in the resource room.” And, actually, somebody should buy one for the resource room. And maybe I should write my name on mine. I did, of course, return it to its place on the art shelves. I think in another couple of weeks, we’ll be ready for a vote for the next color.

Meanwhile, closer to home. Very close.

A few sprinkles of rain fell and they moved to the porch. They mixed colors of chalk paint and tried some pouring techniques, which, delightfully, means that you can walk in the chalk paint and make interesting shoe footprints. Some rain fell Sunday afternoon, but didn’t do much washing-away.

 

 

What is faith? It is the confident assurance that something we want is going to happen. It is the certainty that what we hope for is waiting for us, even though we cannot see it up ahead.

Hebrews 11:1 (The Living Bible)

I know I’m taking the serious words of faith and applying them to something as trivial as a misplaced tape dispenser. But the confidence I felt was similar. I was quite sure that the missing tape dispenser was indeed near and real and waiting to be found, just as I am confident that God’s eternal love holds me near.

Last Wednesday, a week ago, my mother-in-law, talking to an aide at the nursing home, said, “I’m leaving.” The aide asked where she was going. “Heaven,” she said, “to see my brother and sister and husband.” Early, early Saturday morning, she did. A bit of Hebrews 11:1.

She’s a Grand Old Flag, She’s a Good-Tasting Flag

| Joy, Love, Patience

I try to continue the family tradition of having a Flag cake for Fourth of July celebrations. I keep trying out new ideas, often coming up with things which bear just a tiny bit of discernible American flag.

When I make a regular, full-sized cake, there’s lots of cake leftovers. To circumvent that, I thought maybe a rolled cake might give everyone a piece of flag-themed cake and a few extra pieces. And, I had an idea. Not necessarily a good idea, but an idea.

I thought I could bake a very shallow white layer and cut out star shapes from it. Then, I could put the white stars on a jelly roll pan and make a blue jelly roll batter to pour over the stars and then bake that. The resulting jelly roll cake would be blue with cute white stars, and then I could color some Cool Whip red and put red and white Cool Whip in the roll. Sounds easy, right?

I found a jelly roll recipe in my big cookbook. Then, I looked online for ideas, too. I found a recipe for a striped cake, that had a white cake batter divided into several different bowls and dyed into bright colors. Then, the instructions said to pipe diagonal stripes across a prepared baking pan. Baked and rolled around a filling and then sliced, it made a lively cake roll. And I thought, “Well, I could put the white stars down and pour blue batter over them, on half a pan, and then pipe red and white stripes down the other side, and then wouldn’t that be cute!” I also found a couple of YouTube videos which were even more informative. One baker showed how to make a template with shapes (she used hearts), which she put underneath a piece of waxed paper. She piped cute pink hearts of batter onto the template shapes, put the pan in the freezer, and, when the shapes were frozen, she removed the template, poured a chocolate batter over the hearts, baked it, and, ta-dah!! the cake had cute pink hearts baked into it.

Oh, yeah. I can do that!

I found some star outlines online, made a template, and mixed up a batch of batter. I made my white stars and put the pan in the freezer. It took FOREVER for them to freeze. I put the rest of the batter into the fridge. Several hours later, the star shapes were finally frozen. And by then, I should really have made a new batch of batter, but that seemed wasteful, and really, what difference would it make. (Lots, in case you wondered.) I colored half of the remaining batter blue, one fourth of the batter red, and left the other fourth white. I spread the blue batter across half the pan, over the stars; it was pretty thin. I tried piping red and white stripes across the other side. It was runny. I baked it all (and the pan was rather warped). It was a disaster, but the white stars showed up really well. I threw it all out. That was Wednesday.

Thursday, I watched the video again, and realized that the baker had made a separate, small batch of batter for the hearts. And froze that. So, I followed that recipe and made my white stars. And they froze up really quickly. Then, I used her cake batter recipe, too. The recipe said that flour could be substituted for the cocoa in the original recipe, if one didn’t want a chocolate cake. I did substitute flour, and colored all that batter blue (giving up on the idea of red and white stripes, opting for red and white Cool Whip instead). I followed the recipe carefully, poured the blue batter over the white stars, and put it in to bake. It looked all right after it had baked. The blue batter had gotten under the edges of the stars a little, but things seemed all right. I rolled up the baked cake (as instructed) and let it cool. Then, I unrolled it to get it ready to fill. The edges were a little stiff (which happens to those kinds of cakes) and, as suggested, I trimmed those edges off. I tasted those cut off edges and they were HORRIBLE. HORRIBLE, HORRIBLE, HORRIBLE. Dry, chewy (not in a good way), and just awful. So, for the second day in a row, I threw out a cake.

Friday, I made the small recipe, put white star shapes on waxed paper to freeze, and then made the original jelly roll cake recipe from the big cookbook, colored the batter blue, and poured it over the white stars. It baked up quite nicely, and, when I tasted the trimmed off edges, they tasted fine. The white stars show up great! After the rolled up cake had cooled, I unrolled it and got out the Cool Whip. Fortunately, I had had enough blue food coloring to tint all the batters I had made. I had used up some red coloring on Cake #1. I had a larger bottle of red coloring, but I chose a smaller, plastic container, thinking it looked like enough for the Cool Whip. I removed the RED lid from the container and squeezed a good amount into some of the Cool Whip. I began to stir it up, and, OllieMollieGollie!!! It was PURPLE! So, I had to dump that out!

Fortunately, there was that bottle of red coloring (which I carefully tried out on a small spoonful of Cool Whip first). So, finally after three days of trying to get a cake made, I finally had one.

As I dropped the large, very, very heavy trash bag into the big trash bin Friday afternoon, I was really sad and frustrated to realize that I had not photographed any of the epic cake fails. You’ll just have to imagine them on your own.

Here’s this year’s photo of Kevin and Jeremy in their “traditional” photo pose and you can also see what this year’s final (finally) cake looked like. We ate almost all of it up. As I write this, there’s one piece left in the fridge. By time you read this, it’ll be gone (I hope).

 

 

I’ve also mentioned another tradition, begun by my Ohio grandmother, when the strawberries ripened early in the summer. Strawberry shortcake for dinner.

My sister and I often make it these days, on July 4th. After all those lunchtime burgers and hot dogs and flag cake and ice cream, and whatever snacking might go on during the day, strawberry shortcake makes a nice evening meal. After the company arrived (Kevin and Jeremy and April and Peter), on Tuesday, I made my last trip to the grocery store and added a quart of strawberries to my cart. Wednesday, after cleaning up from the lunchtime meal, I washed and sliced the strawberries and added enough sugar “to make them weep” (my grandmother’s directive). Early evening (well, as it’s summertime, it’s more like late afternoon) I got out the new box of Bisquick to make the shortcakes.

Memorize his laws and tell them to your children over and over again. Talk about them all the time, whether you’re at home or walking along the road or going to bed at night, or getting up in the morning.

Deuteronomy 6:6-7 (Contemporary English Version)

How we behave as Kingdom people and lovers of the Lord is often wrapped up in the minutes and hours of ordinary days. How we behave on special days, like holidays and holy days, should be an exact reflection of our behavior on those ordinary days. We are the examples of God’s love and care. Or the lack of those things.

Out With the Old, and the Older, and the Older, and the Even Older . . .

| Goodness, Kindness, Patience

A while back, a few years, maybe longer than a few (I lose track), I bought a new ironing board cover. And, I bought a pretty one. For many, many, many years, I just got the regular, silver-ish, plain old ironing board covers. But the most recent time (however longish or shortish it was), I saw a lovely, red-with-flowers ironing board cover. I thought it would look nice in the room where I iron (and sometimes sew). It did. But, ironing board covers don’t last forever (at least they don’t if people keep ironing on them). A little hole developed in the middle of my pretty red ironing board cover. The more I ironed, the larger it got. I needed a new one.

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I Didn’t Realize I’d Need That

| Love

In 1953, as part of the post-WWII Baby Boom, and resulting need for more and larger housing, my parents built a house. We’d been living in a duplex that had two good-sized rooms and a bathroom and a kitchen. I shared the bedroom with my parents. They built a house in a new development; it had a big living room, a nice-sized kitchen (it accommodated a table and chairs, where we ate all our meals, and a washing machine, in addition to the usual stove and fridge and cabinets), a bathroom, and THREE bedrooms. And it had an attached garage.

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