Made in China

I've got a dozen ideas rolling around in my head and no time to write. Such is the December life in a family with two musicians and one ballerina.

While driving this evening to my job playing a Christmas extravaganza at what our son calls The Starbucks Church (another potential post), I spied this bumper sticker:

Made in China
Loved in America

The bottom of the bumper sticker had the website address of a popular local adoption agency that specializes in adoptions from China.

As the mother of two children adopted from Korea, I found this very offensive. What do most people think of when they hear the term, Made in China? Especially nowadays, they think lead poisoning, unhealthy, inferior, cheap, tacky, destined for the trash heap, etc.

The precious babies that are conceived, carried, and placed for adoption in a country with a barbaric one-child policy are none of these things. They are human beings, created in the image of God. In addition, I daresay that the vast majority of them were very loved. They just happened to be the wrong gender in a country where only one child is allowed, and a son will be the one to care for you when you're older.

Dear Lord, I pray your special blessing on orphans, their birth families (especially the birth mothers), and their adoptive families.

"Wake, Awake"

First Sunday of Advent

I wish I could have sung this hymn today. It is one of the recommended hymns to accompany today's scripture readings. The fact that it's composed by J.S. Bach is usually a guarantee that it goes straight to my "Favorites" list!

Part of the hymn includes these words:

Ah come, Thou blessèd One, God’s own belovèd Son:
Alleluia! We follow till the halls we see
Where Thou hast bid us sup with Thee.

Before I was a Christian, I knew that Christmas was a celebration of the birth of Jesus. My family put up our creche every year. The one we made at the church we attended when I was ages 9-11. But I didn't understand who He was, why He had to come, and certainly not why He had to die and be resurrected.

Each Christmas as I get older, I am afforded more and more glimpses into the answers to these questions.

May I continue to marvel in the miracle of the Baby Who came to die for me and may I learn what it means to follow Him.

(Don't forget to first turn off the blog music by scrolling down on the right. Then you can go to the link above and hear the hymn played and read all verses. Illustration above is of Johann S. Bach in his earlier years.)

"God Moves in a Mysterious Way"

A friend sent this hymn to me this evening. It was written by William Cowper (pronounced Cooper) who wrote many hymns with John Newton, famous for writing "Amazing Grace". This friend knows that I long to hear hymns sung in church, and she thought these words would speak to me.

They did, so here they are.

"God Moves in a Mysterious Way"

Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take;
The clouds ye so much dread
Are big with mercy and shall break
In blessings on your head.

When someone tells you to take something, the thing that you're supposed to take is usually there. If we are told to take courage, the courage is there for the taking. And not only is it just courage, but it is fresh courage. If you are weary and discouraged, not only is there courage for the taking, but it is fresh and new. Not the flimsy and fake "new and improved" we see on items regularly purchased at the grocery store. This fresh is a supernatural freshness, wrought only by the one true and living God.

The link above will connect you to the story behind the hymn, the melody to the hymn, and the words to all the verses. (Just a reminder: Silence the current music by first scrolling down to the Sonific box on the right and click on the play/pause button. Then, you can click on the hymn link without competing music.)

Thanksgiving 2007

The following excerpt is from a letter that colonist Edward Winslow wrote in December of 1621, after having spent a little more than a year in the New World.

"Our harvest being gotten in, our governor sent four men on fowling, that so we might after a special manner rejoice together after we had gathered the fruits of our labors...And although it be not always so plentiful as it was at this time with us, yet by the goodness of God, we are so far from want that we often wish you partakers of our plenty."

When I reflect on how much the people we now call the Pilgrims suffered during that first winter of 1620-1621, I am humbled beyond measure by their perseverance and their thankfulness.

(The above photo comes from the Plimoth Plantation website.)

Veteran's Day 2007

Yesterday, I took our son to a WWII veterans presentation at our library. There were five men from our town who were interviewed about their memories of and lessons learned from the war.

The common themes from all five were:
*learn to obey
*take personal responsibility
*utilize teamwork
*be thankful to be an American
*life is precious

Only one man mentioned prayer. Paul Murphy was on the U.S.S. Indianapolis which was hit by a Japanese torpedo just days before the war ended. Approximately 300 men died when the boat sank in 12 minutes. Around 900 men survived the sinking and were adrift at sea in shark-infested waters for four days/five nights before being discovered and picked up. Of those, only 317 survived. Murphy cries easily since suffering a stroke. But, I think he'd cry, stroke or not, whenever he remembers those who died. He said he learned to pray like it really meant something during that time in the water. I'll bet.

On the way home my son said, "I didn't want to be in a war before. Now I REALLY don't want to be in a war unless it's absolutely necessary."

Thank you to all of our troops: past, present, and future.

(photo of Paul Murphy, taken at a 2004 speech)

Faith

This excerpt comes from my Wednesday reading from My Utmost For His Highest. It struck a chord with me and has been following me around these last few days.

"Faith by its very nature must be tried, and the real trial of faith is not that we find it difficult to trust God, but that God's character has to be cleared in our own minds. Faith in its actual working out has to go through spells of unsyllabled isolation. Never confound the trial of faith with the ordinary discipline of life, much that we call the trial of faith is the inevitable result of being alive. Faith in the Bible is faith in God against everything that contradicts Him--I will remain true to God's character whatever He may do. 'Though He slay me, yet will I hope in Him'--this is the most sublime utterance of faith in the whole of the Bible."

(photo above is of mustard seeds)

Us versus Them

Our Colorado Rockies lost Game 1 in the World Series this evening. In many respects, it was an embarassing loss (13-1). But, for those of us who eagerly awaited major league baseball in Denver and then saw how the dry air and altitude made pitching difficult for our home team boys, we thought we'd NEVER see a World Series in Denver. It's been a very fun run to the World Series over the past month! The fact that many players on our team are Christians and that the team seems to be populated with a bunch of very nice guys is a plus.

One thing I notice about myself (any many others) is that when the Rockies win, we love to say things like, "We won! Our pitching was great! We dominated!" However, many times, when the Rockies lose, we tend to say things like, "They lost! They stank! Their batters just couldn't get anything going."

Notice how when the Rockies win, we all want to associate with them and BE one of them. WE'RE the ones who won. When they lose, we want to distance ourselves from them. THEY'RE the ones who lost.

What if God operated this way? He would never admit to being associated with us. Thankfully, He takes all of us whom He has redeemed, and He ALWAYS ties Himself to us, regardless of our foibles, problems, missteps, strikeouts, and errors. Even when we consciously try, we can't fathom His love for us when we are so steeped in sin. He always acts as if we are a winning team, when, in reality, we can't even get out of the locker room. Actually, we wouldn't be alive if it weren't for Him. We certainly wouldn't know how to swing a bat if it weren't for Him. And if we hit a home run, He's the one who carries the ball out of the park.

Two Choices, Worlds Apart

I received this e-mail today from Colorado Right to Life:

"Planned Parenthood of the Rocky Mountains (PPRM) is planning on breaking ground on a new 50,000-square-foot baby death camp on November 1, 2007. They plan to relocate from their current location, 20th and Vine Street, to the old Stapleton Airport area in northeast Denver. This new 4.2 million dollar mega-killing center is slated to begin operating in August 2008."

Here is the e-mail I just sent to a Denver city councilperson:

I have learned that Planned Parenthood is soon to begin construction of a new building at Stapleton. If this is true, I am extremely dismayed for two reasons.

First, Planned Parenthood doesn't promote much planning when it comes to parenthood. Nowadays, they are more known for providing abortions. The planning of parenthood should occur BEFORE one becomes pregnant. Aborting a baby is not planning. It is the ending of a human life.

Second, our son entered our family through adoption. He was born in Korea, and came to us, via United Airlines, landing at the old Stapleton Airport on December 19, 1994. You can see how the Stapleton site has a special place in our hearts, for it's where our hands-on parenting began on a chilly winter evening.

Have you ever thought that there are only two letters difference between the words abortion and adoption? Just two letters difference, and yet they are worlds apart in their goals and realities. I would like to continue to think of the Stapleton area as being a place of fertile ground for uniting and creating families, not a place where families are torn asunder and lives are ended.

I am so upset, I can't even think of a proper title for this post.

And to think, this is the eve of our daughter's eleventh birthday. Another life saved through adoption.

And So Can You!

Early this evening, I attended a candidates' forum for our town. Audience members submitted questions which were then answered by the mayoral and city council candidates.

After returning home, I joined my family in watching the Colorado Rockies baseball team play their wild card tie-breaker game on TV. The game was forced into extra innings, and things looked pretty grim when the Padres scored two runs in the top of the thirteenth. To make matters worse, the Padres' 'closer' is very good and I must admit I thought it was all over. But in the bottom of the thirteenth, we scored one run. Two runs to tie it. And then the runner on third slid into home plate on a pop fly to score the winning run. The Rockies won the game!

These two events reminded me of a children's book, In the Year of the Boar and Jackie Robinson, by Bette Bao Lord. In the book is a wonderful speech given by a school teacher to her class.

"In our national pastime, each player is a member of a team, but when he comes to bat, he stands alone. One man. Many opportunities. For no matter how far behind, how late in the game, he, by himself, can make a difference. He can change what has been. He can make it a new ball game.

"In the life of our nation, each man is a citizen of the United States, but he has the right to pursue his own happiness. For no matter what his race, religion or creed, be he pauper or president, he has the right to speak his mind, to live as he wishes within the law, to elect our officials and stand for office, to excel. To make a difference. To change what has been. To make a better America.

"And so can you! And so must you!"

Thank you, Lord, for the many ways in which we can make a difference. Thank you for Your Son, who made the ultimate difference. And, dare I say it in the same breath.....GO ROCKIES!!!!

Choose For Yourselves This Day

"...choose for yourselves this day whom you will serve...But as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord."
Joshua 24:15 NKJV

I wrote in a recent post how this section of Joshua had been referred to frequently at our church while we studied scripture concerning the rift in the Episcopal church.

A few happenings served to underscore the truth in this verse. First, some women in our church just returned from a Women of Faith conference held this past weekend, and one of the ladies was singing the praises of Beth Moore. I've heard of Beth Moore, but I know nothing about her. Someone else wisely said, "I hear people rave about Beth Moore. If what she teaches makes people talk about her so much, isn't something wrong? Shouldn't they be raving about Jesus?"

Recently, I mentioned to another home schooler something R.C. Sproul, Jr., said at the Colorado home school conference a year ago. She then sent me several internet links which criticize both Sproul and Doug Phillips of Vision Forum fame. (The purpose of my blog isn't to debate the truth or myth of either claim here.)

Lastly, in a recent conversation, someone asked me if we were 'following our priest' to the new church. I replied that we were leaving the apostate Episcopal church (which is now in the hands of the Bishop, who pushes unity over Biblical truth) and going to the new Anglican church (which our priest is founding).

In every one of these examples, I notice that problems arise when we put our trust in earthly men. I think we desperately want to find the magic bullet, the perfect book, the perfect seminar, the perfect church that will help us to become the perfect Christian. Such a thing, as invented by man, doesn't exist.

There is no magic bullet, but there was a cross and a grave that didn't mean the end of a Life. There is no perfect book, except the Book, the Holy Bible. There is no perfect seminar, except perhaps the Sermon on the Mount. And, there is no perfect church, until we all join our voices in heaven to praise our heavenly Father. Let's not put our trust in anything here on earth.

"...choose for yourselves this day whom you will serve...But as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord."

Tuesday Night Musings

I attended a city council meeting tonight and was involved in the conversations of others attending the meeting. I heard things such as: where people had been or were going for weekend getaways in the mountains, people who have met Bill Clinton and rave about his charisma, going out for $300 dinners (for two) but getting it reimbursed by Mystery Shopper, so-and-so got teacher of the month on a local TV station, praising someone for doing "it all," etc. It all made me realize that I am so thankful for my life when it gets right down to it. My life is pretty much my family and church, but I don't feel like I'm missing out on anything. I don't want to be on a million committees that take me away from my family, I don't need public praise of my teaching abilities, I don't need to name drop who I've met or been in the same room with at the White House.

Some of it's my age. But most of it is my faith. I am a child of the Living God. Who I am in Him is what counts. What He thinks is what counts.

And here's another sad thing I observed at the city council meeting. A developer was proposing a Montessori school in a new neighborhood. It would be a "school" for children ages 6 weeks (!) to 6 years. Not only was I appalled thinking of someone dropping their 6 week old baby off at a Montessori school (open 6 am to 6 pm), but there was parking for only 27 or 29 vehicles (I forget exactly). The school plans a staff of 22. That doesn't leave a whole lot of space for parents to visit, now does it? 'Just give us your kids. We know what's best for them! We don't want you nosing around in our building and messing things up!'

In our little home school every day, we find a Bible verse we like, we write it down in a notebook, share it, and say what we think it means. Here's what my children wrote today.

Our son wrote:
A good name is better than fine perfume, and the day of death better than the day of birth.
Ecclesiastes 7:1

Our daughter wrote:
Better is a dry crust with peace and quiet than a house full of feasting with strife.
Proverbs 17:1

And you know, they knew what those verses meant! That's so much richer than seeing myself on TV, being praised for teaching someone else's kids. That's so much more satisfying that being able to say that President Clinton introduced me to Nelson Mandella.

Praise God!! Thank you for showing me how great my life is!

(picture of our two precious ones studying their Catechism last week)

Empty Shells and Little Old Ladies

This day seems to be a unique one in our family. First, my husband and I both became Christians on September 16, 1984. Exactly ten years later we received the adoption papers and picture for the little boy who would become our son. Then a few years after that, both of our children became American citizens on September 16.

This year, it was to be the day that we would become Pilgrims, of sorts. For the past year and a half we have been attending an Episcopal church that we suspected would not remain so forever. It had become a magnet for people who were disgusted with the Episcopal church hierarchy and it didn't take long for us to see that things would get interesting if we stuck around.

This morning was our last Sunday in the current building. Our pastor, most of the staff, and many of the parishioners will be starting a new church in a different denomination. Our rector was going to stay until the end of this month, but the Bishop had other plans and asked him to leave after today. So, our little band of pilgrims is going to meet for two weeks of lay-led worship and prayer until our rector can perform communion again on October 7.

As my daughter and I walked out of the church for the last time today, she said, "Let's say good-bye to the church." As we stood in the "cry room" at the back of the sanctuary, for some reason I was reminded of an empty insect shell. It was as if God was telling me that the life was gone from the room, the shell served its purpose, and now there is new life beginning elsewhere.

Although this thought helped me not to cry as we left, the empty shell analogy isn't entirely accurate. I think there are some people staying at the church who are truly children of God. They are fed up with what's going on in the Episcopal church, but they just can't bring themselves to leave. They raised families in that church. They buried their husbands while at that church. They've weathered many storms in their lives, and they want to stay put in a familiar place for the few remaining years they have left on this earth.

All I can say is, God bless those "little old ladies." May they be a remnant of truth that help guide more souls to Christ in that shell which won't be so empty come next Sunday.

As For Me and My House

But as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.
Joshua 24:15b NKJV

This verse has been rolling around in my mind a lot recently. Our rector, vestry, and most of the staff have all resigned in order to leave the Episcopal Church. I suspect about half of the congregation is going to leave as well. Next Sunday is our rector's last day of preaching, as the Bishop has asked him to leave earlier than his resignation date. We never would have stayed at the church for this past year and a half if we had not thought that it would soon come to this. Yet, it is a little scary as we embark upon this new journey.

I am going to miss our church building. I'll miss the stained glass windows, the choir loft, the pipe organ, and the library that I was helping to organize. But, I am constantly reminded that the church is not a building, but people. Just as the house in the Joshua passage above is not the physical structure, but the people in the family.

If you keep reading the Joshua passage, Joshua wants the people to know that service to the Lord is not something to take lightly. When the Israelites finally respond, "The Lord our God we will serve, and His voice we will obey!" Joshua makes a covenant with them.

Dear Lord, may I take seriously what it means to serve You and obey Your voice.

9-11 Musings

I well remember my husband waking me up on September 11, 2001, to tell me that two airplanes had hit the Twin Towers.

I well remember calling my mother, half a country away, just to tell her I loved her. Just in case the end had come.

I well remember trying to keep the graphic pictures away from our children, then, ages 8 and 5.

I well remember looking up into the sky later that day. A sky where no planes flew overhead.

I well remember a good friend from high school, now living in New York City, telling me that one of her friends was a stewardess on one of the planes that was flown into the Twin Towers. Her friend loved to knit, and was most likely carrying some knitting on board for one of her grandchildren. Knitting that was destroyed by hateful men. A grandmother that was destroyed by a hateful ideology.

I well remember another friend who had just moved to NYC to play a Broadway show, sending me pictures she took of the Twin Towers just a few days before the attack.

I well remember sending an e-mail to a friend in eastern Europe, telling her that we were OK, but changed forever.



Today I thought of those lives lost. I went to a memorial site, built in our town, commemorating all those who died on September 11, 2001. Each name is etched in bronze. Forever saved in memory.

We flew our American flags today. One on the front of the house. And then James's flag, in the back yard, commemorating a life lost in Afghanistan. A life lost to protect me and you.

God bless all those touched by the losses created on this day.

Thank you to those who have given their lives for us.

Vincero!

Opera fans can debate all they want about who was the better tenor of this age. Either way, the world has lost a beautiful voice. I can't listen to Pavarotti sing Puccini's Nessun dorma from Turandot without getting a tear in my eye and a lump in my throat. Puccini always does that to me.

To listen to the clip in the post directly below, you have to silence the music that's already playing on my blog (scroll down on the right and click on the left button of the Sonific box).


Dilegua, o notte! Tramontate, stelle!
Tramontate, stelle! All'alba vincero!
Vincero! Vincero!

Depart, oh night! Set, you stars!
Set, you stars! At dawn I shall win!
I shall win! I shall win!

from Nessun dorma

Pavarotti

Horizons

If you are always taking blessings to yourself and never learn to pour out anything unto the Lord, other people do not get their horizon enlarged through you.
My Utmost For His Highest by Oswald Chambers (Sept. 3 entry)

Our son did a little bit of horizon enlarging for two boys from church. We've taken these boys fishing three times now. Our son has lent them all the gear, taught them how to cast, and helped them with everything that's needed to catch a fish. On this past Sunday, the two boys caught their first fish ever, and boy were they excited!

They kept our son VERY busy with baiting their hooks and taking the fish off the hooks. They weren't quite ready to tackle that (no pun intended) entirely on their own yet. I was so proud of our son, who patiently showed his servant heart to these boys.

After the two boys caught six fish between the two of them, our son took the opportunity to do some serious fishing of his own. As you can see, God was gracious to reward him with a great catch (pictured above, with my son still wearing his bike helmet)!

Two Souls in Glory

I just saw these entries on two blogs I read and wanted to share them.

The two blogs are kept by farmers. One is a newly single mother of six, running a dairy farm in Kansas. The other is a farmer in Minnesota who keeps a blog along with three other farmers. Both blogs have valuable insight into various aspects of the Christian life: hard work, being faithful, and persevering, to name a few.

Another thing they provide is a down-to-earth honest account of their lives. That seems to be the hallmark of all the agrarian blogs I read, and of the few ranch families I know here in Colorado. I find such honesty so refreshing, especially in a time where most of what we see or hear from various media sources has been "enhanced" visually and/or auditorally. The "pretty" girl on the cover of the latest magazine doesn't really look like that. The latest pop star doesn't really sound like that, either. But, it's pretty hard for a farmer to fake it during coffee time at church, when everyone passes his drought ravaged withering corn fields on the way to town. I appreciate honesty over facade any day.

So here are the blog posts. They're a bit long, but worth reading if you can sit a spell. By the way, I keep both blogs listed in the sidebar to the right so you can check them out anytime. They're well worth reading on a regular basis.

Northern Farmer wrote about his fellow farming neighbor, Jim, who just passed away. Tom's description of the ways Jim lived out of his faith is a true inspiration.

Another bittersweet post was by Kansas Milkmaid about a family who just laid their newborn to rest.

Bloom Where You Are Planted

This saying got me through many a difficult day when I was pining for a baby many years ago. Sometimes it was very hard to be thankful for the childlessness during our season of infertility.

There are times in my life now when I pine for something else: living away from the city, living a slower life, more in tune with nature and the seasons, and more self-sufficient. My heart knows that The Grass Is Greener syndrome hits us all and we imagine a better life lived somewhere else, when what we often need is to be content where we are. I read these verses today and felt convicted about this dissatisfaction of mine.

Thus says the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel, to all who were carried away captive, whom I have caused to be carried away from Jerusalem to Babylon: "Build houses and dwell in them; plant gardens and eat their fruit. Take wives and beget sons and daughters; and take wives for your sons and give your daughters to husbands, so that they may bear sons and daughters--that you may be increased there, and not diminished. And seek the peace of the city where I have caused you to be carried away captive, and pray to the Lord for it; for in its peace you will have peace."

Jeremiah 29:4-7 NKVJ

Then, I was also reminded of, "He who is faithful in what is least is faithful also in much..." (Luke 16:10a NKJV)

I am to be faithful in my little garden, my home, my family.

In other words, I am to bloom where I am planted.

The Myth of Socialization

My son and I are reading Ray Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451, about a time in the future where firemen start fires. People are forbidden to read books, so it is the firemen's job to burn any house that contains books. Although there are a few people who hide books and read and talk about them, most people are contentedly busy entertaining themselves with various distractions similar to those of today: sports, radio, TV, movies, amusement parks, etc.

The main character, a fireman, makes the acquaintance of a seventeen-year-old neighbor girl who opens his eyes to new ways (actually old ways) of thinking about the world. When she speaks about why she doesn't attend school, you can't help but think it's a compelling argument for home schooling.

"Oh, they don't miss me," she said. "I'm antisocial, they say. I don't mix. It's so strange. I'm very social indeed. It all depends on what you mean by social, doesn't it? Social to me means talking to you about things like this...Or talking about how strange the world is. Being with people is nice. But I don't think it's social to get a bunch of people together and then not let them talk, do you? ...we [students] never ask questions, or at least most don't; they just run the answers at you, bing, bing, bing, and us sitting there for four more hours of film teacher. That's not social to me at all. It's a lot of funnels and a lot of water poured down the spout and out the bottom, and them telling us it's wine when it's not."

Give Thanks

Oh, give thanks to the Lord!
Call upon His name;
Make known His deeds among the peoples!
Sing to Him, sing psalms to Him;
Talk of all His wondrous works!
Glory in His holy name;
Let the hearts of those rejoice who seek the Lord!
Seek the Lord and His strength;
Seek His face evermore!
Psalm 105:1-4

The View From Our Schoolroom Window--Part 2

Here's the latest in technology at our local government schools. Paid for by our tax dollars, of course.

This year, three schools in our district have a new machine that reads the magnetic strip on one's driver's license. (I didn't realize we HAD such a thing on our licenses until I just looked.) Every visitor that enters the building must have their license scanned to check for prior criminal status, including that of being a registered child, you-know-what offender. If the person passes muster, they receive a visitor badge, complete with a photo of themselves, their name, and the room to which they are going.

We've got a way to keep criminals out of our school, too. It's called a discerning mommy, a locked security door, and a dog.

The View From Our Schoolroom Window

Today was the first day of school for the neighborhood government elementary school, and as is usually the custom, many parents escorted their children to their classrooms. Living 1/2 block from the school, our street ends up as an overflow parking spot.

Our little schoolroom overlooks our front yard and the street. This morning we had an SUV parked out front as parents walked their children to school. I was getting ready for our own school day and saw a young couple standing by the vehicle about ten minutes after the school's tardy bells had rung. They were hugging and the male appeared to be consoling the female.

Now, those are the facts. What I can only conjecture, but believe to be true, is that this woman was distressed over taking her child to school. Perhaps it is her child's first day of kindergarten. Perhaps she has accepted as "normal" that you take your child to school when they are five.

But what her heart told her was something quite different entirely. Leaving your five year old child in a large brick building with a stranger and lots of other little strangers isn't normal at all.

"Lead On, O King Eternal"

I had to come to church late this morning, arriving in time for communion and the final hymn. Then I planned to attend the next service to hear the sermon, thus completing the circle. So I sang this hymn at the first service, not knowing yet that our priest had announced at the close of the sermon that he, the church staff, and the entire vestry have all resigned, effective October 1. It looks like our parish is headed for some major changes, to say the least.

I'm excited about what the future will bring. I'm thankful that our church leadership is saying that they don't want to be associated with the Episcopal church anymore.

May God be glorified!

"Lead On, O King Eternal"

Lead on, O King eternal,
The day of march has come;
Henceforth in fields of conquest
Thy tents shall be our home.
Through days of preparation
Thy grace has made us strong;
And now, O King eternal,
We lift our battle song.

Lead on, O King eternal,
Till sin’s fierce war shall cease,
And holiness shall whisper
The sweet amen of peace.
For not with swords’ loud clashing,
Nor roll of stirring drums;
With deeds of love and mercy
The heavenly kingdom comes.

Lead on, O King eternal,
We follow, not with fears,
For gladness breaks like morning
Where’er Thy face appears.
Thy cross is lifted over us,
We journey in its light;
The crown awaits the conquest;
lead on, O God of might!

Note: The author of this morning's recessional hymn, Ernest Shurtleff (1862-1917), (pictured above) wrote it when he was only 26. It was sung at his graduation ceremony from theological seminary in 1888. Quite an accomplishment, I must say.

Thank You, Lord!

Last week my mom met my son and I at a lake near her place. My mom and I walked around the lake, sat in camp chairs I toted along, and watched the sunset while my son fished on the opposite shore.

Our son has been wanting to catch a carp for a couple of years. He's been trying very earnestly at this particular lake several times this summer. Well, he finally caught one! You should have seen his face when he brought that carp to me. He walked halfway around the lake just to proudly show it off. Then he gently rocked the fish in the water to send it back into its home.

What a view! My contented (and appreciative) mom, the lake, the trees, the mountains, the sunset, and a beaming thirteen-year-old angler.

Simple pleasures.

Thank you, Lord.

(photo taken at the lake in a previous autumn)

Ora et Labora-Part 4

Lately I've been writing about a Benedictine Abbey I've been privileged to visit for personal retreats. So, just who was Benedict?

Benedict was born in Italy around 480. A Benedictine nun who wrote Wisdom Distilled From the Daily, states,

"He went to school in Rome when the Empire was in a state of material prosperity but moral decline... He decided that life lived in that fashion was not the fullness of life at all. He left Rome and went to a rural area south of the city to contemplate the meaning of life, to simplify its demands, and to refashion his own attitudes and life-style.

"It wasn't long until he was sought after by multitudes of other people who were also uneasy with the secular climate of the day but unsure as well of what ought to be its spiritual character. Out of this came what we know today as Western monasticism, the pursuit of the spiritual life in community, rather than in the secluded cells of the solitaries, which was the form of religious life that had been prevalent in the deserts of Egypt and in the East... As time passed, Benedictine monasteries became the anchor points and centerpieces of whole villages in Europe. From the monastics... the people learned to live and to work and to pray. As a result, the Benedictine Order has often been credited with having saved Western Europe after the barbarian invasions, and Benedict himself was named the patron of Europe."

From this brief history of Benedict and his time, I see many parallels to today's Christian agrarian movement. America is certainly in a state of seemingly material prosperity, coupled with extreme moral decline. Many agrarians are pursuing a spiritual life in community. Sometimes the community is an actual geographic place where several like-minded families settle to farm and worship. Sometimes it is a community that exists in cyberspace. Nonetheless, people are leaving the secluded cells of the solitaries to become part of this new spiritual community. These secluded cells range from cubicles in corporate America to postage stamp sized suburban backyards fenced in by six foot tall privacy fences. Some folks are instead tangling with barbed wire fences and modest farmhouses situated on a few acres they can call their own.

While an agrarian lifestyle doesn't work for everyone, I am impressed with the ingenuity, hard work, honest convictions, desire to please God, and committment to providing for future generations that I see in the agrarian blogs I read. My maternal grandfather passed down to me a love of gardening and an appreciation of God's creation. If I never get my farm, may I pass along to my children the desire to pursue a more agrarian lifestyle.

Waiting Patiently for the Lord

My husband took our dog, Lady, on a walk early this morning and as is his custom, let her go off her leash in a huge field. It was still dark, and when a jogger spooked our dog, she bolted. After searching frantically, my very dejected husband came home alone. By now, it was light, so I went out in the car, while our son took off on his bicycle. Separately, we combed the area and prayed. I came home to wake our daughter when my husband left for work. She cried and prayed while we searched together.

About an hour and 45 minutes after Lady was lost, our son found her sitting under a tree in a large open area. The spot was one I had driven past, and our son had ridden by twice. Lady hadn't been there before, but here she was, sitting patiently close to a little road, where we could see her. Aside from being hot, tired, and thirsty, Lady was so happy to see us. God was gracious.

It was when our dog sat still and waited that we finally found her. Sometimes that's what we need to do with our Lord. We need to quit being so busy and stop constantly running around. We need to wait patiently for the Lord. It's not that He can't find us, for of course He always knows where we are. But until we sit and listen and wait, we won't know He's there calling our name. Eager to draw us back to Himself. Ready to take us home.

I wait for the Lord, my soul waits,
And in His word I do hope.
Psalm 130:5 (NKJV)

(Until we have a working digital camera, this photo of someone else's dog will have to suffice. Of course, our dog's cuter!)

In God's Hands

My husband and I were not Christians when we married, but the Lord in His mercy, drew us both to Himself. Not having Christian friends or family for guidance, we hunted around for almost ten years to find a good church. We joined a PCUSA, then Baptist, and then Evangelical Free. It wasn't until we "happened" upon Reformed theology and discovered a little PCA church that we knew we had found our niche.

We were at our church for about 11 years, and grew tremendously in our faith. It felt like our world came crashing down when the church disbanded (long story--aren't they all?). We miss so many things about that church and have never found anything that matches it. But a little over a year ago we started attending an Episcopal church all because it had an organ and I couldn't bear to sing insipid praises songs for Easter. This particular Episcopal church had very similar liturgy, weekly communion with wine, which our children were allowed to take, and we sang hymns. The teaching wasn't as deep as our old church, but it was Biblical and practical. We disagreed with major points of theology within the Episcopal church at large, but this church seemed to be full of many God-fearing, Bible-believing Christians. We decided to stick around, knowing that ensuing turbulence was sure to come.

Well, it has struck. I suspect that our vestry is soon going to recommend totally breaking away from The Episcopal Church. Some of the old-timers feel like the rug has been pulled out from under them. A few others are playing the role of ostriches, and don't want to deal with the apostasy within The Episcopal Church's leadership. I pray that such a breaking away will glorify God.

One of the old-timers said at a meeting last week, "We're in the Bishop's hands now."

Our rector replied, "No, we're in God's hands. God's calling us to faithfulness."

Isn't it comforting to know we're always in God's hands?

The steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord.
And He delights in his way.
Though he fall, he shall not be utterly cast down;
For the Lord upholds him with His hand.

Psalm 37:23-24 (NKJV)

Buy Locally

I picked up a box of Clementines on sale today at the store. When I read the fine print and saw they were from Chile, I said, out loud, "Nope. I'm buyin' local," and put them back. "I'm stickin' with the peaches!" The fresh Colorado peaches taste great this time of year.

We don't need every exotic food known to man available to us every day of the year. More of us need to stop buying food shipped in from overseas. (The tainted dog food from China should be sufficient as a wake up call!)

If, like us, you lack enough garden space to provide much food for yourselves; then if you can't GROW locally, at least BUY locally.

Ora et Labora-Part 3

I got to go to the Abbey again last week with a dear friend.

I started keeping a journal of Abbey visits when I went two years ago. Some of the same words crop up in my thoughts from visit to visit: peaceful, calm, serene, worshipful, simplicity, sense of purpose.

In addition, this time I was struck by the contrasts present at the Abbey:

Work and Prayer
Same and Unique
Order and Freedom


It seems that the very things that one would mistakenly think would constrict the sisters, actually serve to free them. One might think that work and prayer would interfere with one another, but the two together form a perfect balance and serve to enhance each other.

The sisters may look similar when wearing their habits. But, because of their "uniform," you don't notice who is skinny, who is heavier, who has new clothes, etc. You look at their faces, where you see joy instead of stress.

They have the same schedule every weekday, but it appears to free them instead of restrict them. They are more in tune with the seasons because of their farm work. They all have such a sense of purpose, not just for their own community, but for all of those who come to the Abbey for retreats.


Two years ago I wrote in my Abbey journal:
The Abbey creates a haven for me--a place I love to be. A place that nurtures. A place that comforts you the minute you walk in. A place that comforts you when you merely think about it. A place that you think of when you're away. A place that you want to return to. A place that makes you want to be more like the sisters: purposeful, reverent, unhurried, loving, diligent.

As I reflect on this, I realize that my duty is to create a similar haven for my family in our home. It's a tall order, but it should be what drives my decision making, my every action, my daily prayer.

Lord, help me to make a haven for my family in our home.

Prayer

This prayer was in The Divine Hours, which I am using in my devotional time. The Concluding Prayer for the Midday Office was powerful enough that I wanted to share it.

O Lord my God, to You and Your service I devote myself, body, soul, and spirit.

Fill my memory with the record of Your mighty works; enlighten my understanding with the light of Your Holy Spirit; and make all the desires of my heart and will center in what You would have me do.

Make me an instrument of Your salvation for the people entrusted to my care, and let me by my life and speaking set forth Your true and living Word. Be always with me in carrying out the duties of my vocation; in praises heighten my love and gratitude; in speaking of You give me readiness of thought and expression; and grant that, by the clearness and brightness of Your holy Word, all the world may be drawn to Your blessed kingdom.

All this I ask for the sake of Your Son my Savior Jesus Christ.

Amen.

"God, My King"

Our processional hymn this morning was new to me. Go here to listen to the melody and read the interesting biographies of the authors of this hymn.

God, My King

God, my King, Thy might confessing,
Ever will I bless Thy Name;
Day by day Thy throne addressing,
Still will I Thy praise proclaim.

Honor great our God befitteth;
Who His majesty can reach?
Age to age His works transmitteth,
Age to age His power shall teach.

They shall talk of all Thy glory,
On Thy might and greatness dwell,
Speak of Thy dread acts the story,
And Thy deeds of wonder tell.

Nor shall fail from memory’s treasure
Works by love and mercy wrought;
Works of love surpassing measure,
Works of mercy passing thought.

Full of kindness and compassion,
Slow to anger, vast in love,
God is good to all creation;
All His works His goodness prove.

All Thy works, O Lord, shall bless Thee;
Thee shall all Thy saints adore:
King supreme shall they confess Thee,
And proclaim Thy sovereign power.

Foxes-Part 2

In keeping with my thoughts about just passing through this world, we heard this encouraging scripture this morning at church.



These all [Abel, Enoch, Noah, Abraham, Sarah] died in faith, not having received the promises, but having seen them afar off were assured of them, embraced them and confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth. For those who say such things declare plainly that they seek a homeland... They desire a better, that is, a heavenly country. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for He has prepared a city for them.

Hebrews 11: 13-16


(detail of "The New Jerusalem" from a tapestry in a French castle)

Foxes Have Their Holes

I had the privilege of taking our dog for a long walk recently. The air was slightly humid (by Colorado standards), the sun was shaded somewhat by scanty cloud cover and there were droplets still clinging to some of the grasses from the previous night's much-needed rain.

About half-way through a field, I spied a prairie dog hole close to the path. Now, I know prairie dogs don't have the same romantic appeal as foxes, but I was reminded of Jesus's comment, "Foxes have holes and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay His head." (Matthew 8:20 and Luke 9:58)

This verse reminds us that Jesus was always on the move, teaching and healing. In the margins of my Bible I copied someone's wisdom: "Deprived of provisions in the natural world (Matthew 8:20), Jesus is revealed as nature's Lord (Matthew 8:26)."

On my walk I was also struck by the temporary nature of Christ's time on earth. In terms of importance, there has been no other more necessary or important Person who walked the face of this earth. But, when thinking of actual time spent here, in light of eternity, He was here for just a blip of time. In light of eternity,OUR time here on earth is but a blip as well.

How do we spend that blip? We're just passing through. Yet, we're supposed to obey God, glorify Him, serve Him and His people, minister to others, etc. A fox hole can be a useful thing from which to fight a battle, spiritual or otherwise. But a fox hole that ties us down and doesn't allow us to roam freely, going WHERE we are sent, WHEN we are sent becomes a burden instead.

May we not get too bogged down in our fox holes that we don't see the service we can render to our brothers, our sisters, and our Heavenly Father.

"Miss Potter"

This hardly qualifies as a movie review, but I wanted to get my two cents worth in here. My family and I recently watched the film, "Miss Potter," now out on DVD.

What a delightful movie about the life of Beatrix Potter, author of "The Tale of Peter Rabbit," and other books. There was beautiful scenery of the English countryside. A rarity in today's movies, the love interests were very tastefully handled.

We have had the added bonus of rereading some of our family's favorite Beatrix Potter stories over the past week.

It wasn't a flawless movie, but it's certainly entertaining, and wholesome for the entire family. I recommend it.

Just for fun...Puns

Here are a few favorites from a bunch of puns my daughter forwarded to me.



* A chicken crossing the road: poultry in motion.


* Show me a piano falling down a mine shaft and I'll show you A flat miner.


* In a democracy it's your vote that counts. In feudalism, it's your Count that votes.


And the one that made me laugh out loud...


* A grenade fell onto a kitchen floor in France, and resulted in
Linoleum Blownapart.

Ora et Labora Part 2

In a recent post I wrote about my visit to a Benedictine Abbey to help the sisters pull weeds. Most of the visit included work, so I gained insights quite different from when I normally go there for personal renewal and prayer.

Benefits of 'Pray and Work'
First, the concept of pray and work is quite powerful when repeated throughout the day. During our before-lunch weed pulling, I was "on a roll" and didn't want to stop. If I had been doing this on my own, and didn't have a scheduled prayer service looming, I would have kept yanking those weeds. Invariably, I would have gone on too long, and missed any prayer time if I were calling the shots. Instead, we all stopped and gathered in the chapel for the service. We then refueled ourselves over lunch before going back to the weeds. Our afternoon session of pulling was quite profitable. We found whole patches of weeds and pulled many more than we had in the morning. The time of prayer, fueling our bodies, and visiting over lunch, all gave us renewed vigor to attack the task at hand.

Time Management
Second, knowing that you have a limited time changes your outlook on your work. You work harder and smarter during the time you DO have. You don't waste the time.

Take Time to Listen and Talk
Third, I noticed that the sisters were able to make you feel like they had all the time in the world to talk while we worked. Although they are very purposeful in their work, they don't rush around in a frenzy, ignoring people who visit the Abbey.

The sisters have the ability to work hard, set aside time to pray and praise God, and give people their time. What a wonderful combination of traits that we would do well to emulate.

I just read this Bible verse, and decided it applied to the sisters, too.

In everything that [Hezekiah] undertook in the service of God's temple and in obedience to the law and the commands, he sought his God and worked wholeheartedly. And so he prospered.
2 Chronicles 31: 21

(I got the above photo from the Abbey website. It really is beautiful there!)

"Praise to the Lord"

What a blessing to sing a hymn again! Yesterday we had a very good family retreat at our church. The teaching, full of wisdom, was provided by Bishop Hultstrand. (He's not the Bishop of Colorado, but a personal friend of our rector.) But, for me, the low point of the day was singing praise songs preceeding every teaching session. I was reminded yet again how much I detest them.

This morning, we began our worship with this hymn. Its author, Joachim Neander (1650-1680), wrote it in 1680 shortly before he died of tuberculosis or the plague. It was translated from the original German into English in 1863 by Catherine Winkworth (1827-1878), who is responsible for bringing many German hymns to the English speaking world.


"Praise to the Lord"

Praise to the Lord, the Almighty, the King of creation!
O my soul, praise Him, for He is thy health and salvation!
All ye who hear, now to His temple draw near;
Praise Him in glad adoration.

Praise to the Lord, who over all things so wondrously reigneth,
Shelters thee under His wings, yea, so gently sustaineth!
Hast thou not seen how thy desires ever have been
Granted in what He ordaineth?

Praise to the Lord, who hath fearfully, wondrously, made thee;
Health hath vouchsafed and, when heedlessly falling, hath stayed thee.
What need or grief ever hath failed of relief?
Wings of His mercy did shade thee.

Praise to the Lord, who doth prosper thy work and defend thee;
Surely His goodness and mercy here daily attend thee.
Ponder anew what the Almighty can do,
If with His love He befriend thee.

Praise to the Lord, who, when tempests their warfare are waging,
Who, when the elements madly around thee are raging,
Biddeth them cease, turneth their fury to peace,
Whirlwinds and waters assuaging.

Praise to the Lord, who, when darkness of sin is abounding,
Who, when the godless do triumph, all virtue confounding,
Sheddeth His light, chaseth the horrors of night,
Saints with His mercy surrounding.

Praise to the Lord, O let all that is in me adore Him!
All that hath life and breath, come now with praises before Him.
Let the Amen sound from His people again,
Gladly for aye we adore Him.

(stained glass window from Holy Trinity Church, Crosshaven, Ireland)

Jesus as Redeemer

Wouldn't you know, I read this right after I was thinking something not very nice about someone this morning. God always knows what we need to hear.


Excerpts from Oswald Chambers' devotional for today:

The characteristic of a disciple is not that he does good things, but that he is good in motive because he has been made good by the supernatural grace of God. The only thing that exceeds right-doing is right-being.

Jesus says--If you are My disciple you must be right not only in your living, but in your motives, in your dreams, in the recesses of your mind. You must be so pure in your motives that God Almighty can see nothing to censure.

Who can stand in the Eternal Light of God and have nothing for God to censure? Only the Son of God, and Jesus Christ claims that by His Redemption He can put into any man His own disposition, and make him as unsullied and as simple as a child.

Dear Lord, reach into the depths of my soul. Clean out those feelings of ill-will that like to hide in there and multiply. Replace them with Christ-like thinking, behavior, and compassion.

Jesus as Teacher

Oswald Chambers' teaching was compiled by his wife in the devotional, My Utmost for His Highest. His lesson for today (excerpted below) is based upon Matthew 5:3, "Blessed are the poor in spirit." Chambers talks about the fallacy of looking at Jesus only as Teacher. May my family members who believe Jesus was only a great teacher be drawn to the truth.

"Beware of placing Our Lord as a Teacher first. If Jesus Christ is a Teacher only, then all He can do is to tantalize me by erecting a standard I cannot attain. What is the use of presenting me with an ideal I cannot possibly come near? I am happier without knowing it. What is the good of telling me to be what I never can be--to be pure in heart, to do more than my duty, to be perfectly devoted to God? I must know Jesus Christ as Saviour before His teaching has any meaning for me other than that of an ideal which leads to despair. But when I am born again of the Spirit of God, I know that Jesus Christ did not come to teach only: He came to make me what He teaches I should be. The Redemption means that Jesus Christ can put into any man the disposition that ruled His own life, and all the standards God gives are based on that disposition."

Ora et Labora

Pray and work.

St. Benedict coined this phrase as a motto of sorts when establishing his religious order. Ora et Labora was one of the first sayings the kids and I learned when we started Latin.

This photo shows a Benedictine Abbey in northern Colorado, near the Wyoming border. I went once with a group of women from my old church, and then two more times for a private retreat. I took my Bible, a hymnal, a journal, and some good walking shoes. I attended the services and spent time alone in prayer, singing, and reading. Going there is always such a boost to my mental and spiritual state.

A few Saturdays ago, I went again. This time I got to do more Labora than Ora. The sisters are trying to eradicate a noxious weed [Toadflax], and had a "Weed and Pray" day. A handful of us pulled weeds, attended the Sext service right before lunch and weeded some more.

While pulling the weeds I got to thinking. Toadflax was brought to this country as an ornamental plant. Unfortunately, it soon spread to the wild and began overtaking native plants. Isn't this just like sin? It creeps into our lives, sometimes even disguised as something pretty, but it quickly overtakes us and forces its way into all areas of our lives, pushing out necessary things.

The sisters and their helpers must pull each weed one by one in order to keep it from spreading to the hay field. After about a dozen years of diligent work they hope to have it gone from their land.

Are we as willing to diligently purge sin from our lives, weed by weed?

"O Day of Rest and Gladness"

It's been a bit busy around here. Birthdays. Family visiting. Gardening. Life.

This was our processional hymn today. Inspiring words. Cool alto part.

"O Day of Rest and Gladness"

O day of rest and gladness,
O day of joy and light,
O balm of care and sadness,
most beautiful, most bright;
on thee the high and lowly,
before the eternal throne,
sing, "Holy, holy, holy,"
to the great Three in One.

On thee, at the creation,
the light first had its birth;
on thee for our salvation
Christ rose from depths of earth;
On thee our Lord victorious
the Spirit sent from heaven,
and thus on thee most glorious
a triple light was given.

Thou art a port protected
from storms that round us rise;
a garden intersected
with streams of paradise;
thou art a cooling fountain
in life's dry dreary sand;
from thee, like Pisgah's mountain,
we view our promised land.

Today on weary nations
the heavenly manna falls;
to holy convocations
the silver trumpet calls,
where Gospel light is glowing
with pure and radiant beams,
and living water flowing,
with soul refreshing streams.

May we, new graces gaining
from this our day of rest,
attain the rest remaining
to spirits of the blessed.
And their our voices raising,
to Father, Spirit, Son,
for evermore be praising
the blessèd Three in One.

Independence Day

And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes and our sacred Honor.


Great days never exist alone. There are important events preceeding and following such great days. Consider our country's birthday. Britain's Parliament passed the Stamp Act in 1765, angering the colonists. British troops shot and killed five civilians in Boston in 1770. The actual war began in April of 1775 when colonists took up arms against British troops trying to seize the supplies of the Massachusetts militia. On July 4, 1776, the Second Continental Congress adopted the Declaration of Independence, forming the United States of America. The Americans defeated the British at the Battle of Yorktown in Virginia in 1781. Finally, the Americans and British signed the Treaty of Paris in 1783, 18 years after the Stamp Act.

We would do well to learn from our Founding Fathers. Aside from the Bible, the Declaration of Independence is one of the most inspired texts ever put to paper. In wisdom, and using restraint, they tried to address their grievances without bloodshed and within the confines of the existing ties to Britain. But when provoked, attacked, and ignored, they fought back when necessary. Although up against a more powerful and much larger army, the American troops were victorious in the end.

When we are faced with unfair opposition in our individual lives, we should declare independence from those who would seek to oppress us. As the Declaration states, we should appeal to the Supreme Judge of the world. We can stand firm in our faith, rely on God, and resist the attacks of those who don't understand or agree with us. We can turn the other cheek while also aligning ourselves with those who will uphold us through trials.

Children and Answered Prayer

It is amazing how God graciously answers the prayers of our children.

This evening, we all took our dog, Lady, to the dog park. Our daughter was lamenting the fact that some of her favorite dogs weren't there for her to play with. So, I boldly prayed with her that God would bring one of them to the dog park within five minutes. She added that she wanted to see Belle and Strider the most. Within less than two minutes, Belle and Strider showed up!

Now, in light of eternity, a little girl's wish for two dogs to play with doesn't seem very important.

But, a few hours later, while putting our daughter to bed, she became sad about her birth mother [a recurring thing these days]. Usually, when I ask if we could pray for her birth mother, our daughter gets upset. But tonight, she agreed. Since her birth mother probably wakes up shortly after our daughter goes to bed [time zone difference], together we prayed for her birth mother to have a good day. We prayed that she would become a Christian if she isn't already. Then, our daughter prayed that her birth mother would want to talk to her when we find her [a search that we won't be able to institute for another 7 1/2 years].

Now, I know He's not Santa Claus, and His ways are not always our ways. But, if God can make two dogs show up at the dog park, can't He make a birth mother want to meet her birth daughter?

Another Reason Why We Home School

Fifty Years of Math 1957 - 2007

Last week I purchased a burger at Burger King for $1.58. The counter girl took my $2 and I was digging for my change when I pulled 8 cents from my pocket and gave it to her. She stood there, holding
the nickel and 3 pennies, while looking at the screen on her register. I sensed her discomfort and tried to tell her to just give me two quarters, but she hailed the manager for help. While he tried to explain the transaction to her, she stood there and cried. Why do I tell you this?

Because of the evolution in teaching math since the
1950s:

1. Teaching Math In 1950s

A logger sells a truckload of lumber for $100. His cost of production is
4/5 of the price. What is his profit ?

2. Teaching Math In 1960s

A logger sells a truckload of lumber for $100 His cost of production is 4/5
of the price, or $80. What is his profit?

3. Teaching Math In 1970s

A logger sells a truckload of lumber for $100. His cost of production is
$80. Did he make a profit?

4. Teaching Math In 1980s

A logger sells a truckload of lumber for $100. His cost of production is
$80 and his profit is $20. Your assignment: Underline the number 20.

5. Teaching Math In 1990s

A logger cuts down a beautiful forest because he is selfish and
inconsiderate and cares nothing for the habitat of animals or the
preservation of our woodlands. He does this so he can make a profit of $20.
What do you think of this way of making a living? Topic for class
participation after answering the question: How did the birds and squirrels
feel as the logger cut down their homes? (There are no wrong answers, and
if you feel like crying, it's OK. )

6. Teaching Math In 2007

Un hachero vende una carretada de maderapara $100.
El costo de la producciones es $80. Cuanto dinero ha hecho?

Have a GREAT day!!


[This was sent to me by my cousin, John, and I found the truth and irony compelling enough to share it in my blog.
The photo is the cover of the 1857 Ray's Arithmetic.]

"Praise My Soul"

This was our processional hymn in church yesterday. What words of wisdom are tucked away in this hymn! I know that long posts can become tedious, so I'll just share a few nuggets. Go here to read all five stanzas and listen to the music.






Praise, my soul, the King of Heaven;
To His feet thy tribute bring.
Ransomed, healed, restored, forgiven,
Evermore His praises sing:
Alleluia! Alleluia!
Praise the everlasting King.

The third line of the first stanza gives us enough to ponder for an entire lifetime. We are ransomed, healed, restored, and forgiven. Rereading those four words helped me to more fully grasp their weight.

Verse two tells us that He is slow to chide, and swift to bless.
Oh, that we could always be like that with our children. How easy it is to be swift to chide and slow to bless.

Lord, help me to truly grasp what You have done in my life. Give me the wisdom and strength to forgive others as I have been forgiven.

Real Work for Sons--part 2

A few weeks ago our son made a blow dart gun out of a broken fishing rod. He made darts out of wooden shish-kabob skewers and craft foam. He's been out in the backyard shooting homemade cardboard targets and even taught his little sister how to do it.

The other day he purchased some one inch diameter PVC pipe, cut it to size, wrapped it with camoflage duct tape, and added a PVC "mouthpiece." He then spent the better part of the afternoon in the backyard shooting at just about anything he could get his hands on, including an old potato.

We watched him, intently shooting. "It's natural that he wants to shoot at things," my husband said. "Yes," I replied. "He's ready to help defend the family."

And here we sit in suburbia. In a neighborhood of tract houses, across the street from a government school that we've never used.

Lord, I know each part of 'the body' has its place. Help us to learn where we fit. Help us to be obedient. Help us to be content.

Theses on Worship-Part 9

Notes from Jim Jordan's book, Theses on Worship...

Thesis 13
Worship Comes in a Context of Death

The title of Thesis #13 may be a little off-putting, but read some of what Jordan has to say:

"...death comes in many ways: the loss of a loved one, the loss of a job, or the loss of a dream; a pregnant teenager; a son with AIDS; a philandering spouse; a fearful sickness; a spell of depression; a bitter and sarcastic mate; a dark night of the soul. Psychological techniques may give 'fast, temporary relief' to some of these things, but in fact all are forms of death. It is the pastoral ministry of the Church and only the Church that can deal with the fact of death."

"The gospel is real good news for real people hurting in real life situations. That is why modern gospel songs are so inadequate. They present a 'happy gospel' without the context of pain, enemies, and death. Advertising-jingle music just does not make the grade.

"The effect of this kind of worship is that it isolates worship from life instead of transforming life into worship."

(To read previous posts on Jordan's book, click on "worship" below.)

"Breathe on Me, Breath of God"

I always thought this hymn was written recently because of its simplicity, but its author was Englishman Edwin Hatch (1835-1889).

Biographers have written:

"Hatch was a man of deep piety and simplicity of spirit..."

"Hatch was an esteemed member of the Oxford University faculty, ... but when it came to expressing his faith in ways that would speak to the ordinary person, nobody has done it better than Edwin Hatch did..."

"Dr. Hatch was widely known for his scholarship and lectures in early church history. Despite his scholarly attainments, Hatch was said to have possessed a faith as 'simple and unaffected as a child's.'"

Towards the end of his life, Hatch was the rector in Purleigh, England(pictured above).


"Breathe on Me, Breath of God"


Breathe on me, breath of God,
Fill me with life anew,
That I may love what Thou dost love,
And do what Thou wouldst do.

Breathe on me, breath of God,
Until my heart is pure,
Until with Thee I will one will,
To do and to endure.

Breathe on me, breath of God,
Blend all my soul with Thine,
Until this earthly part of me
Glows with Thy fire divine.

Breathe on me, breath of God,
So shall I never die,
But live with Thee the perfect life
Of Thine eternity.