Our hero was our father. Then our hero was the policeman or firefighter or teacher. We had neighborhood heros that all the kids and some of the adults looked up to. They were a hero because they did amazing things.
As a child a father was the protector who always caught us before we fell. We could depend upon him to always be there. He was larger than life itself. He taught us things about bugs and why sky is blue. He helped us with homework and took us to the zoo and told us about the animals.
He taught us to fly a kite, to ride a bicycle, to ice skate, to bowl and play cards. He taught us that there was someone who we could depend upon when all else fails.
Then he left. Our hero was a grandfather, an uncle or a neighbor. Sometimes it was even Mom when she had time to be with us after working some menial job to put food on the table and clothes on our backs.
We moved around and our hero was a character in a book or someone in history.
History was changed and we found out that the hero owned slaves or polluted the planet or had children out of wedlock.
Our hero was a sports' figure and he used steroids or gambled on the game or beat his pregnant girlfriend.
Our hero was a rock star until they overdosed. We found a new hero whose rap was banned because it glorified rape and killing policemen.
We emulated our hero and found the act of following was not satisfying. The idol worshiping was not the same as the doing. Our lives became filled with lost dreams and visions of a reality that did little more than torture us with their vagueness and we looked for another hero and when it was found the media ridiculed it and tore it down if they mentioned faith or belief in God. Goodness and faith is reviled while men having illicit affairs and destroying hotel rooms are held high with massive coverage on the evening news.
We need a new hero for the children. They need someone to uphold clean living and wholesome moral values. They need to know that there is someone they can depend on so when it comes time to know God, they have already had the experience of knowing what goodness is, of knowing The Messiah through the human representation of Him through that one He used and we knew as a hero.
We need to know that the children have someone other than a drunk, drug dealer, undressed rock star pulsating on stage or the pedophile next door to look up to and emulate. They need a Noah, a Joshua, a Jabez, a Boaz, an Esther, a David or a Paul in their life. They need a living Bible that they can point to and say, "I want to be just like that when I grow up."
We need to know that their eyes are upon us each and every day. They need a hero. They need to know there is goodness and mercy in the world. They need to know that God lives within us and is there to help us through the bad days and rejoice with us in the good times.
Friday, December 24, 2010
Tiny Tomato Follow-up
On November 25, 2010 I posted one called "Thankful for Tiny Tomatoes". About 2 days later I decided to clean up the flower beds and put some pine straw around the plants that were still alive.
I looked at the Cherry Tomato plant and saw about a hundred little green tomatoes on it. They had been protected from the freeze and were not damaged. I didn't have the heart to just throw them away. That would be wasteful. But what can you do with a hundred inch sized green tomatoes?
I could not think of anything but I remembered reading in a gardening book many years ago about how someone had pulled up a regular tomato plant and hung it upside down in their garage to harvest the tomatoes later.
Being the type to not want to do more than I have to and not wanting to dig in the dirt, I just grabbed the stem close to the dirt and pulled up the roots. I put it in a trash bag upside down and hung it in the spare bathtub. It hung there for a few days and I moved it to the laundry room. It has been a unique pleasure to go to the laundry room and check for more ripe tomatoes. The vine is pretty much dried out now and is only storage space for the remaining few green tomatoes. It is almost time to take it down and maybe start some new plants for the next season. The Lord has been abundantly gracious and Blessed us with more food to eat.
For three weeks it has been hanging over the dryer getting a bit of northern sun through the window and we have been harvesting tomatoes every few days.
I will miss them when they are gone, but it has been fun having them around.
Thank The Lord for all His Blessings.
I looked at the Cherry Tomato plant and saw about a hundred little green tomatoes on it. They had been protected from the freeze and were not damaged. I didn't have the heart to just throw them away. That would be wasteful. But what can you do with a hundred inch sized green tomatoes?I could not think of anything but I remembered reading in a gardening book many years ago about how someone had pulled up a regular tomato plant and hung it upside down in their garage to harvest the tomatoes later.
Being the type to not want to do more than I have to and not wanting to dig in the dirt, I just grabbed the stem close to the dirt and pulled up the roots. I put it in a trash bag upside down and hung it in the spare bathtub. It hung there for a few days and I moved it to the laundry room. It has been a unique pleasure to go to the laundry room and check for more ripe tomatoes. The vine is pretty much dried out now and is only storage space for the remaining few green tomatoes. It is almost time to take it down and maybe start some new plants for the next season. The Lord has been abundantly gracious and Blessed us with more food to eat.
For three weeks it has been hanging over the dryer getting a bit of northern sun through the window and we have been harvesting tomatoes every few days.I will miss them when they are gone, but it has been fun having them around.
Thank The Lord for all His Blessings.
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
One of America's Heros
At a time when people stay an average of less than seven years at one job location, it is amazing to know that one man stayed at his post for 66 years. In a day when youth is venerated and the older worker is discarded in favor of the "innovative" ways of the young, it was refreshing to note that the employer chose not to throw away a faithful worker thirty years prior to his retirement. It may even cause some to wonder, "Why is there mandatory retirement anyway?" It only serves to reinforce the idea that after a certain age, you are no longer useful to society.
It was a truly heartwarming story and it is worth passing on. He truly lived life to the fullest.
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Traditions of Men vs GOD
Teaching for Doctrines the Traditions of Men
Christmas
Easter
Tithing
Halloween
Missions
Birthdays
Thanksgiving
Feeding the poor
Sunday morning worship service
Clothing the poor
Wednesday evening prayer meeting
Sunday School
In the beginning was the Word, then we added to it and we took away from it and we made it convenient for ourselves. We call ourselves Christian. We are reborn through the finished Work of Christ on the Cross and somehow that is never enough. Instead of leaving the ways of the world behind we drag all our traditions and baggage with us. We pretend to turn our focus on the true "reason for the season" when in fact there is no Scriptural reason for much of what we do; for what we have woven into the simple Gospel, the stand-alone Word of God.
It starts with Sunday morning. Do we truly know why we worship on Sunday? Do we actually worship or do we listen to announcements, listen to the choir and plan our week while the preacher drones on?
We claim to celebrate the Resurrection of the Messiah on a holiday called Easter. Yet we feel we have to make it fun for the children with egg hunts and candy and other mess. We tell our children that the empty egg shell represents the empty tomb. We attend the sunrise service and we go home momentarily moved.
We hand over our donations on Sunday morning, maybe, if it is convenient. We repeat the story of the widow's mite given to The Lord in the temple while deducting the reasons for giving less than that ten percent.
There is trunk or treat and Christian themed costume parties in order to incorporate the world's addiction to Halloween parties.
We go on mission trips and give money to missions after much pleading from the sponsors of the trips ignoring the mission field in our own town.
The celebration of birthdays has become a yearly event where the old dog and pony show is dwarfed in comparison. We give no heed to what is mentioned in Scripture regarding birthday parties.
Thanksgiving. Giving thanks is what we should be doing daily but we set aside one day a year to gorge ourselves in the company of people we seldom see or talk to any other time of year.
The poor are only hungry twice a year on Thanksgiving and on Christmas. They are only unclothed and lacking in housing or furniture at this time of year.
Prayer meeting on Wednesday is no longer devoted to a time of prayer. There was too much silence to suit so they just have another meeting. It appears that true prayer meetings have lost their appeal.
We send our children to Sunday School because they need that instruction. Our lives are so busy that we cannot spend the time with them during the week to teach them Biblical Truth. Anyway, it is a time when they can socialize with other Christian children. If you believe that, you haven't taught Sunday School lately. Instead of studying for a lesson and preparing oneself for the class, we hand out insipid class activities from a prepackaged formula designed to follow the denominations' standards not necessarily the Biblical ones.
Following the Truth is so much richer than trying to hang on to tradition. Traditions are filled with falsehood and can be destroyed. The Truth, Biblical Truth is everlasting and cannot be undone. We warp and twist the truth in order to fit in, to feel more comfortable. We suppress and grieve the Holy Spirit with our rebellion.
He can give us so much more if we dispense with the trappings and open up to the Truth.
Read your Bible. Study HIS word. Leave off what you have always done and see what HE would have you to do. Study with your children. Let HIM start a revival within yourself, then your family. HE will grow it from there.
HIS WAY IS EVERLASTING. The ways of the world change with every breeze.
Christmas
Easter
Tithing
Halloween
Missions
Birthdays
Thanksgiving
Feeding the poor
Sunday morning worship service
Clothing the poor
Wednesday evening prayer meeting
Sunday School
In the beginning was the Word, then we added to it and we took away from it and we made it convenient for ourselves. We call ourselves Christian. We are reborn through the finished Work of Christ on the Cross and somehow that is never enough. Instead of leaving the ways of the world behind we drag all our traditions and baggage with us. We pretend to turn our focus on the true "reason for the season" when in fact there is no Scriptural reason for much of what we do; for what we have woven into the simple Gospel, the stand-alone Word of God.
It starts with Sunday morning. Do we truly know why we worship on Sunday? Do we actually worship or do we listen to announcements, listen to the choir and plan our week while the preacher drones on?
We claim to celebrate the Resurrection of the Messiah on a holiday called Easter. Yet we feel we have to make it fun for the children with egg hunts and candy and other mess. We tell our children that the empty egg shell represents the empty tomb. We attend the sunrise service and we go home momentarily moved.
We hand over our donations on Sunday morning, maybe, if it is convenient. We repeat the story of the widow's mite given to The Lord in the temple while deducting the reasons for giving less than that ten percent.
There is trunk or treat and Christian themed costume parties in order to incorporate the world's addiction to Halloween parties.
We go on mission trips and give money to missions after much pleading from the sponsors of the trips ignoring the mission field in our own town.
The celebration of birthdays has become a yearly event where the old dog and pony show is dwarfed in comparison. We give no heed to what is mentioned in Scripture regarding birthday parties.
Thanksgiving. Giving thanks is what we should be doing daily but we set aside one day a year to gorge ourselves in the company of people we seldom see or talk to any other time of year.
The poor are only hungry twice a year on Thanksgiving and on Christmas. They are only unclothed and lacking in housing or furniture at this time of year.
Prayer meeting on Wednesday is no longer devoted to a time of prayer. There was too much silence to suit so they just have another meeting. It appears that true prayer meetings have lost their appeal.
We send our children to Sunday School because they need that instruction. Our lives are so busy that we cannot spend the time with them during the week to teach them Biblical Truth. Anyway, it is a time when they can socialize with other Christian children. If you believe that, you haven't taught Sunday School lately. Instead of studying for a lesson and preparing oneself for the class, we hand out insipid class activities from a prepackaged formula designed to follow the denominations' standards not necessarily the Biblical ones.
Following the Truth is so much richer than trying to hang on to tradition. Traditions are filled with falsehood and can be destroyed. The Truth, Biblical Truth is everlasting and cannot be undone. We warp and twist the truth in order to fit in, to feel more comfortable. We suppress and grieve the Holy Spirit with our rebellion.
He can give us so much more if we dispense with the trappings and open up to the Truth.
Read your Bible. Study HIS word. Leave off what you have always done and see what HE would have you to do. Study with your children. Let HIM start a revival within yourself, then your family. HE will grow it from there.
HIS WAY IS EVERLASTING. The ways of the world change with every breeze.
Saturday, December 18, 2010
Yahweh Works in Strange and Mysterious Ways
It is often that we are lead to specific things in order to complete our learning in an area of our Bible Study.
The question, lingering within the deep recesses of my heart is asked. It is a silent question, one that is not fully living within my mind. A verse passes before me like a feather in the wind. While surfing through the myriad mish-mash of garbage channels, it stops momentarily where a preacher speaks about the silent question and a partial answer brushes across my heart like a lock of hair blown blown across my cheek by the summer breeze. It is noticed, but brushed aside.
A short time later the words jump off the page and are noticed just like a toe notices a chair leg in the middle of the night. Although it is ignored, it has become enough of a nuisance as to be remembered if only superficially. The Word of God has a subtle way of becoming one with me. It finally caresses my heart and soul as though it were a rediscovered love. It envelopes me with His love and His tenderness and reminds me that He is a jealous God who requires my allegiance, my undivided allegiance.
And that is when the fight begins. I have a bad habit of wanting to wander off the straight and narrow all the while professing my undying love and telling everyone that I am doing no such thing.
The reason and the only reason that I am miserable much of the time is that I know what is right. I know what I do in my rebellious spirit is wrong but I insist, just as the children of Israel did, on complaining and wallowing in my self pity, and whining about what I think I should have.
But He is merciful. He is steadfast and He is God. He is The Messiah. He is the Only One who deserves honor, praise and glory. That is precisely why His Name should NEVER be diminished or left out or in any way ignored. The first four of the Ten Commandments are devoted to HIM. That ought to tell us something.
It should come as no surprise that the body of Christ is self-destructing. We are becoming consumed with working longer hours on the job in order to do a better job, saving the planet, living green, feeding the homeless, building bigger houses, more playgrounds, writing letters to politicians about spending, protesting this and supporting that until our time has been taken up with worthy causes. And we are busy at church decorating for this, cooking for that, raising money for the children's trip, the women's retreat, the gift bags for the hospital, the teddy bears for the ambulance, the blankets for the homeless, the basketball ministries, the inter-faith softball teams, the clothing for the shelters, and the prison outreach and the Angel Trees and all the other things that were never mentioned in Scripture.
We are so busy being busy that women cannot stay home with their children and are chided if they do so. Women are encouraged to act like men and men are encouraged to show their feelings. We have weeping men on the screen and women being drunk and spewing profanity like it is something to be proud of.
Our government is replete with talking heads that spout out politically correct gobbledygook which we are digesting as gospel while the real Gospel of Christ lies on the shelf collecting dust.
Rape, murder, incest and other atrocities are on the rise while women dress like whores showing their breasts and their behinds all the while wondering why they get no respect from men. They wonder why their relationships are short and tawdry. Even many churches remain silent. The older women no longer teach the younger as they are afraid they may offend them by telling them what is right and what is wrong.
Men leave children across the nation like so many Pez popping out of a candy dispenser. Male children growing up with only mothers to guide them. Angry young men becoming fathers themselves perpetuating the misery and leaving their own sons behind unless God Himself intervenes. Young girls without a proper father's love finding it where she may.
So where do we start? How do we turn things around? Can we even make a difference? Has the world gon to far over the line for a Christian to even try?
We start with ourselves. Only God can turn things around. Each one of us can make a difference in ourselves and those around us with God's help. It matters not how far gone the world is. What matters now is whether or not we are still being used of God to do HIS will instead of whining about what we cannot do. For we can do nothing. It is God who works. We are only a tool to be used for His pleasure.
We cannot save the world nor the planet. We cannot even save ourselves. The Salvation of the world, the rebuilding of the planet is His job.
If that is true then what difference does it make if we worship Him on Saturday or on Sunday? It makes a HUGE difference if it means we are being disobedient and are expecting our prayers to be answered. It makes a difference if we say we follow Him and do not follow His commandments.
It all makes a difference. It has to. He would not have said it if it was not important. We just need to listen to HIS voice and not our own. Let the Holy Spirit lead you. Be quiet and listen to the still small voice of God. One note that I will make about the following information is that the Sacrifice of Christ did not "cancel the written code" HE fulfilled the law. It may just be semantics to some, but to me there is a distinct difference.
The following was passed on to me via email. It is a bit different than the other information I found earlier. I do not know who wrote this, but credit is given to a writing by Jason Meyer at the end. I pass it on to you as complete as it was given to me.
********************************************************
It is often claimed that “God instituted the Sabbath in Eden” because of the connection between the Sabbath and creation in Exodus 20:11. Although God's rest on the seventh day (Genesis 2:3) did foreshadow a future Sabbath law, there is no biblical record of the Sabbath before the children of Israel left the land of Egypt. Nowhere in Scripture is there any hint that Sabbath-keeping was practiced from Adam to Moses.
The Word of God makes it quite clear that Sabbath observance was a special sign between God and Israel: “The Israelites are to observe the Sabbath, celebrating it for the generations to come as a lasting covenant. It will be a sign between me and the Israelites forever, for in six days the Lord made the heavens and the earth, and on the seventh day he abstained from work and rested” (Exodus 31:16–17).
In Deuteronomy 5, Moses restates the Ten Commandments to the next generation of Israelites. Here, after commanding Sabbath observance in verses 12–14, Moses gives the reason the Sabbath was given to the nation Israel: “Remember that you were slaves in Egypt and that the Lord your God brought you out of there with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm. Therefore the Lord your God has commanded you to observe the Sabbath day” (Deuteronomy 5:15).
God's intent for giving the Sabbath to Israel was not that they would remember creation, but that they would remember their Egyptian slavery and the Lord's deliverance. Note the requirements for Sabbath-keeping: A person placed under that Sabbath law could not leave his home on the Sabbath (Exodus 16:29), he could not build a fire (Exodus 35:3), and he could not cause anyone else to work (Deuteronomy 5:14). A person breaking the Sabbath law was to be put to death (Exodus 31:15; Numbers 15:32–35).
An examination of New Testament passages shows us four important points: 1) Whenever Christ appears in His resurrected form and the day is mentioned, it is always the first day of the week (Matthew 28:1, 9, 10; Mark 16:9; Luke 24:1, 13, 15; John 20:19, 26). 2) The only time the Sabbath is mentioned from Acts through Revelation it is for evangelistic purposes to the Jews and the setting is usually in a synagogue (Acts chapters 13–18). Paul wrote, “to the Jews I became as a Jew, that I might win Jews” (1 Corinthians 9:20). Paul did not go to the synagogue to fellowship with and edify the saints, but to convict and save the lost. 3) Once Paul states “from now on I will go to the Gentiles” (Acts 18:6), the Sabbath is never again mentioned. And 4) instead of suggesting adherence to the Sabbath day, the remainder of the New Testament implies the opposite (including the one exception to point 3 above, found in Colossians 2:16).
Looking more closely at point 4 above will reveal that there is no obligation for the New Testament believer to keep the Sabbath, and will also show that the idea of a Sunday “Christian Sabbath” is also unscriptural. As discussed above, there is one time the Sabbath is mentioned after Paul began to focus on the Gentiles, “Therefore do not let anyone judge you by what you eat or drink, or with regard to a religious festival, a New Moon celebration or a Sabbath day. These are a shadow of the things that were to come; the reality, however, is found in Christ.” (Colossians 2:16–17). The Jewish Sabbath was abolished at the cross where Christ “canceled the written code, with its regulations” (Colossians 2:14).
This idea is repeated more than once in the New Testament: “One man considers one day more sacred than another; another man considers every day alike. Each one should be fully convinced in his own mind. He who regards one day as special, does so to the Lord” (Romans 14:5–6a). “But now that you know God — or rather are known by God — how is it that you are turning back to those weak and miserable principles? Do you wish to be enslaved by them all over again? You are observing special days and months and seasons and years” (Galatians 4:9–10).
But some claim that a mandate by Constantine in A.D. 321 “changed” the Sabbath from Saturday to Sunday. On what day did the early church meet for worship? Scripture never mentions any Sabbath (Saturday) gatherings by believers for fellowship or worship. However, there are clear passages that mention the first day of the week. For instance, Acts 20:7 states that “on the first day of the week we came together to break bread.” In 1 Corinthians 16:2 Paul urges the Corinthian believers “on the first day of every week, each one of you should set aside a sum of money in keeping with his income.” Since Paul designates this offering as “service” in 2 Corinthians 9:12, this collection must have been linked with the Sunday worship service of the Christian assembly. Historically Sunday, not Saturday, was the normal meeting day for Christians in the church, and its practice dates back to the first century.
The Sabbath was given to Israel, not the church. The Sabbath is still Saturday, not Sunday, and has never been changed. But the Sabbath is part of the Old Testament Law, and Christians are free from the bondage of the Law (Galatians 4:1-26; Romans 6:14). Sabbath keeping is not required of the Christian—be it Saturday or Sunday. The first day of the week, Sunday, the Lord's Day (Revelation 1:10) celebrates the New Creation, with Christ as our resurrected Head. We are not obligated to follow the Mosaic Sabbath—resting, but are now free to follow the risen Christ—serving. The Apostle Paul said that each individual Christian should decide whether to observe a Sabbath rest, “One man considers one day more sacred than another; another man considers every day alike. Each one should be fully convinced in his own mind” (Romans 14:5). We are to worship God every day, not just on Saturday or Sunday.
Recommended Resource: The End of the Law: Mosaic Covenant in Pauline Theology by Jason Meyer.
The question, lingering within the deep recesses of my heart is asked. It is a silent question, one that is not fully living within my mind. A verse passes before me like a feather in the wind. While surfing through the myriad mish-mash of garbage channels, it stops momentarily where a preacher speaks about the silent question and a partial answer brushes across my heart like a lock of hair blown blown across my cheek by the summer breeze. It is noticed, but brushed aside.
A short time later the words jump off the page and are noticed just like a toe notices a chair leg in the middle of the night. Although it is ignored, it has become enough of a nuisance as to be remembered if only superficially. The Word of God has a subtle way of becoming one with me. It finally caresses my heart and soul as though it were a rediscovered love. It envelopes me with His love and His tenderness and reminds me that He is a jealous God who requires my allegiance, my undivided allegiance.
And that is when the fight begins. I have a bad habit of wanting to wander off the straight and narrow all the while professing my undying love and telling everyone that I am doing no such thing.
The reason and the only reason that I am miserable much of the time is that I know what is right. I know what I do in my rebellious spirit is wrong but I insist, just as the children of Israel did, on complaining and wallowing in my self pity, and whining about what I think I should have.
But He is merciful. He is steadfast and He is God. He is The Messiah. He is the Only One who deserves honor, praise and glory. That is precisely why His Name should NEVER be diminished or left out or in any way ignored. The first four of the Ten Commandments are devoted to HIM. That ought to tell us something.
It should come as no surprise that the body of Christ is self-destructing. We are becoming consumed with working longer hours on the job in order to do a better job, saving the planet, living green, feeding the homeless, building bigger houses, more playgrounds, writing letters to politicians about spending, protesting this and supporting that until our time has been taken up with worthy causes. And we are busy at church decorating for this, cooking for that, raising money for the children's trip, the women's retreat, the gift bags for the hospital, the teddy bears for the ambulance, the blankets for the homeless, the basketball ministries, the inter-faith softball teams, the clothing for the shelters, and the prison outreach and the Angel Trees and all the other things that were never mentioned in Scripture.
We are so busy being busy that women cannot stay home with their children and are chided if they do so. Women are encouraged to act like men and men are encouraged to show their feelings. We have weeping men on the screen and women being drunk and spewing profanity like it is something to be proud of.
Our government is replete with talking heads that spout out politically correct gobbledygook which we are digesting as gospel while the real Gospel of Christ lies on the shelf collecting dust.
Rape, murder, incest and other atrocities are on the rise while women dress like whores showing their breasts and their behinds all the while wondering why they get no respect from men. They wonder why their relationships are short and tawdry. Even many churches remain silent. The older women no longer teach the younger as they are afraid they may offend them by telling them what is right and what is wrong.
Men leave children across the nation like so many Pez popping out of a candy dispenser. Male children growing up with only mothers to guide them. Angry young men becoming fathers themselves perpetuating the misery and leaving their own sons behind unless God Himself intervenes. Young girls without a proper father's love finding it where she may.
So where do we start? How do we turn things around? Can we even make a difference? Has the world gon to far over the line for a Christian to even try?
We start with ourselves. Only God can turn things around. Each one of us can make a difference in ourselves and those around us with God's help. It matters not how far gone the world is. What matters now is whether or not we are still being used of God to do HIS will instead of whining about what we cannot do. For we can do nothing. It is God who works. We are only a tool to be used for His pleasure.
We cannot save the world nor the planet. We cannot even save ourselves. The Salvation of the world, the rebuilding of the planet is His job.
If that is true then what difference does it make if we worship Him on Saturday or on Sunday? It makes a HUGE difference if it means we are being disobedient and are expecting our prayers to be answered. It makes a difference if we say we follow Him and do not follow His commandments.
It all makes a difference. It has to. He would not have said it if it was not important. We just need to listen to HIS voice and not our own. Let the Holy Spirit lead you. Be quiet and listen to the still small voice of God. One note that I will make about the following information is that the Sacrifice of Christ did not "cancel the written code" HE fulfilled the law. It may just be semantics to some, but to me there is a distinct difference.
The following was passed on to me via email. It is a bit different than the other information I found earlier. I do not know who wrote this, but credit is given to a writing by Jason Meyer at the end. I pass it on to you as complete as it was given to me.
********************************************************
It is often claimed that “God instituted the Sabbath in Eden” because of the connection between the Sabbath and creation in Exodus 20:11. Although God's rest on the seventh day (Genesis 2:3) did foreshadow a future Sabbath law, there is no biblical record of the Sabbath before the children of Israel left the land of Egypt. Nowhere in Scripture is there any hint that Sabbath-keeping was practiced from Adam to Moses.
The Word of God makes it quite clear that Sabbath observance was a special sign between God and Israel: “The Israelites are to observe the Sabbath, celebrating it for the generations to come as a lasting covenant. It will be a sign between me and the Israelites forever, for in six days the Lord made the heavens and the earth, and on the seventh day he abstained from work and rested” (Exodus 31:16–17).
In Deuteronomy 5, Moses restates the Ten Commandments to the next generation of Israelites. Here, after commanding Sabbath observance in verses 12–14, Moses gives the reason the Sabbath was given to the nation Israel: “Remember that you were slaves in Egypt and that the Lord your God brought you out of there with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm. Therefore the Lord your God has commanded you to observe the Sabbath day” (Deuteronomy 5:15).
God's intent for giving the Sabbath to Israel was not that they would remember creation, but that they would remember their Egyptian slavery and the Lord's deliverance. Note the requirements for Sabbath-keeping: A person placed under that Sabbath law could not leave his home on the Sabbath (Exodus 16:29), he could not build a fire (Exodus 35:3), and he could not cause anyone else to work (Deuteronomy 5:14). A person breaking the Sabbath law was to be put to death (Exodus 31:15; Numbers 15:32–35).
An examination of New Testament passages shows us four important points: 1) Whenever Christ appears in His resurrected form and the day is mentioned, it is always the first day of the week (Matthew 28:1, 9, 10; Mark 16:9; Luke 24:1, 13, 15; John 20:19, 26). 2) The only time the Sabbath is mentioned from Acts through Revelation it is for evangelistic purposes to the Jews and the setting is usually in a synagogue (Acts chapters 13–18). Paul wrote, “to the Jews I became as a Jew, that I might win Jews” (1 Corinthians 9:20). Paul did not go to the synagogue to fellowship with and edify the saints, but to convict and save the lost. 3) Once Paul states “from now on I will go to the Gentiles” (Acts 18:6), the Sabbath is never again mentioned. And 4) instead of suggesting adherence to the Sabbath day, the remainder of the New Testament implies the opposite (including the one exception to point 3 above, found in Colossians 2:16).
Looking more closely at point 4 above will reveal that there is no obligation for the New Testament believer to keep the Sabbath, and will also show that the idea of a Sunday “Christian Sabbath” is also unscriptural. As discussed above, there is one time the Sabbath is mentioned after Paul began to focus on the Gentiles, “Therefore do not let anyone judge you by what you eat or drink, or with regard to a religious festival, a New Moon celebration or a Sabbath day. These are a shadow of the things that were to come; the reality, however, is found in Christ.” (Colossians 2:16–17). The Jewish Sabbath was abolished at the cross where Christ “canceled the written code, with its regulations” (Colossians 2:14).
This idea is repeated more than once in the New Testament: “One man considers one day more sacred than another; another man considers every day alike. Each one should be fully convinced in his own mind. He who regards one day as special, does so to the Lord” (Romans 14:5–6a). “But now that you know God — or rather are known by God — how is it that you are turning back to those weak and miserable principles? Do you wish to be enslaved by them all over again? You are observing special days and months and seasons and years” (Galatians 4:9–10).
But some claim that a mandate by Constantine in A.D. 321 “changed” the Sabbath from Saturday to Sunday. On what day did the early church meet for worship? Scripture never mentions any Sabbath (Saturday) gatherings by believers for fellowship or worship. However, there are clear passages that mention the first day of the week. For instance, Acts 20:7 states that “on the first day of the week we came together to break bread.” In 1 Corinthians 16:2 Paul urges the Corinthian believers “on the first day of every week, each one of you should set aside a sum of money in keeping with his income.” Since Paul designates this offering as “service” in 2 Corinthians 9:12, this collection must have been linked with the Sunday worship service of the Christian assembly. Historically Sunday, not Saturday, was the normal meeting day for Christians in the church, and its practice dates back to the first century.
The Sabbath was given to Israel, not the church. The Sabbath is still Saturday, not Sunday, and has never been changed. But the Sabbath is part of the Old Testament Law, and Christians are free from the bondage of the Law (Galatians 4:1-26; Romans 6:14). Sabbath keeping is not required of the Christian—be it Saturday or Sunday. The first day of the week, Sunday, the Lord's Day (Revelation 1:10) celebrates the New Creation, with Christ as our resurrected Head. We are not obligated to follow the Mosaic Sabbath—resting, but are now free to follow the risen Christ—serving. The Apostle Paul said that each individual Christian should decide whether to observe a Sabbath rest, “One man considers one day more sacred than another; another man considers every day alike. Each one should be fully convinced in his own mind” (Romans 14:5). We are to worship God every day, not just on Saturday or Sunday.
Recommended Resource: The End of the Law: Mosaic Covenant in Pauline Theology by Jason Meyer.
Friday, December 17, 2010
The Sabbath or Sunday?
Sabbath: God's Gift to Mankind is a great site to go to for a study on whether or not we should, as Christians. be observing Sunday instead of Saturday.
Another site that has a comprehensive study of the questions is Seventh Day Sabbath or Sunday.
I want to state that I am not a Seventh Day Adventist. I attend, send my tithe to and am a member of a Southern Baptist Church. I use the King James version almost exclusively for study although I have others on hand. After I was saved by the Grace of God (reborn, born again, regenerated, etc.) on February 22, 1992 at about 7:30 pm, I attended a Gospel Hall (Non-Denominational church) for 8 years. After a meeting and I saw that my presence was causing some strife, I left and after about 2 years of not attending anywhere regularly, my husband and I went to the small Baptist church about 2 miles from home.
I find myself getting ever more exasperated at the failure of mainline and non-denominational churches to follow the Word of God in even the smallest thing. Besides looking at the failures of the churches, I can overlook my own failures.
We are (us Christians) as a whole wandering woefully far from the Bible. We allow, in fact encourage, those who are living in sin to participate in the choir, teach Sunday School and head committees. We have Christmas trees on the altar, Santa comes to visit the children in Sunday School or the Fellowship/Family Life buildings, we have festivities on Halloween encouraging our children and grandchildren to dress up in costumes and we wonder why they no longer attend church when they become teenagers or young adults. I can tell you why they quit coming. They just found better entertainment elsewhere.
We have puppet "ministries" that take the place of worship services. We have slide shows on missionary work on prayer meeting nights. Family night segregates the family and breaks in down into "age appropriate groups".
A child professes Salvation when he is 7 and a Sunday School teacher asks him what Santa's going to bring him for Christmas. He states that he does not believe in Santa. She then castigates him for not believing in anything when a somewhat disturbed onlooker interferes and says the child believes in Jesus Christ as his Savior, what more does he need? And we wonder why our children are confused.
Shame on us. We have become so much like the world that extremely few of us would be immediately arrested if Christianity became illegal.
Are we so much like the world that we let the world dictate when we are to worship? After reading the Scriptures associated with the articles, I am leaning in the affirmative.
After years of going along with the crowd, I am beginning to see that the world of Christianity may actually, more accurately be called "Christendumb".
"Good" Christian parents leave the rearing of their children to the schools. Children used to start school at the first grade at around age 6. Now the government would prefer that we take them home from the hospital and dump them in government sanctioned day care while we work to support the government.
If we have failed to follow Scripture in so many ways, it might just be, that like the sheep we are compared to we have followed the wrong voice when it comes to the Sabbath. Just because we have always done it a certain way, does not make it so. The traditions of men should never replace the commandments of God.
We fight over silly things in the church: carpet color, paint color, redecorating the vestibule, putting in another bathroom and on and on. I was even talked about once because I showed up with a hat on in church. I know this because the man approached the preacher about it within earshot and he obviously wanted me to hear what he said. The preacher had to tell the man that actually it was proper and a woman should have her head covered. I did not wear a hat again because it caused strife. I should have kept doing what was right instead of "going along" with the crowd.
What do I think? I think we just might be wrong by changing to Sunday. I think we go along with things and say, "What's the harm?" The harm is it is just another step away from what is right in the sight of God.
What am I going to do about it? I don't know just yet. That is a matter for prayer and study. I need to be absolutely certain. I have to read those Scriptures again and again and ask HIM for guidance.
Another site that has a comprehensive study of the questions is Seventh Day Sabbath or Sunday.
I want to state that I am not a Seventh Day Adventist. I attend, send my tithe to and am a member of a Southern Baptist Church. I use the King James version almost exclusively for study although I have others on hand. After I was saved by the Grace of God (reborn, born again, regenerated, etc.) on February 22, 1992 at about 7:30 pm, I attended a Gospel Hall (Non-Denominational church) for 8 years. After a meeting and I saw that my presence was causing some strife, I left and after about 2 years of not attending anywhere regularly, my husband and I went to the small Baptist church about 2 miles from home.
I find myself getting ever more exasperated at the failure of mainline and non-denominational churches to follow the Word of God in even the smallest thing. Besides looking at the failures of the churches, I can overlook my own failures.
We are (us Christians) as a whole wandering woefully far from the Bible. We allow, in fact encourage, those who are living in sin to participate in the choir, teach Sunday School and head committees. We have Christmas trees on the altar, Santa comes to visit the children in Sunday School or the Fellowship/Family Life buildings, we have festivities on Halloween encouraging our children and grandchildren to dress up in costumes and we wonder why they no longer attend church when they become teenagers or young adults. I can tell you why they quit coming. They just found better entertainment elsewhere.
We have puppet "ministries" that take the place of worship services. We have slide shows on missionary work on prayer meeting nights. Family night segregates the family and breaks in down into "age appropriate groups".
A child professes Salvation when he is 7 and a Sunday School teacher asks him what Santa's going to bring him for Christmas. He states that he does not believe in Santa. She then castigates him for not believing in anything when a somewhat disturbed onlooker interferes and says the child believes in Jesus Christ as his Savior, what more does he need? And we wonder why our children are confused.
Shame on us. We have become so much like the world that extremely few of us would be immediately arrested if Christianity became illegal.
Are we so much like the world that we let the world dictate when we are to worship? After reading the Scriptures associated with the articles, I am leaning in the affirmative.
After years of going along with the crowd, I am beginning to see that the world of Christianity may actually, more accurately be called "Christendumb".
"Good" Christian parents leave the rearing of their children to the schools. Children used to start school at the first grade at around age 6. Now the government would prefer that we take them home from the hospital and dump them in government sanctioned day care while we work to support the government.
If we have failed to follow Scripture in so many ways, it might just be, that like the sheep we are compared to we have followed the wrong voice when it comes to the Sabbath. Just because we have always done it a certain way, does not make it so. The traditions of men should never replace the commandments of God.
We fight over silly things in the church: carpet color, paint color, redecorating the vestibule, putting in another bathroom and on and on. I was even talked about once because I showed up with a hat on in church. I know this because the man approached the preacher about it within earshot and he obviously wanted me to hear what he said. The preacher had to tell the man that actually it was proper and a woman should have her head covered. I did not wear a hat again because it caused strife. I should have kept doing what was right instead of "going along" with the crowd.
What do I think? I think we just might be wrong by changing to Sunday. I think we go along with things and say, "What's the harm?" The harm is it is just another step away from what is right in the sight of God.
What am I going to do about it? I don't know just yet. That is a matter for prayer and study. I need to be absolutely certain. I have to read those Scriptures again and again and ask HIM for guidance.
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Faith
As you may well expect of me, I disagree that simply because someone other than the JW's use "a god" to describe The Messiah that it becomes correct. I find it offensive to refer to HIM as "a god" (lower case g as well). Others may not find it so. Because of what has been revealed in Scripture to me, it matters not if all the world refers to HIM as "a god". I will continue to refer to The Messiah as The GOD, Incarnate. I take it by faith not be the simple written words of supposed learned men in their years of study through their commentaries.
I also do not care much for commentaries either as they can sully the Word of God with their inane droning about the opinion they have regarding the Word of God and what they think it means.
The JW's pick where to put the articles (a, an, etc) within their translations as the original Hebrew did not have articles.
Language is translated not only by each individual word but by the intent of the writer as well. It is within that area that errors are most generally made. Who can discover the "intent" of a writer who has been gone for thousands of years? The only intent that I am concerned with is that of God the Father. I really do not care what might have been going on in the minds of the writers of Scripture 2 or 3,000 years ago. Man's mind change with the wind. The Will of God remains steadfast and what was correct in the Garden of Eden is still correct today.
I am rather single minded in my approach to the Bible as the inerrant Word of God. God said it and I believe it. The ramblings of men or women have no effect upon me. If they did, I would no longer know what to believe.
I also do not care much for commentaries either as they can sully the Word of God with their inane droning about the opinion they have regarding the Word of God and what they think it means.
The JW's pick where to put the articles (a, an, etc) within their translations as the original Hebrew did not have articles.
Language is translated not only by each individual word but by the intent of the writer as well. It is within that area that errors are most generally made. Who can discover the "intent" of a writer who has been gone for thousands of years? The only intent that I am concerned with is that of God the Father. I really do not care what might have been going on in the minds of the writers of Scripture 2 or 3,000 years ago. Man's mind change with the wind. The Will of God remains steadfast and what was correct in the Garden of Eden is still correct today.
I am rather single minded in my approach to the Bible as the inerrant Word of God. God said it and I believe it. The ramblings of men or women have no effect upon me. If they did, I would no longer know what to believe.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
What is Truth?
There is much debate over which translation or version of Scripture to use.
What I am going to give here is my own experience with a variety of translations.
First of all, few of us reads the actual translation according to Kings James' 1611 English translation. The wording is definitely archaic and hard to understand. The version that we read today is actually the 1769 Baskerville Birmingham version. When the Bibles have been printed, there have been changes made such as spellings of words are updated, some misspelled words in earlier editions have been corrected and so forth.
Up until about 130 years ago, the 14 Apocryphal books were included in every Bible translation. In the 1880's the English Revised Version (ERV) was printed without them. That was when the books of the Bible went from 80 Books to 66. They were not a "Catholic" set of Books, but books that were included in all translations until the ERV.
The segmentation of Scripture into verses is a fairly modern one if we take into account the whole of history since the first written Scripture in 1400BC when Moses was given the Ten Commandments in stone. It was 1560 that the Bible was first printed with numbered verses added to each chapter and was still printed with 80 Books.
One website that gives a lot of historical information regarding Bible translations is GREATSITE.COM. It is the first site that I have found that offers the information in an understandable manner. If you do a search for "Bible History" you will find many others.
As far as which translation is the best and which one contains more truth than the other, you will have to judge for yourself. My first experience was with the King James when going to a Baptist Church in Washington, DC. That was when I knew I was going to Hell for my sin. I was six (1951). About 6 years later when my mother started going back to the Catholic Church, I was exposed to Catholicism and everything was in Latin. My exposure to their Bible was minuscule.
At the ripe old age of 13 I went to a Church of God camp meeting in Manassass, Virginia with my Aunt where I became a "Church of Godder" (my words in a letter written to my mother). They used the KJV exclusively. I still have that Bible my Aunt gave me and I saw where key verses had been marked but I never really grasped the concept of Salvation.
When at the age of 14 went to Catholic School while living with my father, I still remember very little about Bible Study, it was more about learning the Catholic Catechism. While in High School I attended the Catholic Church, mostly to get next to the cadets that attended the local Military Academy. Some really cute ones went to the Catholic Church.
I was never a Catholic. I liked their rituals, their legalism and the mystery. That changed in the mid 1960's when the Church changed and became more modern and started having mass in English and those changes turned me away from the Catholic Church. It changed at a time when I needed sameness.
After graduation from High School, I traveled and bummed around a lot. I looked into a variety of religions. I actually purchased and read the Satanic Bible. I was involved with all kinds of New Age crap. I was involved with witchcraft, seances, Buddhism, Scientology and I even have a book of Mormon. I wound up in Washington, DC where there is a great concentration of ideas.
After I left Washington, DC, I married and had a child. Having a child gives you a desire to make yourself better so you can do better by your child than your parents did by you. Since my mother sent me to church, I figured going to Church with my child would be better. We joined his family's Presbyterian Church.
They asked me all the right questions to which I responded in the affirmative. I knew the right answers but I also knew I was lying. While going to Church, I began a Bible Study with the Jehovah's Witnesses. We actually studied the Bible. It was with a twist. Their belief in Jesus as the Messiah, the Son of God Incarnate is missing. I studied with them for 2 years. I never joined their Church because they could never convince me there was no Hell. Their structure was actually closer to Biblical than any Church that I had gone to.
There were years when I went to no Church at all and after many years of wandering the wilderness in circles, "I" decided it was time to look for THE "Truth." I started reading the only Bible I had available which was "The New World Translation of The Holy Scriptures." This is the Bible that the JW's use. What I found is that there are some striking, might I say, obvious, errors in their translation.
John 1:1 in the KJV states, "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God and the Word was God."
John 1:1 in the NWTHS it states, "In the beginning the Word was, and the Word was with God and the Word was a god."
If you were reading a familiar passage quickly, you would hardly notice the difference. I took note of it and read on anyway. By the time I got partially through the third chapter of John, I came to know Jesus Christ as my Savior. I knew he was the Son of God. I knew He died on the Cross for my sins.
There was nothing that was going to stop me from finding THE TRUTH and reading an erroneous Bible in that search was not to be an impediment.
The fact that there are errors in whatever translation you may be reading is not as dreadful as one may think, as long as the seeker is genuinely searching for THE TRUTH. I was once told that a searching sinner and a seeking Savior will eventually find one another.
Genesis 4:1 in the KJV states, "And Adam knew Eve..."
Genesis 4:1 in the NWTHS states,"Now Adam had intercourse with Eve..."
The difference in the above two translations is purely semantics. There are those who think that the KJV version is the correct one while the other is crass and irreverent. They are both correct. One is aesthetically pleasing while the other is almost salacious in its depiction. Some have described the one as being just "awful".
Acts 12:4 in the KJV states, "And when he had apprehended him, he put [him] in prison, and delivered [him] to four quaternions of soldiers to keep him; intending after Easter to bring him forth to the people."
The mention of Easter is an error in the KJV that I find fascinating. Easter is not a holiday that had its start in Christianity. Easter is a bastardization of a pagan holiday which actually had its beginning as a fertility festival. Then there is the Easter bunny. When did rabbits start laying eggs? Why are we promoting heathen fertility symbols on a day that is supposed to be a celebration of THE LORD rising from the dead? Have Christians totally lost their minds? Easter is a word that originates from the Teutonic dawn goddess of fertility which was known by a variety of names such as Ostare, Ostara, Ostern, Eostra, Eostre, Eostur, Eastra, Eastur, Austron and Ausos. Her name was derived from the ancient word for spring: "eastre." Call it Resurrection Day instead. It has also been associated with Ishtar who was a Sumero-Babylonian goddess of love and fertilty. We take their symbols and twist them to meet our needs so we can keep on having a holiday, another time for parties.
It would be better if we dispensed with the Pagan holidays and only celebrated those Holy Days that coincide with the Jewish Holy Days. Jesus was, after all, Jewish and continued to follow the Jewish traditions throughout His life on earth. The Jews were never told to dispense with the observance of the feasts and other observances. The Gentiles who were converted were told that they did not have to be circumcised in observance of Jewish tradition. The Lord's Day is Sunday instead of observing the Sabbath as the Jews did.
And that is what I think of different translations. If you seek HIM with all your heart, you will find HIM. Even if you do not have the written Word, creation and the Word is in all that is around us. We have only but to look for it. Once we have HIM then we need to prayerfully find in HIS Word what he has for us. While there are obvious human attempts to distort the Word of The Lord, HE will convict us of our sins IF we are indeed a child of GOD. Christianity should never be tolerant of error and sin against GOD but should do as was done for them - forgive and show the right way. Sin is sin. There are only degrees of sin in the eyes of man. God only turns His head away from sin and one sin is as bad as another.
What I am going to give here is my own experience with a variety of translations.
First of all, few of us reads the actual translation according to Kings James' 1611 English translation. The wording is definitely archaic and hard to understand. The version that we read today is actually the 1769 Baskerville Birmingham version. When the Bibles have been printed, there have been changes made such as spellings of words are updated, some misspelled words in earlier editions have been corrected and so forth.
Up until about 130 years ago, the 14 Apocryphal books were included in every Bible translation. In the 1880's the English Revised Version (ERV) was printed without them. That was when the books of the Bible went from 80 Books to 66. They were not a "Catholic" set of Books, but books that were included in all translations until the ERV.
The segmentation of Scripture into verses is a fairly modern one if we take into account the whole of history since the first written Scripture in 1400BC when Moses was given the Ten Commandments in stone. It was 1560 that the Bible was first printed with numbered verses added to each chapter and was still printed with 80 Books.
One website that gives a lot of historical information regarding Bible translations is GREATSITE.COM. It is the first site that I have found that offers the information in an understandable manner. If you do a search for "Bible History" you will find many others.
As far as which translation is the best and which one contains more truth than the other, you will have to judge for yourself. My first experience was with the King James when going to a Baptist Church in Washington, DC. That was when I knew I was going to Hell for my sin. I was six (1951). About 6 years later when my mother started going back to the Catholic Church, I was exposed to Catholicism and everything was in Latin. My exposure to their Bible was minuscule.
At the ripe old age of 13 I went to a Church of God camp meeting in Manassass, Virginia with my Aunt where I became a "Church of Godder" (my words in a letter written to my mother). They used the KJV exclusively. I still have that Bible my Aunt gave me and I saw where key verses had been marked but I never really grasped the concept of Salvation.
When at the age of 14 went to Catholic School while living with my father, I still remember very little about Bible Study, it was more about learning the Catholic Catechism. While in High School I attended the Catholic Church, mostly to get next to the cadets that attended the local Military Academy. Some really cute ones went to the Catholic Church.
I was never a Catholic. I liked their rituals, their legalism and the mystery. That changed in the mid 1960's when the Church changed and became more modern and started having mass in English and those changes turned me away from the Catholic Church. It changed at a time when I needed sameness.
After graduation from High School, I traveled and bummed around a lot. I looked into a variety of religions. I actually purchased and read the Satanic Bible. I was involved with all kinds of New Age crap. I was involved with witchcraft, seances, Buddhism, Scientology and I even have a book of Mormon. I wound up in Washington, DC where there is a great concentration of ideas.
After I left Washington, DC, I married and had a child. Having a child gives you a desire to make yourself better so you can do better by your child than your parents did by you. Since my mother sent me to church, I figured going to Church with my child would be better. We joined his family's Presbyterian Church.
They asked me all the right questions to which I responded in the affirmative. I knew the right answers but I also knew I was lying. While going to Church, I began a Bible Study with the Jehovah's Witnesses. We actually studied the Bible. It was with a twist. Their belief in Jesus as the Messiah, the Son of God Incarnate is missing. I studied with them for 2 years. I never joined their Church because they could never convince me there was no Hell. Their structure was actually closer to Biblical than any Church that I had gone to.
There were years when I went to no Church at all and after many years of wandering the wilderness in circles, "I" decided it was time to look for THE "Truth." I started reading the only Bible I had available which was "The New World Translation of The Holy Scriptures." This is the Bible that the JW's use. What I found is that there are some striking, might I say, obvious, errors in their translation.
John 1:1 in the KJV states, "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God and the Word was God."
John 1:1 in the NWTHS it states, "In the beginning the Word was, and the Word was with God and the Word was a god."
If you were reading a familiar passage quickly, you would hardly notice the difference. I took note of it and read on anyway. By the time I got partially through the third chapter of John, I came to know Jesus Christ as my Savior. I knew he was the Son of God. I knew He died on the Cross for my sins.
There was nothing that was going to stop me from finding THE TRUTH and reading an erroneous Bible in that search was not to be an impediment.
The fact that there are errors in whatever translation you may be reading is not as dreadful as one may think, as long as the seeker is genuinely searching for THE TRUTH. I was once told that a searching sinner and a seeking Savior will eventually find one another.
Genesis 4:1 in the KJV states, "And Adam knew Eve..."
Genesis 4:1 in the NWTHS states,"Now Adam had intercourse with Eve..."
The difference in the above two translations is purely semantics. There are those who think that the KJV version is the correct one while the other is crass and irreverent. They are both correct. One is aesthetically pleasing while the other is almost salacious in its depiction. Some have described the one as being just "awful".
Acts 12:4 in the KJV states, "And when he had apprehended him, he put [him] in prison, and delivered [him] to four quaternions of soldiers to keep him; intending after Easter to bring him forth to the people."
The mention of Easter is an error in the KJV that I find fascinating. Easter is not a holiday that had its start in Christianity. Easter is a bastardization of a pagan holiday which actually had its beginning as a fertility festival. Then there is the Easter bunny. When did rabbits start laying eggs? Why are we promoting heathen fertility symbols on a day that is supposed to be a celebration of THE LORD rising from the dead? Have Christians totally lost their minds? Easter is a word that originates from the Teutonic dawn goddess of fertility which was known by a variety of names such as Ostare, Ostara, Ostern, Eostra, Eostre, Eostur, Eastra, Eastur, Austron and Ausos. Her name was derived from the ancient word for spring: "eastre." Call it Resurrection Day instead. It has also been associated with Ishtar who was a Sumero-Babylonian goddess of love and fertilty. We take their symbols and twist them to meet our needs so we can keep on having a holiday, another time for parties.
It would be better if we dispensed with the Pagan holidays and only celebrated those Holy Days that coincide with the Jewish Holy Days. Jesus was, after all, Jewish and continued to follow the Jewish traditions throughout His life on earth. The Jews were never told to dispense with the observance of the feasts and other observances. The Gentiles who were converted were told that they did not have to be circumcised in observance of Jewish tradition. The Lord's Day is Sunday instead of observing the Sabbath as the Jews did.
And that is what I think of different translations. If you seek HIM with all your heart, you will find HIM. Even if you do not have the written Word, creation and the Word is in all that is around us. We have only but to look for it. Once we have HIM then we need to prayerfully find in HIS Word what he has for us. While there are obvious human attempts to distort the Word of The Lord, HE will convict us of our sins IF we are indeed a child of GOD. Christianity should never be tolerant of error and sin against GOD but should do as was done for them - forgive and show the right way. Sin is sin. There are only degrees of sin in the eyes of man. God only turns His head away from sin and one sin is as bad as another.
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
WOW!
United States of America, South Africa, Singapore, India, Croatia, Bermuda, Russia, Hong Kong, Canada, Pakistan, United Kingdom, Philippines, Denmark, Germany, Netherlands and Slovenia - what do they all have in common?
Well, one thing is that someone in each one of those countries has accessed my blog. To me, a person who grew up with not even a pen pal in another state, writing to people in other countries is amazing. Of course, it may only be read by a "bot" of some sort but I can pretend that a real human being has actually read my ramblings.
One thing that I have tried to do is keep my blog free from things that might offend someone and that is difficult for I know that there are many in the United States alone who are offended by the fact that I put Christian references in my blog. That, however, is non-negotiable. That is who I am.
I try not to offend by excluding foul language but sometimes with stories of my upbringing I include some of the milder forms. Even with the sexual themes that weave through my past, I do try to put it as delicately as possible and with little embellishment.
We are all people and things that offend one will not offend another. My hope and my prayer is that when you read what I have to say that you take something positive away from it.
I have other stories to share of my journey through life and if I can find a way to clean them up I will share them as well.
Have a wonderful day and since I have been collecting unemployment since June of this year, this is one way that I have to earn some extra cash. Please visit the ads on my blog. If you do and you find something offensive to you, please let me know and I will try to discontinue that ad. I cannot visit them so I will not know unless you readers let me know.
Thank you for reading my ramblings. I am humbled by your interest.
Well, one thing is that someone in each one of those countries has accessed my blog. To me, a person who grew up with not even a pen pal in another state, writing to people in other countries is amazing. Of course, it may only be read by a "bot" of some sort but I can pretend that a real human being has actually read my ramblings.
One thing that I have tried to do is keep my blog free from things that might offend someone and that is difficult for I know that there are many in the United States alone who are offended by the fact that I put Christian references in my blog. That, however, is non-negotiable. That is who I am.
I try not to offend by excluding foul language but sometimes with stories of my upbringing I include some of the milder forms. Even with the sexual themes that weave through my past, I do try to put it as delicately as possible and with little embellishment.
We are all people and things that offend one will not offend another. My hope and my prayer is that when you read what I have to say that you take something positive away from it.
I have other stories to share of my journey through life and if I can find a way to clean them up I will share them as well.
Have a wonderful day and since I have been collecting unemployment since June of this year, this is one way that I have to earn some extra cash. Please visit the ads on my blog. If you do and you find something offensive to you, please let me know and I will try to discontinue that ad. I cannot visit them so I will not know unless you readers let me know.
Thank you for reading my ramblings. I am humbled by your interest.
Tiny Houses Revisit a Dream
I recently purchased the plans for one of the Tumbleweed Tiny Houses. It is a fascinating idea and one that will work quite well if only we can learn to downsize.
Over the years, the houses that are being built have become enormous while the number of people occupying the house has dwindled. A large house, at one time, was only for the wealthy. Now it seems everyone MUST have a huge home with ever increasing debt and unhappiness as the result.
Look at the news. The number of foreclosures skyrocketed as the number of people who truly could not afford a huge home bought them and the result was losing not only the huge home but their credit and sometimes their family. Was it worth it? I doubt it. That huge home may have provided one with an acre of space but the time together as a family probably suffered because the adults had to be working to pay the mortgage, the taxes, the insurance and all the upkeep. And my goodness, one can't park a 1977 broke down vehicle out front so here comes even more expense for a new vehicle or at the very least a "pre-owned" one. It really is pathetic. We can't even call anything used anymore. It is pre-owned or gently worn or some such nonsense so we feel good about buying someone else's old stuff.
My mother shopped at the Salvation Army Thrift Store. We had a lot of other people's used stuff. And, yes I was embarrassed walking in there, but if anyone knew where my clothes came from, no one said anything. And not all of my clothing came from there, just the stuff I wore to play in. School clothes were bought on sale or I made my own clothes.
Anyway, back to Tiny Houses. My eighth grade field trip in school we went to New York City. It was my first trip. We went by train from Washington, DC to New York City. We then took tours of the United Nations Building and other sites. There was one time on the bus that stood out in my mind. Our bus driver took us through the Bowery. There really were drunks laying in the streets and spitting on windshields trying to get money for booze by "cleaning" the windshield.
I was stunned by the sheer number of them. They all seemed to be dressed in the same tattered suit. It was like a uniform for drunks. I was appalled and wondered why they were allowed to live on the street like that. I did not realize at the time how deep their problems were.
For several years after that trip I wanted to build something that would house all of these people who lived on the street or at least give them a place to stay in their own room at night. I knew nothing of the logistics connected with doing something like that. I just figured all those big vacant buildings we passed by could be used for that.
I never considered property ownership, the cost of rehabbing the buildings, building permits or politics. I wrongly assumed that everyone would want the same thing - a roof over everyone's head. I was not thinking about the millions of dollars and years it would take to accomplish something of that nature.
Looking at these Tiny Homes, my old dream was revived a bit. Living in a rural area in a state where trailers are not frowned upon, the thought again occurred to me that a person should not have to live or even want to live in a 2500 square foot home. What is wrong with wanting to live less cluttered and in a much smaller house? If someone can live homeless in a cardboard refrigerator box, why not put something on wheels with insulation and their own potty and some dignity with a whopping 77 square feet?
It is still a simplistic view of things. Not everyone is homeless for the same reason and some if told they could give up the cardboard home for a structure would still chose the cardboard one. Some would move in and bring in several friends. That would not bother me but would probably bother some housing authorities.
I can still see the little shanty towns that crop up in larger areas and underpasses replaced with Tiny Homes on wheels and when people get tired of seeing the poor, they can wheel their little homes away to another neighborhood that might be more forgiving. We have campgrounds that go unused throughout much of the year, why not have a tax break for those that allow Tiny Homes to park during the closed or slow seasons?
Jesus said that we will have the poor with us always.
Over the years, the houses that are being built have become enormous while the number of people occupying the house has dwindled. A large house, at one time, was only for the wealthy. Now it seems everyone MUST have a huge home with ever increasing debt and unhappiness as the result.
Look at the news. The number of foreclosures skyrocketed as the number of people who truly could not afford a huge home bought them and the result was losing not only the huge home but their credit and sometimes their family. Was it worth it? I doubt it. That huge home may have provided one with an acre of space but the time together as a family probably suffered because the adults had to be working to pay the mortgage, the taxes, the insurance and all the upkeep. And my goodness, one can't park a 1977 broke down vehicle out front so here comes even more expense for a new vehicle or at the very least a "pre-owned" one. It really is pathetic. We can't even call anything used anymore. It is pre-owned or gently worn or some such nonsense so we feel good about buying someone else's old stuff.
My mother shopped at the Salvation Army Thrift Store. We had a lot of other people's used stuff. And, yes I was embarrassed walking in there, but if anyone knew where my clothes came from, no one said anything. And not all of my clothing came from there, just the stuff I wore to play in. School clothes were bought on sale or I made my own clothes.
Anyway, back to Tiny Houses. My eighth grade field trip in school we went to New York City. It was my first trip. We went by train from Washington, DC to New York City. We then took tours of the United Nations Building and other sites. There was one time on the bus that stood out in my mind. Our bus driver took us through the Bowery. There really were drunks laying in the streets and spitting on windshields trying to get money for booze by "cleaning" the windshield.
I was stunned by the sheer number of them. They all seemed to be dressed in the same tattered suit. It was like a uniform for drunks. I was appalled and wondered why they were allowed to live on the street like that. I did not realize at the time how deep their problems were.
For several years after that trip I wanted to build something that would house all of these people who lived on the street or at least give them a place to stay in their own room at night. I knew nothing of the logistics connected with doing something like that. I just figured all those big vacant buildings we passed by could be used for that.
I never considered property ownership, the cost of rehabbing the buildings, building permits or politics. I wrongly assumed that everyone would want the same thing - a roof over everyone's head. I was not thinking about the millions of dollars and years it would take to accomplish something of that nature.
Looking at these Tiny Homes, my old dream was revived a bit. Living in a rural area in a state where trailers are not frowned upon, the thought again occurred to me that a person should not have to live or even want to live in a 2500 square foot home. What is wrong with wanting to live less cluttered and in a much smaller house? If someone can live homeless in a cardboard refrigerator box, why not put something on wheels with insulation and their own potty and some dignity with a whopping 77 square feet?
It is still a simplistic view of things. Not everyone is homeless for the same reason and some if told they could give up the cardboard home for a structure would still chose the cardboard one. Some would move in and bring in several friends. That would not bother me but would probably bother some housing authorities.
I can still see the little shanty towns that crop up in larger areas and underpasses replaced with Tiny Homes on wheels and when people get tired of seeing the poor, they can wheel their little homes away to another neighborhood that might be more forgiving. We have campgrounds that go unused throughout much of the year, why not have a tax break for those that allow Tiny Homes to park during the closed or slow seasons?
Jesus said that we will have the poor with us always.
Friday, December 3, 2010
Mom - I Remember What you Told Me.
Growing up with my family was an adventure to say the least. While the Saturday night fights were being shown on TV, my own family had their own version of it. It was live and my brother and I had front row seats.
It was many years before I came to understand what made my mother the way she was. It did not make what she did right, but I was able to understand. Understanding why became extremely important when I had my own child.
On July 1, 1930 a female child was born to Nancy and George. She was the youngest of then 6 living children. There was Pershing, James, Nancy, Marjorie, Juanita, Mom and George Jr. was born about a year or so after Mom.
I am not sure of the birth order. I was never paying close enough attention when Mom droned on about her ancestors and her immediate family. It was important to her, but all I wanted to know was how to leave that town I so came to detest. There are some things that I remembered about the life she lead as a child because she repeated them often.
Mom was less than six when she learned to cook. She had a stool she stood on while she fried an egg for herself and her little brother. If she did not cook for them, they got no breakfast.
It was a wood-burning cook stove and it was almost 2 feet from the wall of the kitchen. She got up in the morning and made sure there was a fire in the stove. She got out an iron skillet and some lard. She then cracked an egg into the skillet and fried it. One of them ate the yoke and the other ate the white part. They each got the part they liked.
She wore hand-me-down clothes and shoes so there were seldom times that anything fit properly. She was six years old when she smoked her first cigarette. One of her older sisters told her she would pay her if she would wash out her baby's dirty diapers. She washed them out and when she was paid, it was in a couple of cigarettes. She didn't know what else to do with them so she smoked them. It did not take too long for her to be finding all kinds of nasty jobs to get her pay in cigarettes.
Mom was a sickly child and often had bronchitis and pneumonia even before she started smoking. It was apparent early in her life that her mother, Nancy, had problems. Nancy or Nannie as George called her had what was referred to as "sick headaches" and was often lying on the sofa with a rag tied around her head. It was at those times, Mom knew to stay as far away as she could. Nannie was brutal. When she was in one of her moods she would kick Mom and berate her until Mom found a chance to escape and hide behind the stove in the kitchen.
Mom was beaten often and her frail body was frequently bruised and hurting. After one of Nannie's more boisterous rampages, Mom came down with pneumonia, at least that was what they thought, and did not expect her to survive the night. She survived, but got no better. Nannie did not want to take her to the doctor because of the fresh bruises on her body. George picked up the small body and took her to the hospital.
Mom had rheumatic fever. They called in the Catholic Priest to give her Last Rites. When the Priest knelt by her bedside, she opened her eyes.
The priest asked if there was something he could do for her and she said, "I want a cigarette." She told me that if the Priest was there, that meant she was dying and it would not make any difference if Nannie knew she was smoking.
The frail little girl did not die. She lived to go back home with her mother who now knew she smoked. She still slept in the bed she shared with her little brother. Georgie wet the bed. Mom did not like sleeping in the bed with him so she took a canning jar and caught a black widow spider. She put it on the stand next to the bed and told him that if he didn't stay sleeping at the foot of the bed, she would let it loose on him. He did not know she was not about to let that thing loose on the bed or in the house. She did not like spiders but she liked a pissy bed even less.
Something that even Mom did not know until I was in high school was that she had polio when she was a child. She went to the doctor with me and they still had her old medical records. When she went back to the doctor, he asked her if she had any problems after having polio. She was shocked to learn that she had polio when she was a young girl. After finding out about the polio, she wondered if that was why her one leg was a couple of inches shorter than the other.
When she was in her mid-twenties Mom was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis. One of the specialists she saw told her she needed to be in a wheelchair. According to Mom the conversation went something like this.
"You need to be in a wheelchair."
"Why?"
"Because of the pain you are in."
"Will being in the wheelchair make the pain go away?"
"No. You will always have the pain, but..."
"If I'm going to have pain if I'm in a wheelchair or not, why would I want to confine myself to a friggin wheelchair? Have you lost your mind?"
And that was how Mom handled everything. She was in pain, but she was up and going, not letting someone wheel her around simply because she was in pain. She had pain from the MS. She had asthma and allergies to dust, wool, fragrances, grasses and a bunch of other things. She had pain from Rheumatoid Arthritis.
She took up bowling because a doctor said it would be good for her back. She could not bowl with the big balls so she bowled duckpins. She had her own balls and a special skirt made just for bowling. She was good enough to get a trophy.
Ah, the trophy. After several years and married to her third husband, we were living back in the small town where she grew up. My little brother and I were arguing about something and he picked up the trophy and I grabbed it from him and it broke. I knew it was going to cause a scene and I meant to get it repaired before she found out, but she was quicker than I was sneaky. It is only recently that I realize what that trophy meant to her and why she cried when she saw it. It was a symbol of what she had accomplished against all the odds. It was a symbol of her determination and I broke it.
Over the years I have learned that Mom was less brutal than her mother and I was less brutal than she was. I learned that she changed and so could I. Over the years I learned to appreciate her, even admire her.
I miss my mother. I would like to be able to tell her how sorry I am for breaking her only trophy. I would like to thank her for doing the best job she could. There are so many things that I would like to tell her. I would like to tell her once again that I love her.
Mom called me at 6:00 am every morning for the longest time and there were times when I was so aggravated and wished she hadn't called, but I never said anything to deter her. Then one day, I noticed that she had not called for several days, so I called her.
She answered and said something unintelligible and I immediately got concerned. I called several times a day and throughout the evening until I spoke to her husband. He said she was losing her mind and he was going to have to put her in a nursing home.
I told him I would be there in 24 hours. By the time I got there she had been admitted to the hospital. Within 48 hours, they diagnosed her with stage 4 lung cancer. She was losing her mind because the oxygen was being cut off by the tumor.
I brought her home with me after she was discharged so I could care for her. That was October 31, 2000. Mid November she started chemo. By late December she was in her right mind. We had visitors in December and one of them asked her if she knew Jesus Christ as her Saviour. Her answer was simply, "No."
Her answer shocked me just a bit because in the past she always argued with anyone who brought up God, or Scriptures or anything connected to the Bible.
She shocked me again when the following Saturday she asked me if I was going to church on Sunday. I had not attended church since I brought her home, but my answer was, "Yes." She asked me if she could go and what should she wear.
I do not know the time that it happened for her because we never really got a chance to discuss it. She changed. Suddenly she was at peace. Her language was clean. She wanted to go to church every chance. She was a wonderful person to be around.
She told me one day that all those years she had read the Bible, this was the first time that she saw salvation in it. I was stunned. God, The Father, was awesome. He gave her that one more chance, that chance that I had prayed for eight years asking, pleading for Him to give her. She took it.
It was March of 2001 when her husband drove to our home and picked her up and took her back to their home. I visited her several times and I asked The Lord for one more favor and that was to be with her when she went home to be with him. He granted my request. I almost did not go to see her that weekend, but He compelled me to go.
It was June and the cancer had overcome her weakened state. The radiation treatments had not helped. She had been given steroids and her face was swollen. Her hair was gone and she was very weak. Her hospital bed was in the living room and I was sleeping in the recliner which was about a foot from her bed. I was flipping through the channels with the sound muted when I heard it. I heard that final breath, that sigh of relief. I looked at the time. It was 2:00 am. There was really no need to wake anyone. Good-byes should have already been said. So, I woke no one. I turned off the TV and leaned over my mother and whispered to her that I loved her. I had heard that as a person dies, their hearing is the last sense to leave. On that assumption I had to tell her that one last time that I loved her and I did.
I waited until morning when someone else came in and "discovered" her death. After the memorial service, I told her husband when she had actually died and that I had been awake. He said that I had done the right thing in waiting.
The funeral was filled with people who had known her "before" and there were many mentions of what a change had come over her. She was so pleasant to be around. There was no greater compliment that The Lord could have gotten than the acknowledgment that He had changed her life so dramatically.
She and her husband had been married more than 30 years and he said that if she had been that pleasant to be around the whole time they were married, that their marriage would have been so much better. I told him that He had The Lord to thank for that, but I don't know that those words truly registered with him.
I miss Mom, but my hope is that she is with The Lord and I will once again see her and we will praise Him together.
It was many years before I came to understand what made my mother the way she was. It did not make what she did right, but I was able to understand. Understanding why became extremely important when I had my own child.
On July 1, 1930 a female child was born to Nancy and George. She was the youngest of then 6 living children. There was Pershing, James, Nancy, Marjorie, Juanita, Mom and George Jr. was born about a year or so after Mom.
I am not sure of the birth order. I was never paying close enough attention when Mom droned on about her ancestors and her immediate family. It was important to her, but all I wanted to know was how to leave that town I so came to detest. There are some things that I remembered about the life she lead as a child because she repeated them often.
Mom was less than six when she learned to cook. She had a stool she stood on while she fried an egg for herself and her little brother. If she did not cook for them, they got no breakfast.
It was a wood-burning cook stove and it was almost 2 feet from the wall of the kitchen. She got up in the morning and made sure there was a fire in the stove. She got out an iron skillet and some lard. She then cracked an egg into the skillet and fried it. One of them ate the yoke and the other ate the white part. They each got the part they liked.
She wore hand-me-down clothes and shoes so there were seldom times that anything fit properly. She was six years old when she smoked her first cigarette. One of her older sisters told her she would pay her if she would wash out her baby's dirty diapers. She washed them out and when she was paid, it was in a couple of cigarettes. She didn't know what else to do with them so she smoked them. It did not take too long for her to be finding all kinds of nasty jobs to get her pay in cigarettes.
Mom was a sickly child and often had bronchitis and pneumonia even before she started smoking. It was apparent early in her life that her mother, Nancy, had problems. Nancy or Nannie as George called her had what was referred to as "sick headaches" and was often lying on the sofa with a rag tied around her head. It was at those times, Mom knew to stay as far away as she could. Nannie was brutal. When she was in one of her moods she would kick Mom and berate her until Mom found a chance to escape and hide behind the stove in the kitchen.
Mom was beaten often and her frail body was frequently bruised and hurting. After one of Nannie's more boisterous rampages, Mom came down with pneumonia, at least that was what they thought, and did not expect her to survive the night. She survived, but got no better. Nannie did not want to take her to the doctor because of the fresh bruises on her body. George picked up the small body and took her to the hospital.
Mom had rheumatic fever. They called in the Catholic Priest to give her Last Rites. When the Priest knelt by her bedside, she opened her eyes.
The priest asked if there was something he could do for her and she said, "I want a cigarette." She told me that if the Priest was there, that meant she was dying and it would not make any difference if Nannie knew she was smoking.
The frail little girl did not die. She lived to go back home with her mother who now knew she smoked. She still slept in the bed she shared with her little brother. Georgie wet the bed. Mom did not like sleeping in the bed with him so she took a canning jar and caught a black widow spider. She put it on the stand next to the bed and told him that if he didn't stay sleeping at the foot of the bed, she would let it loose on him. He did not know she was not about to let that thing loose on the bed or in the house. She did not like spiders but she liked a pissy bed even less.
Something that even Mom did not know until I was in high school was that she had polio when she was a child. She went to the doctor with me and they still had her old medical records. When she went back to the doctor, he asked her if she had any problems after having polio. She was shocked to learn that she had polio when she was a young girl. After finding out about the polio, she wondered if that was why her one leg was a couple of inches shorter than the other.
When she was in her mid-twenties Mom was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis. One of the specialists she saw told her she needed to be in a wheelchair. According to Mom the conversation went something like this.
"You need to be in a wheelchair."
"Why?"
"Because of the pain you are in."
"Will being in the wheelchair make the pain go away?"
"No. You will always have the pain, but..."
"If I'm going to have pain if I'm in a wheelchair or not, why would I want to confine myself to a friggin wheelchair? Have you lost your mind?"
And that was how Mom handled everything. She was in pain, but she was up and going, not letting someone wheel her around simply because she was in pain. She had pain from the MS. She had asthma and allergies to dust, wool, fragrances, grasses and a bunch of other things. She had pain from Rheumatoid Arthritis.
She took up bowling because a doctor said it would be good for her back. She could not bowl with the big balls so she bowled duckpins. She had her own balls and a special skirt made just for bowling. She was good enough to get a trophy.
Ah, the trophy. After several years and married to her third husband, we were living back in the small town where she grew up. My little brother and I were arguing about something and he picked up the trophy and I grabbed it from him and it broke. I knew it was going to cause a scene and I meant to get it repaired before she found out, but she was quicker than I was sneaky. It is only recently that I realize what that trophy meant to her and why she cried when she saw it. It was a symbol of what she had accomplished against all the odds. It was a symbol of her determination and I broke it.
Over the years I have learned that Mom was less brutal than her mother and I was less brutal than she was. I learned that she changed and so could I. Over the years I learned to appreciate her, even admire her.
I miss my mother. I would like to be able to tell her how sorry I am for breaking her only trophy. I would like to thank her for doing the best job she could. There are so many things that I would like to tell her. I would like to tell her once again that I love her.
Mom called me at 6:00 am every morning for the longest time and there were times when I was so aggravated and wished she hadn't called, but I never said anything to deter her. Then one day, I noticed that she had not called for several days, so I called her.
She answered and said something unintelligible and I immediately got concerned. I called several times a day and throughout the evening until I spoke to her husband. He said she was losing her mind and he was going to have to put her in a nursing home.
I told him I would be there in 24 hours. By the time I got there she had been admitted to the hospital. Within 48 hours, they diagnosed her with stage 4 lung cancer. She was losing her mind because the oxygen was being cut off by the tumor.
I brought her home with me after she was discharged so I could care for her. That was October 31, 2000. Mid November she started chemo. By late December she was in her right mind. We had visitors in December and one of them asked her if she knew Jesus Christ as her Saviour. Her answer was simply, "No."
Her answer shocked me just a bit because in the past she always argued with anyone who brought up God, or Scriptures or anything connected to the Bible.
She shocked me again when the following Saturday she asked me if I was going to church on Sunday. I had not attended church since I brought her home, but my answer was, "Yes." She asked me if she could go and what should she wear.
I do not know the time that it happened for her because we never really got a chance to discuss it. She changed. Suddenly she was at peace. Her language was clean. She wanted to go to church every chance. She was a wonderful person to be around.
She told me one day that all those years she had read the Bible, this was the first time that she saw salvation in it. I was stunned. God, The Father, was awesome. He gave her that one more chance, that chance that I had prayed for eight years asking, pleading for Him to give her. She took it.
It was March of 2001 when her husband drove to our home and picked her up and took her back to their home. I visited her several times and I asked The Lord for one more favor and that was to be with her when she went home to be with him. He granted my request. I almost did not go to see her that weekend, but He compelled me to go.
It was June and the cancer had overcome her weakened state. The radiation treatments had not helped. She had been given steroids and her face was swollen. Her hair was gone and she was very weak. Her hospital bed was in the living room and I was sleeping in the recliner which was about a foot from her bed. I was flipping through the channels with the sound muted when I heard it. I heard that final breath, that sigh of relief. I looked at the time. It was 2:00 am. There was really no need to wake anyone. Good-byes should have already been said. So, I woke no one. I turned off the TV and leaned over my mother and whispered to her that I loved her. I had heard that as a person dies, their hearing is the last sense to leave. On that assumption I had to tell her that one last time that I loved her and I did.
I waited until morning when someone else came in and "discovered" her death. After the memorial service, I told her husband when she had actually died and that I had been awake. He said that I had done the right thing in waiting.
The funeral was filled with people who had known her "before" and there were many mentions of what a change had come over her. She was so pleasant to be around. There was no greater compliment that The Lord could have gotten than the acknowledgment that He had changed her life so dramatically.
She and her husband had been married more than 30 years and he said that if she had been that pleasant to be around the whole time they were married, that their marriage would have been so much better. I told him that He had The Lord to thank for that, but I don't know that those words truly registered with him.
I miss Mom, but my hope is that she is with The Lord and I will once again see her and we will praise Him together.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Devoted to Depression
I did not write anything yesterday because I was depressed. I went shopping instead. Probably not the best thing to do, because I get to see all the bright, shiny things I do not have. Mind you, I do not want 99% of them, but still it is a reminder, especially if it tells you, "Your life will be better if you buy this." I did not buy a bunch. I have a limit when I do that.
I guess the main reason I got depressed or regressed is that I still miss my job. They tried to convince me that I did not like my job and the people that I worked with when they fired me, but they were lying. They just wanted me gone because I was old and had principles. They wanted someone who thought like them and would have a disregard for the law and the employees.
I am still angry about what they did to me. I am angry because I had no control over it. I was thrown away like the trash and with less regard than what they do with their trash. I have not been the only one. They have done it to others who are older like me. They did it because they think they will be better off without us old geezers to get in the way of their progress.
They claim to be Christians, yet they work their people on Sunday. They claim to be Christians yet they force their office staff to go to Bible studies during work hours and berate them if they do not make it. They claim to be Christians yet they toss their wives aside for other people and for the job. They claim to be Christians, yet they gossip about their workers violating not only God's law but Federal law as well.
They claim to be Christians yet their actions speak far louder than their claims. They go to Israel with their select group of pastors and say how enlightening it is, but then have indiscretions when they return.
They claim to be Christians, yet they lead a double life and it gets increasingly difficult to know which one is their true self.
I claim to be a Christian as well. Sometimes if you catch me on a bad day or a bad moment, you would hardly believe it. I know what it is like to be misjudged. I think that is probably why I excused a lot of the activities when I worked there.
In spite of it all, I miss working with many of the people. I miss that structure. I do not miss many of the things they wanted me to do. It just was not worth it. I worked more than 60 hours a week most weeks for the 2 years before I was fired. They did not appreciate it when I was doing it and they certainly did not appreciate it when I stopped doing it 2 weeks before they fired me. The last 2 weeks I only worked about 45 - 50 hours a week.
So, I still get depressed when I think about my job. I spent 16 years 5 months and 4 days with people who cared as little for me as they do used toilet paper. Yesterday was the first time that I have been able to drive by their office without getting enraged, so I guess I am making progress.
I had to disrupt my counseling sessions due to some medical insurance problems, but I hope those problems will be straightened out soon because I really need those sessions. She is a good Christian counselor and helps me stay on track.
I would appreciate it if you would pray for me. He is the greatest Counselor. Pray for me to be closer to HIM for that is what is truly important.
I guess the main reason I got depressed or regressed is that I still miss my job. They tried to convince me that I did not like my job and the people that I worked with when they fired me, but they were lying. They just wanted me gone because I was old and had principles. They wanted someone who thought like them and would have a disregard for the law and the employees.
I am still angry about what they did to me. I am angry because I had no control over it. I was thrown away like the trash and with less regard than what they do with their trash. I have not been the only one. They have done it to others who are older like me. They did it because they think they will be better off without us old geezers to get in the way of their progress.
They claim to be Christians, yet they work their people on Sunday. They claim to be Christians yet they force their office staff to go to Bible studies during work hours and berate them if they do not make it. They claim to be Christians yet they toss their wives aside for other people and for the job. They claim to be Christians, yet they gossip about their workers violating not only God's law but Federal law as well.
They claim to be Christians yet their actions speak far louder than their claims. They go to Israel with their select group of pastors and say how enlightening it is, but then have indiscretions when they return.
They claim to be Christians, yet they lead a double life and it gets increasingly difficult to know which one is their true self.
I claim to be a Christian as well. Sometimes if you catch me on a bad day or a bad moment, you would hardly believe it. I know what it is like to be misjudged. I think that is probably why I excused a lot of the activities when I worked there.
In spite of it all, I miss working with many of the people. I miss that structure. I do not miss many of the things they wanted me to do. It just was not worth it. I worked more than 60 hours a week most weeks for the 2 years before I was fired. They did not appreciate it when I was doing it and they certainly did not appreciate it when I stopped doing it 2 weeks before they fired me. The last 2 weeks I only worked about 45 - 50 hours a week.
So, I still get depressed when I think about my job. I spent 16 years 5 months and 4 days with people who cared as little for me as they do used toilet paper. Yesterday was the first time that I have been able to drive by their office without getting enraged, so I guess I am making progress.
I had to disrupt my counseling sessions due to some medical insurance problems, but I hope those problems will be straightened out soon because I really need those sessions. She is a good Christian counselor and helps me stay on track.
I would appreciate it if you would pray for me. He is the greatest Counselor. Pray for me to be closer to HIM for that is what is truly important.
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Thankful for Tiny Tomatoes
Last year we planted cherry tomatoes in the flower garden that borders the front of the house. This year the Lord gave me a tomato plant in much the same spot as those of last year.
The plant was beautiful and as it grew it was tied up to keep it off the ground and away from my mums. It was such a beautiful plant that I was going to take a picture of it to send to my son and another friend or two to let them see how the Lord had blessed us.
That afternoon, the cows came. It was funny when they were in the vegetable garden in the back because the harvest had already been done. They were munching on the beans and tomato plants that were already dying. The cow patties they left in the yard did not bother me because my husband goes to the pasture and brings home buckets of the stuff for the garden.
My heart sunk as they made it to the front of the house and happily decimated my irises. They made their way to my tomato plants, my decorative grass and my mums. They left their payment in the form of huge, round, brown patties.
The only thought that came to mind was, "The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away." All that was left were a few fat green sticks and a tiny branch with a few leaves.
My first thought was to just pull them up and till the soil for next season or some new mums. I left it as it was. I was curious to see what would happen next. The three cows were still on the loose so any new plants could become fodder for bovine never ending appetites..
The cows were eventually corralled and life returned to normal. It was awhile before I checked on the plants again. There was no point. They were at the point that growth would take place even if I did not stare at them daily. There were other things that needed to be done.
I watched the plants with interest as they all came back. The mums grew back and bloomed. The grasses grew back and were just as pretty as before. The tomato plant seemed to grow faster and bigger than the other ravaged plants.
I have done little to help them grow. They seem to be doing quite well with only the Lord's help.
The weather got cooler, but the plant continued to grow and produce tiny tomatoes. The cooler temperatures kept them from ripening. I put cardboard walls around the plant and covered it at night to keep it from getting frosted. I raked up pine straw and packed it around the inner walls of the cardboard to insulate the plant. At night I cover the whole thing with a drop cloth. So far the weather has still been mild enough that my makeshift shelter has been enough to keep them alive and thriving.
It has been about 3 months since the cow invasion. I checked this morning to see if there were any ripe tomatoes. I dug around and found 4. They are quite small. They are, in fact, tiny, no bigger than my thumb.
They are a gift from the Lord. One of those tiny gifts, but a gift nonetheless. I am thankful for this small Blessing. He has shown me that He cares enough to give me even the smallest desires of my heart.
The plant was beautiful and as it grew it was tied up to keep it off the ground and away from my mums. It was such a beautiful plant that I was going to take a picture of it to send to my son and another friend or two to let them see how the Lord had blessed us.
That afternoon, the cows came. It was funny when they were in the vegetable garden in the back because the harvest had already been done. They were munching on the beans and tomato plants that were already dying. The cow patties they left in the yard did not bother me because my husband goes to the pasture and brings home buckets of the stuff for the garden.
My heart sunk as they made it to the front of the house and happily decimated my irises. They made their way to my tomato plants, my decorative grass and my mums. They left their payment in the form of huge, round, brown patties.
The only thought that came to mind was, "The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away." All that was left were a few fat green sticks and a tiny branch with a few leaves.
My first thought was to just pull them up and till the soil for next season or some new mums. I left it as it was. I was curious to see what would happen next. The three cows were still on the loose so any new plants could become fodder for bovine never ending appetites..
The cows were eventually corralled and life returned to normal. It was awhile before I checked on the plants again. There was no point. They were at the point that growth would take place even if I did not stare at them daily. There were other things that needed to be done.
I watched the plants with interest as they all came back. The mums grew back and bloomed. The grasses grew back and were just as pretty as before. The tomato plant seemed to grow faster and bigger than the other ravaged plants.I have done little to help them grow. They seem to be doing quite well with only the Lord's help.
The weather got cooler, but the plant continued to grow and produce tiny tomatoes. The cooler temperatures kept them from ripening. I put cardboard walls around the plant and covered it at night to keep it from getting frosted. I raked up pine straw and packed it around the inner walls of the cardboard to insulate the plant. At night I cover the whole thing with a drop cloth. So far the weather has still been mild enough that my makeshift shelter has been enough to keep them alive and thriving.
It has been about 3 months since the cow invasion. I checked this morning to see if there were any ripe tomatoes. I dug around and found 4. They are quite small. They are, in fact, tiny, no bigger than my thumb.
They are a gift from the Lord. One of those tiny gifts, but a gift nonetheless. I am thankful for this small Blessing. He has shown me that He cares enough to give me even the smallest desires of my heart.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Common Sense or NONsense
If you want to fly (and it is the most efficient way to get from here to there) you need to be prepared to be exposed to radiation, TSA pat downs and long waits.
Has our government lost touch with reality? Can we not learn from those who have been under attack since the creation of their country? Those of you who have read my posts and know where I stand will know the country that I speak of - Israel.
Israel has been under attack since the land grant given by YHWH and again when man once again gave it country status in May 14, 1948 following World War II. How can one tiny country that is slightly smaller than the state of New Jersey be such a thorn in the side of the entire world? Scripture tells us that eventually ALL nations will turn against Israel. All that being said, Israel has survived.
The El Al pilots are all former Air Force Pilots. They have the latest in defense capabilities built in to their commercial jets; not some but all.
Each person is screened as soon as they purchase their ticket. Everyone with a ticket to fly on El Al is treated the same. Everyone is interviewed by Trained personnel prior to going through the rest of security. The primary interview segregates each person based upon their answers to questions, their state of mind during the questioning (whether or not they appear nervous or anxious during questioning) and other factors.
They have no body scanners and do not do pat downs. If you need further scrutiny, you are sent to others for further questioning and your bags could be searched. The personnel that search the bags, search everything. They search each piece of clothing and take everything out of the suitcase. Luggage is sent through a decompression chamber that replicates the conditions in the baggage compartment on the plane. So if explosives are susceptible to atmospheric changes, they could be set off.
There are several levels of travelers and once you get through security, you can be sure that everyone has experienced the same scrutiny without having the indignity of someone's hands all over your body or being exposed to unnecessary radiation.
And their trained personnel are rotated out after 3 years in order to avoid them becoming complacent.
Why can we not learn from the professionals? Are we afraid of being seen as weak because we ask a tiny country for advice? I think the United States would be smart to follow the leader in airline safety.
It just seems like common sense to learn from someone who has a great deal of experience. Alas, we have to go with the nonsense of body scans and pat downs by poorly trained or simply tired personnel.
Happy Thanksgiving to all of you. If you do not celebrate Thanksgiving, be sure to give thanks for all the Blessings.
Has our government lost touch with reality? Can we not learn from those who have been under attack since the creation of their country? Those of you who have read my posts and know where I stand will know the country that I speak of - Israel.
Israel has been under attack since the land grant given by YHWH and again when man once again gave it country status in May 14, 1948 following World War II. How can one tiny country that is slightly smaller than the state of New Jersey be such a thorn in the side of the entire world? Scripture tells us that eventually ALL nations will turn against Israel. All that being said, Israel has survived.
The El Al pilots are all former Air Force Pilots. They have the latest in defense capabilities built in to their commercial jets; not some but all.
Each person is screened as soon as they purchase their ticket. Everyone with a ticket to fly on El Al is treated the same. Everyone is interviewed by Trained personnel prior to going through the rest of security. The primary interview segregates each person based upon their answers to questions, their state of mind during the questioning (whether or not they appear nervous or anxious during questioning) and other factors.
They have no body scanners and do not do pat downs. If you need further scrutiny, you are sent to others for further questioning and your bags could be searched. The personnel that search the bags, search everything. They search each piece of clothing and take everything out of the suitcase. Luggage is sent through a decompression chamber that replicates the conditions in the baggage compartment on the plane. So if explosives are susceptible to atmospheric changes, they could be set off.
There are several levels of travelers and once you get through security, you can be sure that everyone has experienced the same scrutiny without having the indignity of someone's hands all over your body or being exposed to unnecessary radiation.
And their trained personnel are rotated out after 3 years in order to avoid them becoming complacent.
Why can we not learn from the professionals? Are we afraid of being seen as weak because we ask a tiny country for advice? I think the United States would be smart to follow the leader in airline safety.
It just seems like common sense to learn from someone who has a great deal of experience. Alas, we have to go with the nonsense of body scans and pat downs by poorly trained or simply tired personnel.
Happy Thanksgiving to all of you. If you do not celebrate Thanksgiving, be sure to give thanks for all the Blessings.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
3 am on Friday I Will NOT Be Shopping
I was in a store last week and while going down one of the aisles, I saw a garment on the floor. It was convenient for me to stop and gather it off the floor and hang it on the rack. I do not do that every time I see something knocked off the rack, but sometimes.
I was unaware that anyone saw me until a store clerk stopped me and said, "Thank you!"
It startled me just a bit because by that time, my mind was already on to something else. When the second clerk came up to me and thanked me profusely, it occurred to me that they thought this simple act of picking up something and hanging it back on the rack was somehow noteworthy.
The second woman said that it would be a mad house when the sales started and if I wanted to get something special I would have to get in line for a ticket and then I would be able to get just that one item.
There is nothing that I need so badly that I find it necessary to live on the sidewalk for days or even hours before the big sale just to get a hundred dollar item for a nickel. This insanity is a symptom of our warped perspective of what is truly important.
I went to one sunrise sale in 1968 with my mother. The store opened at 6:00 am and they (the shoppers) rushed through the doors like animals escaping the slaughter, only they were running into the store. They almost knocked me down.
Looking around, it appeared as though they were wounded tigers hunting for prey. I was familiar with some of these women, but the glazed look in their eyes and furtive glances about the store were eerie to say the least. I never went again.
When the news reports of people trampled in the rush to get into a sale or they show people walking on top of a woman who has been knocked down so hard that her wig falls off, I am truly appalled at what people will do to one another for a dollar. That is really all it is. We will willingly trample to death a fellow shopper just to save a dollar.
If you were asked the question, "Would you be a contract killer?" or, "Could someone pay you to kill your neighbor?" you would probably say indignantly, "Absolutely NOT!"
No, but you and that hungry mob of shoppers would trample to death and unsuspecting neighbor/friend/shopper for much less than a contract killing.
That is what we do. That is what materialism does to you.
When you sit in that church pew on Sunday and revel in the money you saved on junk on Friday that will last only until the next upgrade or fashion trend; when the offering plate is passed, will you put the money you saved where it will do some good?
I was unaware that anyone saw me until a store clerk stopped me and said, "Thank you!"
It startled me just a bit because by that time, my mind was already on to something else. When the second clerk came up to me and thanked me profusely, it occurred to me that they thought this simple act of picking up something and hanging it back on the rack was somehow noteworthy.
The second woman said that it would be a mad house when the sales started and if I wanted to get something special I would have to get in line for a ticket and then I would be able to get just that one item.
There is nothing that I need so badly that I find it necessary to live on the sidewalk for days or even hours before the big sale just to get a hundred dollar item for a nickel. This insanity is a symptom of our warped perspective of what is truly important.
I went to one sunrise sale in 1968 with my mother. The store opened at 6:00 am and they (the shoppers) rushed through the doors like animals escaping the slaughter, only they were running into the store. They almost knocked me down.
Looking around, it appeared as though they were wounded tigers hunting for prey. I was familiar with some of these women, but the glazed look in their eyes and furtive glances about the store were eerie to say the least. I never went again.
When the news reports of people trampled in the rush to get into a sale or they show people walking on top of a woman who has been knocked down so hard that her wig falls off, I am truly appalled at what people will do to one another for a dollar. That is really all it is. We will willingly trample to death a fellow shopper just to save a dollar.
If you were asked the question, "Would you be a contract killer?" or, "Could someone pay you to kill your neighbor?" you would probably say indignantly, "Absolutely NOT!"
No, but you and that hungry mob of shoppers would trample to death and unsuspecting neighbor/friend/shopper for much less than a contract killing.
That is what we do. That is what materialism does to you.
When you sit in that church pew on Sunday and revel in the money you saved on junk on Friday that will last only until the next upgrade or fashion trend; when the offering plate is passed, will you put the money you saved where it will do some good?
Monday, November 22, 2010
Once Upon A Time In Nothing
Once upon a time in land long, long, long, long, long, long billions of years ago. Nothing existed. Nothing was full of nothing and nothing did nothing all day long because there weren't any days.
Suddenly, somewhere, out of nothing in nowhere a big explosion happened and created all of life.
Makes sense. Right? Sure it does.
You get something from nothing. It's logical, right?
Sure it is. You came from a rock. Nothing exploded and became something that was nothing but rocks and gases and a soupy goop and now it is you.
And they say that Creation by God takes faith. Creation in 6 days in a planned succession of events by a Creator, by God is far more logical than all of the laws of physics becoming unhinged for a moment in time and suddenly come back into existence.
Yeah, that's the ticket. If you believe that evolution makes sense, then I am sure there is some beach front property in Montana you can buy. I hear the surf is great this time of year.
I won't try to convince you that evolution is a scam, a shell game, a party favor at the lunatic's ball, a pipe dream designed to confuse, baffle and befuddle, a Devil's tool meant to lead people away from God.
Evolution requires faith. Evolution cannot be reproduced. No one has ever found even 1 missing link. The Creation story, theory, has remained intact for thousands of years while evolution was contrived as a possible theory just a couple hundred years ago. It was only when Darwin, misguided by his own erroneous suppositions, came out with his book, "Origin of the Species" that people started jumping on the band wagon to dispute the Bible. And that is all that it is. It is a way to try to win people away from God.
It is simply a way to get people to question God. Nothing more. It is not the truth just a lie from the Devil.
Suddenly, somewhere, out of nothing in nowhere a big explosion happened and created all of life.
Makes sense. Right? Sure it does.
You get something from nothing. It's logical, right?
Sure it is. You came from a rock. Nothing exploded and became something that was nothing but rocks and gases and a soupy goop and now it is you.
And they say that Creation by God takes faith. Creation in 6 days in a planned succession of events by a Creator, by God is far more logical than all of the laws of physics becoming unhinged for a moment in time and suddenly come back into existence.
Yeah, that's the ticket. If you believe that evolution makes sense, then I am sure there is some beach front property in Montana you can buy. I hear the surf is great this time of year.
I won't try to convince you that evolution is a scam, a shell game, a party favor at the lunatic's ball, a pipe dream designed to confuse, baffle and befuddle, a Devil's tool meant to lead people away from God.
Evolution requires faith. Evolution cannot be reproduced. No one has ever found even 1 missing link. The Creation story, theory, has remained intact for thousands of years while evolution was contrived as a possible theory just a couple hundred years ago. It was only when Darwin, misguided by his own erroneous suppositions, came out with his book, "Origin of the Species" that people started jumping on the band wagon to dispute the Bible. And that is all that it is. It is a way to try to win people away from God.
It is simply a way to get people to question God. Nothing more. It is not the truth just a lie from the Devil.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
The Conversation
I do not know how the conversation got started, but sitting at the table in the restaurant, I found myself trying to defend my view of the age of the earth. The gentleman with whom I was talking was stunned that I actually believed that the earth was created by God and was a relatively young earth.
"But what about all of the evidence supporting billions of years?"
"I don't believe it."
"But it's true."
"How do you know?"
"Because of all of the scientific evidence."
"How can you be so sure that their research is correct? There is enough evidence to refute their findings that I cannot believe they are correct in saying that the world is billions of years old."
He laughed at me. He did not do it as a loud guffaw, but more as a look. You know that look. That is the one where the eyes start to roll and are checked in progress and shut instead; where the chest draws that exasperated breath and the head wags left to right ever so slightly. That is the laugh I speak about. It is not the laugh that is publicly embarrassing.
It is the one that says silently, "This person is stupid."
We have all seen it and we've all used it. Why do we do that? Mostly to keep from getting into a raging argument when we know we are right.
The problem arises, not during the innocuous dinner conversation with an acquaintance, but when we use this type of thing during arguments, I am sorry, discussions with our spouses. That is when the conversation turns to suspicion.
"I saw that!"
"What?!"
"That look!"
"What look?!"
"You know what I'm talking about!"
Of course, you know what they are talking about, but you are not about to admit doing it. Because if you do, there is another rabbit trail to go down with a lot of dead rabbits along the way. So why do we do it? Why do we give them that look?
I can think of many reasons, but mainly I think we just get tired of the word war and we want to take a rest from it. Instead it just escalates. This might be the time when you should do what all good sports coaches do and call for a time out.
Before you ever start arguing, have an agreement with your spouse to fight fair. Have a word or a phrase or a motion that says, "I am tired. I am afraid that if I continue, I will say or do something stupid that will be hurtful and I do not want to hurt you. Can we continue this tomorrow at 8:00 pm?" Or something like that.
Have a white flag on a stick so you can wave it. Or throw a towel on the floor to show that it is time to let up and continue later when both are rested. Things look better when you are rested.
Don't go to bed angry and unresolved, but set a time to discuss hot-button issues instead of stewing about them. It helps.
"But what about all of the evidence supporting billions of years?"
"I don't believe it."
"But it's true."
"How do you know?"
"Because of all of the scientific evidence."
"How can you be so sure that their research is correct? There is enough evidence to refute their findings that I cannot believe they are correct in saying that the world is billions of years old."
He laughed at me. He did not do it as a loud guffaw, but more as a look. You know that look. That is the one where the eyes start to roll and are checked in progress and shut instead; where the chest draws that exasperated breath and the head wags left to right ever so slightly. That is the laugh I speak about. It is not the laugh that is publicly embarrassing.
It is the one that says silently, "This person is stupid."
We have all seen it and we've all used it. Why do we do that? Mostly to keep from getting into a raging argument when we know we are right.
The problem arises, not during the innocuous dinner conversation with an acquaintance, but when we use this type of thing during arguments, I am sorry, discussions with our spouses. That is when the conversation turns to suspicion.
"I saw that!"
"What?!"
"That look!"
"What look?!"
"You know what I'm talking about!"
Of course, you know what they are talking about, but you are not about to admit doing it. Because if you do, there is another rabbit trail to go down with a lot of dead rabbits along the way. So why do we do it? Why do we give them that look?
I can think of many reasons, but mainly I think we just get tired of the word war and we want to take a rest from it. Instead it just escalates. This might be the time when you should do what all good sports coaches do and call for a time out.
Before you ever start arguing, have an agreement with your spouse to fight fair. Have a word or a phrase or a motion that says, "I am tired. I am afraid that if I continue, I will say or do something stupid that will be hurtful and I do not want to hurt you. Can we continue this tomorrow at 8:00 pm?" Or something like that.
Have a white flag on a stick so you can wave it. Or throw a towel on the floor to show that it is time to let up and continue later when both are rested. Things look better when you are rested.
Don't go to bed angry and unresolved, but set a time to discuss hot-button issues instead of stewing about them. It helps.
Hanging Up The Wash
About a year ago, I thought about ways to cut our monthly expenses. One way was putting up a clothes line and drying the clothes naturally. Since we live in the country, there is no smog or pollutants to worry about.
I remembered how the whites were bleached by the sun and the clothes smelled fresh and unscented. I asked my husband to put up a clothes line. It was months after the request that the line was finally put up. There is one under the carport for those items that do not need to be sun-bleached or if clouds say rain may be on the way. There is a second line in the yard for those sheets and large items or when the sun promises to shine all day.
Drying clothes on a line produces a different effect than the automatic dryer. The clothes have fewer wrinkles and are stiffer to the touch. Towels do not do as well on the line. The dryer fluffs them so much better.
There are advantages to hanging jeans and other pants on the line. Shrinkage is almost nil and they look almost as if they have been ironed. T-shirts remind me of the time when my mother ironed everything including underwear and bed linens.
Line drying clothes is cost effective and good for the environment.
There was a time when women went to the grocer and they carried their own cloth bag with them. They used it when walking around the store and when they got to the counter, they emptied their bag and paid for their goods. They then filled up their bag and took their goods home. They hung up their bag to be used on their next shopping trip.
Then came paper bags that the grocer had at the checkout counter. They had carts that women used to gather their purchases and those goods were put in the paper sacks. The sacks were taken home, folded and used as trash cans as the need arose. They were used to line bird cages and used for many things that required a stiff piece of brown paper. Kids colored on them. They were used as masks and crowns and any number of playful things.
Plastic replaced the paper sacks and some people were irritated with the change. Plastic bags were supposed to help the environment. I never really understood how. At first, there was a choice. You could choose paper or plastic. The choice soon faded away and plastic was the only thing available. People used them as trash can liners, as sacks to carry stuff to parties. They used them to put their dirty laundry in when they go on a trip and as litter bags in the car and on the bus.
The difference between the plastic and the paper is the paper degrades over time while the plastic that is hung in a tree top by the wind during a storm is still there when the storm comes again.
No matter what they come up with the consumer will find other uses for it. The plastic tubs of whipped topping, butter and other things are used as storage bowls once the contents are used. They are used to store leftovers, seeds for next season, sewing items and anything thing that fits and needs a lid.
Humans are a resourceful lot. We come up for uses of items that are not what the manufacturer intended.
And what goes around comes around. For the past few years, there have been cloth and net bags manufactured for shoppers to use instead of plastic bags. I wonder what uses we will find for these new bags, this new idea.
I remembered how the whites were bleached by the sun and the clothes smelled fresh and unscented. I asked my husband to put up a clothes line. It was months after the request that the line was finally put up. There is one under the carport for those items that do not need to be sun-bleached or if clouds say rain may be on the way. There is a second line in the yard for those sheets and large items or when the sun promises to shine all day.
Drying clothes on a line produces a different effect than the automatic dryer. The clothes have fewer wrinkles and are stiffer to the touch. Towels do not do as well on the line. The dryer fluffs them so much better.
There are advantages to hanging jeans and other pants on the line. Shrinkage is almost nil and they look almost as if they have been ironed. T-shirts remind me of the time when my mother ironed everything including underwear and bed linens.
Line drying clothes is cost effective and good for the environment.
There was a time when women went to the grocer and they carried their own cloth bag with them. They used it when walking around the store and when they got to the counter, they emptied their bag and paid for their goods. They then filled up their bag and took their goods home. They hung up their bag to be used on their next shopping trip.
Then came paper bags that the grocer had at the checkout counter. They had carts that women used to gather their purchases and those goods were put in the paper sacks. The sacks were taken home, folded and used as trash cans as the need arose. They were used to line bird cages and used for many things that required a stiff piece of brown paper. Kids colored on them. They were used as masks and crowns and any number of playful things.
Plastic replaced the paper sacks and some people were irritated with the change. Plastic bags were supposed to help the environment. I never really understood how. At first, there was a choice. You could choose paper or plastic. The choice soon faded away and plastic was the only thing available. People used them as trash can liners, as sacks to carry stuff to parties. They used them to put their dirty laundry in when they go on a trip and as litter bags in the car and on the bus.
The difference between the plastic and the paper is the paper degrades over time while the plastic that is hung in a tree top by the wind during a storm is still there when the storm comes again.
No matter what they come up with the consumer will find other uses for it. The plastic tubs of whipped topping, butter and other things are used as storage bowls once the contents are used. They are used to store leftovers, seeds for next season, sewing items and anything thing that fits and needs a lid.
Humans are a resourceful lot. We come up for uses of items that are not what the manufacturer intended.
And what goes around comes around. For the past few years, there have been cloth and net bags manufactured for shoppers to use instead of plastic bags. I wonder what uses we will find for these new bags, this new idea.
A Bug Flew Up My Nose
At least it was not in a public place. It was at home in front of the computer. There was no one to watch me trying to get that thing out of my nose.
It reminded me of how Satan sends little things to trip us up. The flat tire you get on your way to Church, or the platter of deviled eggs that spills on the way in to the neighbor's home, or the car that cuts you off on your way to work, any of these things can set you up for an ill temper. They can ruin your day or set you up for failure if you allow it.
What the Devil knows is that when the big things happen, you turn to the Lord for help. It's the little things that he uses to knock you down and ruin your testimony. These are the little foxes in the vineyard that rip away at you bit by bit. You barely notice the first few nips. It isn't until they start hurting deeply and that pencil lead breaking sends you into tears or into a rage that you finally realize that something is wrong.
There is only one way to insure that these little things do not wear you down and that is to depend upon the Lord in all things, not simply the deaths and job losses, but the toe-stubbers and the hang-nails as well.
If you are close to the Lord always through the small things, you will have less trouble. He tells us that we must be faithful in the small things before we are entrusted with the larger things. The parable of those who are given the ruler's money to care for, where one was given one coin and he hid it in the ground giving it neither increase nor decrease. He was rebuked for his distrust of the Master and lost what he had.
How often do we show our lack of faith and our distrust of The Messiah? We hold our own opinions and feelings above His Word, above His Promise.
When did you first turn away? Was it when you did not read His Word that first day after years of faithful reading? Was it when that Elder's wife first gossiped about you, or was it to you and you listened?
It really does not matter when it was or what happened to cause it. He has forgiven you. He died upon the cross to forgive you of that and all the other sins you have committed. When you accepted Him as Lord and Saviour, He forgave you. Your sins were washed away by His Supreme Sacrifice on the Cross at Golgatha. He loves you. He died for you. You cannot outdo nor out give The Messiah, Yeshua, The Christ, The Only Begotten Son of God, Jesus of Nazareth.
You can only run back to Him, ask for the Forgiveness that He has already given you and be content with The Lord. He is The Peace that passes understanding.
Shalom.
It reminded me of how Satan sends little things to trip us up. The flat tire you get on your way to Church, or the platter of deviled eggs that spills on the way in to the neighbor's home, or the car that cuts you off on your way to work, any of these things can set you up for an ill temper. They can ruin your day or set you up for failure if you allow it.
What the Devil knows is that when the big things happen, you turn to the Lord for help. It's the little things that he uses to knock you down and ruin your testimony. These are the little foxes in the vineyard that rip away at you bit by bit. You barely notice the first few nips. It isn't until they start hurting deeply and that pencil lead breaking sends you into tears or into a rage that you finally realize that something is wrong.
There is only one way to insure that these little things do not wear you down and that is to depend upon the Lord in all things, not simply the deaths and job losses, but the toe-stubbers and the hang-nails as well.
If you are close to the Lord always through the small things, you will have less trouble. He tells us that we must be faithful in the small things before we are entrusted with the larger things. The parable of those who are given the ruler's money to care for, where one was given one coin and he hid it in the ground giving it neither increase nor decrease. He was rebuked for his distrust of the Master and lost what he had.
How often do we show our lack of faith and our distrust of The Messiah? We hold our own opinions and feelings above His Word, above His Promise.
When did you first turn away? Was it when you did not read His Word that first day after years of faithful reading? Was it when that Elder's wife first gossiped about you, or was it to you and you listened?
It really does not matter when it was or what happened to cause it. He has forgiven you. He died upon the cross to forgive you of that and all the other sins you have committed. When you accepted Him as Lord and Saviour, He forgave you. Your sins were washed away by His Supreme Sacrifice on the Cross at Golgatha. He loves you. He died for you. You cannot outdo nor out give The Messiah, Yeshua, The Christ, The Only Begotten Son of God, Jesus of Nazareth.
You can only run back to Him, ask for the Forgiveness that He has already given you and be content with The Lord. He is The Peace that passes understanding.
Shalom.
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Friday, November 19, 2010
Prison
I can honestly say that I have never been to prison and never been inclined to do anything that would put me there. But there has been bondage which is a type of prison.
The gray, dank walls of my cell were built with fear from deep within. The floors were solidly composed of despair. The ceiling was constructed of the finest apathy. Windows were blocked with curtains of depression while matching throw rugs of dreams lost and anxiety lay loosely upon the floor. A coarse black sofa filled with the prickly cactus needles of distrust finished the scene. I stood there clothed in a garment of indifference desiring I don't know what and it did not matter.
That is the kind of prison that requires no outside abuser to torture the pained soul. The walls can only be breached from within by the occupant. The door was never locked. It never mattered that there never was a door, just a simple doorway with a view.
It is difficult to see the view if your back is never turned toward the portal. It helps if someone comes to the doorway and knocks to draw your attention toward the light. Scripture speaks of visiting those in prison. While the reference is most likely toward those in a cell with concrete or stone walls, it could be used for those who are imprisoned by their own fear or desperation or mental state.
That friend you haven't seen in a while, the one who did not speak, where was their mind? Was it off tending to its garden of weeds and choking vines?
You, who were rescued from prison, have you forgotten what put you there and how you escaped? Have you passed on your good fortune or simply folded the memory and pressed it like a flower in a book?
Too often, I forget the ones who need a simple word of encouragement. I forget how deep the well is. I forget the stench of despair and how exhilarating it is when someone called or came by with the sweet incense of kindness.
Don't give up. You are loved. Pass it on.
Shalom. May God's Grace shine abundantly upon you.
The gray, dank walls of my cell were built with fear from deep within. The floors were solidly composed of despair. The ceiling was constructed of the finest apathy. Windows were blocked with curtains of depression while matching throw rugs of dreams lost and anxiety lay loosely upon the floor. A coarse black sofa filled with the prickly cactus needles of distrust finished the scene. I stood there clothed in a garment of indifference desiring I don't know what and it did not matter.
That is the kind of prison that requires no outside abuser to torture the pained soul. The walls can only be breached from within by the occupant. The door was never locked. It never mattered that there never was a door, just a simple doorway with a view.
It is difficult to see the view if your back is never turned toward the portal. It helps if someone comes to the doorway and knocks to draw your attention toward the light. Scripture speaks of visiting those in prison. While the reference is most likely toward those in a cell with concrete or stone walls, it could be used for those who are imprisoned by their own fear or desperation or mental state.
That friend you haven't seen in a while, the one who did not speak, where was their mind? Was it off tending to its garden of weeds and choking vines?
You, who were rescued from prison, have you forgotten what put you there and how you escaped? Have you passed on your good fortune or simply folded the memory and pressed it like a flower in a book?
Too often, I forget the ones who need a simple word of encouragement. I forget how deep the well is. I forget the stench of despair and how exhilarating it is when someone called or came by with the sweet incense of kindness.
Don't give up. You are loved. Pass it on.
Shalom. May God's Grace shine abundantly upon you.
Texting and Chatting
I do neither with one exception. That exception is my son. I will chat with him online.
Chatting and texting have their place. They are convenient and a quick way to convey information. Personally, I need to see who it is I am conversing with. Facial expressions often will tell you more than the spoken word and so much more than the written word.
The written word can be misinterpreted far too easily and just who is that person on the other end? The only text message I have received in the past year was from a friend who texts regularly and I never responded. I was driving at the time and by the time I stopped to see what it was, I was at her house.
I get text messages from my cell phone provider and texts from wrong numbers.
That brings up the other possibility. Just who is that person you are chatting/texting with? Just because it is a familiar number does not mean that you know who is on the other line. I do not chat with strangers or people I have just met online or new friends on Facebook. It's a policy of mine.
There is nothing more frightening than realizing you have been speaking with someone who has just gotten a lot of personal information from you and you really don't know this person. And that was in person.
Chatting online gives one a sense of freedom that between a man and a woman should be reserved for husband and wife. We tend to be more relaxed in front of a screen and say something mildly suggestive that only serves to open doors that should remain closed. The same goes for texting. The same people that would never go to a bar without their spouse or strike up unwarranted conversations at the office with an attractive co-worker will do it easily on the internet and consider it harmless. It is not harmless. It is a pathway to discontent and allows you to talk about things that you should be discussing with your spouse.
Chatting and texting do not use enough words to suit me and the words that are used are a different language of parsed words and right now I don't want to learn a new language.
Chatting and texting have their place. They are convenient and a quick way to convey information. Personally, I need to see who it is I am conversing with. Facial expressions often will tell you more than the spoken word and so much more than the written word.
The written word can be misinterpreted far too easily and just who is that person on the other end? The only text message I have received in the past year was from a friend who texts regularly and I never responded. I was driving at the time and by the time I stopped to see what it was, I was at her house.
I get text messages from my cell phone provider and texts from wrong numbers.
That brings up the other possibility. Just who is that person you are chatting/texting with? Just because it is a familiar number does not mean that you know who is on the other line. I do not chat with strangers or people I have just met online or new friends on Facebook. It's a policy of mine.
There is nothing more frightening than realizing you have been speaking with someone who has just gotten a lot of personal information from you and you really don't know this person. And that was in person.
Chatting online gives one a sense of freedom that between a man and a woman should be reserved for husband and wife. We tend to be more relaxed in front of a screen and say something mildly suggestive that only serves to open doors that should remain closed. The same goes for texting. The same people that would never go to a bar without their spouse or strike up unwarranted conversations at the office with an attractive co-worker will do it easily on the internet and consider it harmless. It is not harmless. It is a pathway to discontent and allows you to talk about things that you should be discussing with your spouse.
Chatting and texting do not use enough words to suit me and the words that are used are a different language of parsed words and right now I don't want to learn a new language.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Evolution Means Humans Should Be Getting Smarter?
All you folks that believe in evolution think we are improving, right? I don't think so. At least not in the United States of America. There may be some small pockets of brilliance out there, but if the government has control of the schools and the teachers are controlled by unions, the majority of the public schools are in deep trouble.
I have a great deal of empathy for teachers. The good ones are dedicated professionals who spend much of their personal time working on their class planning, sometimes tutoring students, talking to parents and spending an unfortunate amount of time doing paperwork for the government. While I agree that there should be uniformity within the school system, I feel that the government is now an intruder in the classroom and it needs to back off.
Children should be learning more at home than they are. Schools cannot and should not be burdened with the total task of teaching. Unfortunately, many parents are ill equipped to handle even teaching their small children the alphabet or how to count to 20. It really is not their fault, but the fault of their great grandparents for allowing the downfall of the public school system to begin in the first place.
If we are getting smarter, we should be doing at least the following:
1. Studying Latin, Greek, French and Spanish by at least age 9
2. Begin mastering a musical instrument
3. By age 14 students should be studying history and science intensely
4. Age 16 students should be entering college where the study of mathematics and other studies as preparation for law school or another profession.
5. Be admitted to the Bar by age 23.
Much of the reason that we are not progressing, has nothing to do with evolution. We, the adults, have made it a point to allow children to be children. Life is so tough out there that they need to have fun while they are still children.
Really? At what point do we cease raising children? This philosophy has created a group of children who never leave home because life is just too tough. We do not need to be raising children. We need to be grooming our offspring for adulthood. When do you teach them to handle money? You teach them as soon as they ask you what it is, which could be age 2 or 3. Start then. They won't be dealing with a profit and loss statement until they get their first lemonade stand.
Insisting that children remain children for as long as possible is just plain asinine. Do you want your puppies and kittens to remain immature for years? Of course not. If you want a good pet, you start training them right away. At least treat your children as well as you treat your pets.
So, why do I think we have fallen way behind?
Many years ago a young man did the following:
1. Studied Latin, Greek and French at age 9, learned to properly ride horses, learned to play the violin,
2. Age 14 studied history and science
3. At the age of 16 attended the College of William and Mary and studied mathematics, metaphysics and philosophy
4. Studied law and was admitted to the bar at age 23
His name was Thomas Jefferson. It was the same Thomas Jefferson that helped draft the Declaration of Independence at age 33 in 1776. That was more than 200 years ago.
If evolution works so well, why are we getting dumber?
I do not believe in evolution of any kind. I believe that God spoke the earth and everything into existence in a state of maturity. In other words, the chicken (a plump, mature chicken) came first, not the egg.
I have a great deal of empathy for teachers. The good ones are dedicated professionals who spend much of their personal time working on their class planning, sometimes tutoring students, talking to parents and spending an unfortunate amount of time doing paperwork for the government. While I agree that there should be uniformity within the school system, I feel that the government is now an intruder in the classroom and it needs to back off.
Children should be learning more at home than they are. Schools cannot and should not be burdened with the total task of teaching. Unfortunately, many parents are ill equipped to handle even teaching their small children the alphabet or how to count to 20. It really is not their fault, but the fault of their great grandparents for allowing the downfall of the public school system to begin in the first place.
If we are getting smarter, we should be doing at least the following:
1. Studying Latin, Greek, French and Spanish by at least age 9
2. Begin mastering a musical instrument
3. By age 14 students should be studying history and science intensely
4. Age 16 students should be entering college where the study of mathematics and other studies as preparation for law school or another profession.
5. Be admitted to the Bar by age 23.
Much of the reason that we are not progressing, has nothing to do with evolution. We, the adults, have made it a point to allow children to be children. Life is so tough out there that they need to have fun while they are still children.
Really? At what point do we cease raising children? This philosophy has created a group of children who never leave home because life is just too tough. We do not need to be raising children. We need to be grooming our offspring for adulthood. When do you teach them to handle money? You teach them as soon as they ask you what it is, which could be age 2 or 3. Start then. They won't be dealing with a profit and loss statement until they get their first lemonade stand.
Insisting that children remain children for as long as possible is just plain asinine. Do you want your puppies and kittens to remain immature for years? Of course not. If you want a good pet, you start training them right away. At least treat your children as well as you treat your pets.
So, why do I think we have fallen way behind?
Many years ago a young man did the following:
1. Studied Latin, Greek and French at age 9, learned to properly ride horses, learned to play the violin,
2. Age 14 studied history and science
3. At the age of 16 attended the College of William and Mary and studied mathematics, metaphysics and philosophy
4. Studied law and was admitted to the bar at age 23
His name was Thomas Jefferson. It was the same Thomas Jefferson that helped draft the Declaration of Independence at age 33 in 1776. That was more than 200 years ago.
If evolution works so well, why are we getting dumber?
I do not believe in evolution of any kind. I believe that God spoke the earth and everything into existence in a state of maturity. In other words, the chicken (a plump, mature chicken) came first, not the egg.
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