Behold:
I guess there's at least one "nice" one among those. *wink-grin* They certainly captured a "moment in time," right?
A little Easter "ham" to go with your photos? We've got one. His name is Ethan.
Sunday, April 08, 2012
Happy Easter!
Exactly how many photos does it take to get at least one good Easter photo with all three kids smiling and looking the same way?
Behold:
Behold:
Saturday, April 07, 2012
Twas the Night Before...
Easter!
And it's time to dye eggs!
Some family fun with food coloring and crayons. It was Ethan's first time to join in the fun! And I think he caught on very quickly.
And it's time to dye eggs!
Some family fun with food coloring and crayons. It was Ethan's first time to join in the fun! And I think he caught on very quickly.
Friday, April 06, 2012
GOOD Friday!
It’s the end of the most significant week in the history of the world.
A week of final moments. Jesus and the apostles’ last meal together. The last time Jesus prays in the Garden. The concluding confrontation with enemies. The final encounter with pain.
And the last event. . . a daring display of unleashed divine power. The entombed Savior unbound by a holy explosion. What was a sepulcher is now a symbol…landmarking the greatest victory in the most crucial battle.
A week of final moments. A week of endings.
Or is it the beginning. . . .?
When I was a young boy I was part of a church corps which took communion to the shutins and hospitalized. We visited those who were unable to come to church but still desired to pray and partake of communion. I must have been ten or eleven years of age when we went to one hospital room that housed an elderly gentleman who was very weak. He was asleep so we tried to wake him. We couldn’t. We shook him, we spoke to him, we tapped him on the shoulder, but we couldn’t stir him.
We hated to leave without performing our duty, but we didn’t know what to do.
One of the young guys with me observed that even though the man was asleep his mouth was open. Why not? We said. So we prayed over the cracker and stuck a piece on his tongue.
Then we prayed over the grape juice and poured it down his mouth.
He never woke up.
Neither do many today. For some communion is a sleepy hour in which wafers are eaten and juice is drunk and the soul never stirs. It wasn’t intended to be as such.
It was intended to be an I-can’t-believe-it’s-me-pinch-me-I’m-dreaming invitation to sit at God’s table and be served by the King himself.
When you read Matthew’s account of the Last Supper, one incredible truth surfaces.
Jesus is the person behind it all. It was Jesus who selected the place, designated the time, and set the meal in order. "The chosen time is near. I will have the Passover with my followers at your house."
And at the Supper, Jesus is not the guest, but the host. “And [Jesus] gave to the disciples.” The subject of the verbs is the message of the event: “he took…he blessed…he broke…he gave….”
And, at the Supper, Jesus is not the served, but the servant. It is Jesus who during the supper put on the garb of a servant and washed the disciples’ feet.
Jesus is the most active one at the table. Jesus is not portrayed as the one who reclines and receives, but as the one who stands and gives.
He still does. The Lord’s Supper is a gift to you. The Lord’s Supper is a sacrament, not a sacrifice.
Often, we think of the Supper as a performance, a time when we are on stage and God is the audience. A ceremony in which we do the work and he does the watching. That’s not how it was intended. If it was, Jesus would have taken his seat at the table and relaxed.
That’s not what he did. He, instead, fulfilled his role as a rabbi by guiding his disciples through the Passover. He fulfilled his role as a servant by washing their feet. And he fulfilled his role as a Savior by granting them forgiveness of sins.
He was in charge. He was on center stage. He was the person behind and in the moment.
And he still is.
It is the Lord’s table you sit at. It is the Lord’s Supper you eat. Just as Jesus prayed for disciples, Jesus begs God for us.6 When you are called to the table, it might be an emissary who gives the letter, but it is Jesus who wrote it.
It is a Holy invitation. A sacred sacrament begging you to leave the chores of life and enter his splendor.
He meets you at the table.
And when bread is broken, Christ breaks it. When the wine is poured, Christ pours it.
And when your burdens are lifted, it is because the King in the apron has drawn near.
Think about that the next time you go to the table.
One last thought.
But they are sacrifices of thanksgiving as a salvation received, not sacrifices of service for a salvation desired. We don’t say, “Look what I have done.” We instead, in awe, watch God and worship what he has done.
Both Luther and Calvin had strong convictions regarding the proper view of the Lord’s Supper.
“Out of the sacrament and testament of God, which ought to be a good guest received, they (the religious leaders) have made up for themselves A good deed performed.” (Martin Luther, Luther’s Works American Edition, 36:49)
“He (Jesus) bids the disciples to take: He himself, therefore is the only one who offers. When the priests pretend that they offer Christ in the Supper, they are starting from quite another source. What a wonderful case of topsyturvy, that a mortal man to deserve the body of Christ should snatch himself to the role of offering it.” (John Calvin, A Harmony of the Gospels, 1:133.)
What happens on earth is just a warm-up for what will happen in heaven. So the next time the messenger calls you to the table, drop what you are doing and go. Be blessed and be fed and, most importantly, be sure you’re still eating at his table when he calls us home.
It's nearly midnight when they leave the upper room and descend through the streets of the city. They pass the Lower Pool and exit the Fountain Gate and walk out of Jerusalem. The roads are lined with the fires and tents of Passover pilgrims. Most are asleep, heavied with the evening meal. Those still awake think little of the band of men walking the chalky road.
They pass through the valley and ascend the path which will take them to Gethsemane.
The road is steep so they stop to rest. Somewhere within the city walls the twelfth apostle darts down a street. His feet have been washed by the man he will betray. His heart has been claimed by the Evil One he has heard. He runs to find Caiaphas.
The final encounter of the battle has begun.
As Jesus looks at the city of Jerusalem, he sees what the disciples can’t. It is here, on the outskirts of Jerusalem, that the battle will end. He sees the staging of Satan. He sees the dashing of the demons. He sees the Evil One preparing for the final encounter. The enemy looks as a spectre over the hour. Satan, the host of hatred, has seized the heart of Judas and whispered in the ear of Caiaphas. Satan, the master of death, has opened the caverns and prepared to receive the source of light.
Hell is breaking loose.
History records it as the battle of the Jews against Jesus. It wasn’t. It was a battle of God against Satan.
And Jesus knew it. Jesus knew that before the war was over, he would be taken captive.
He knew that before victory would come defeat. He knew that before the throne would come the cup. He knew that before the light of Sunday would come the blackness of Friday.
And he is afraid.
He turns and begins the final ascent into the garden. When he reaches the entry he stops and turns his eyes toward his circle of friends. It will be the last time he sees them before they abandon him. He knows what they will do when the soldiers come. He knows their betrayal is only minutes away.
But he doesn’t accuse. He doesn’t lecture. Instead, he prays. His last moments with his disciples are in prayer. And the words he speaks are as eternal as the stars which hear them.
Imagine, for a moment, yourself in this situation. Your final hour with a son about to be sent overseas. Your last moments with your dying spouse. One last visit with your parent. What do you say? What do you do? What words do you choose?
It’s worth noting that Jesus chose prayer. He chose to pray for us. "I pray for these men. But I am also praying for all people who will believe in me because of the teaching of these men. Father, I pray that all people who believe in me can be one . . . I pray that these people can also be one in us, so that the world will believe that you sent me."
You need to note that in this final prayer, Jesus prayed for you. You need to underline in red and highlight in yellow his love: "I am also praying for all people who believe in me because of the teaching." That is you. As Jesus stepped into the garden, you were in his prayer. As Jesus looked into heaven, you were in his vision. As Jesus dreamed of the day when we will be where he is, he saw you there.
His final prayer was about you. His final pain was for you. His final passion was you.
He then turns, steps into the garden, and invites Peter, James, and John to come. He tells them his soul is "overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death," and begins to pray.
Never has he felt so alone. What must be done, only can he do. An angel can’t do it. No angel has the power to break open hell’s gates. A man can’t do it. No man has the purity to destroy sin’s claim. No force on earth can face the force of evil and win—except God.
"The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak," Jesus confesses.
His humanity begged to be delivered from what his divinity could see. Jesus, the carpenter, implores. Jesus, the man, peers into the dark pit and begs, "Can’t there be another way?"
Did he know the answer before he asked the question? Did his human heart hope his heavenly father had found another way? We don’t know. But we do know he asked to get out.
We do know he begged for an exit. We do know there was a time when if he could have, he would have turned his head back on the whole mess and gone away.
But he couldn’t.
He couldn’t because he saw you. Right there in the middle of a world which isn’t fair. He saw you cast into a river of life which you didn’t request. He saw you betrayed by those you love. He saw with a body which gets sick and a heart that grows weak.
He saw you in your own garden of gnarled trees and sleeping friends. He saw you staring into the pit of your own failures and the mouth of your own grave.
He saw you in your Garden of Gethsemane—and he didn’t want you to be alone.
He wanted you to know that he has been there, too. He knows what it’s like to be plotted against.
He knows what it’s like to be confused. He knows what it’s like to be torn between two desires.
He knows what it’s like to smell the stench of Satan. And, perhaps most of all, he knows what it’s like to beg God to change his mind and to hear God say so gently, but firmly, "No."
For that is what God said to Jesus. And Jesus accepts the answer. At some moment during that midnight hour an angel of mercy comes over the weary body of the man in the garden. As he stands, the anguish is gone from his eyes. His fist will clench no more. His heart will fight no more.
The battle is won. You may have thought it was won on Golgotha. It wasn’t. The final battle was won in Gethsemane. And the sign of conquest is Jesus at peace in the olive trees.
For it was in the garden that he made his decision. He would rather go to hell for you than go to heaven without you.
Read the rest at: http://www.maxlucado.com/pdf/passion.pain.promise.pdf and http://www.maxlucado.com/
A week of final moments. Jesus and the apostles’ last meal together. The last time Jesus prays in the Garden. The concluding confrontation with enemies. The final encounter with pain.
And the last event. . . a daring display of unleashed divine power. The entombed Savior unbound by a holy explosion. What was a sepulcher is now a symbol…landmarking the greatest victory in the most crucial battle.
A week of final moments. A week of endings.
Or is it the beginning. . . .?
Chapter One
When I was a young boy I was part of a church corps which took communion to the shutins and hospitalized. We visited those who were unable to come to church but still desired to pray and partake of communion. I must have been ten or eleven years of age when we went to one hospital room that housed an elderly gentleman who was very weak. He was asleep so we tried to wake him. We couldn’t. We shook him, we spoke to him, we tapped him on the shoulder, but we couldn’t stir him.
We hated to leave without performing our duty, but we didn’t know what to do.
One of the young guys with me observed that even though the man was asleep his mouth was open. Why not? We said. So we prayed over the cracker and stuck a piece on his tongue.
Then we prayed over the grape juice and poured it down his mouth.
He never woke up.
Neither do many today. For some communion is a sleepy hour in which wafers are eaten and juice is drunk and the soul never stirs. It wasn’t intended to be as such.
It was intended to be an I-can’t-believe-it’s-me-pinch-me-I’m-dreaming invitation to sit at God’s table and be served by the King himself.
When you read Matthew’s account of the Last Supper, one incredible truth surfaces.
Jesus is the person behind it all. It was Jesus who selected the place, designated the time, and set the meal in order. "The chosen time is near. I will have the Passover with my followers at your house."
And at the Supper, Jesus is not the guest, but the host. “And [Jesus] gave to the disciples.” The subject of the verbs is the message of the event: “he took…he blessed…he broke…he gave….”
And, at the Supper, Jesus is not the served, but the servant. It is Jesus who during the supper put on the garb of a servant and washed the disciples’ feet.
Jesus is the most active one at the table. Jesus is not portrayed as the one who reclines and receives, but as the one who stands and gives.
He still does. The Lord’s Supper is a gift to you. The Lord’s Supper is a sacrament, not a sacrifice.
Often, we think of the Supper as a performance, a time when we are on stage and God is the audience. A ceremony in which we do the work and he does the watching. That’s not how it was intended. If it was, Jesus would have taken his seat at the table and relaxed.
That’s not what he did. He, instead, fulfilled his role as a rabbi by guiding his disciples through the Passover. He fulfilled his role as a servant by washing their feet. And he fulfilled his role as a Savior by granting them forgiveness of sins.
He was in charge. He was on center stage. He was the person behind and in the moment.
And he still is.
It is the Lord’s table you sit at. It is the Lord’s Supper you eat. Just as Jesus prayed for disciples, Jesus begs God for us.6 When you are called to the table, it might be an emissary who gives the letter, but it is Jesus who wrote it.
It is a Holy invitation. A sacred sacrament begging you to leave the chores of life and enter his splendor.
He meets you at the table.
And when bread is broken, Christ breaks it. When the wine is poured, Christ pours it.
And when your burdens are lifted, it is because the King in the apron has drawn near.
Think about that the next time you go to the table.
One last thought.
But they are sacrifices of thanksgiving as a salvation received, not sacrifices of service for a salvation desired. We don’t say, “Look what I have done.” We instead, in awe, watch God and worship what he has done.
Both Luther and Calvin had strong convictions regarding the proper view of the Lord’s Supper.
“Out of the sacrament and testament of God, which ought to be a good guest received, they (the religious leaders) have made up for themselves A good deed performed.” (Martin Luther, Luther’s Works American Edition, 36:49)
“He (Jesus) bids the disciples to take: He himself, therefore is the only one who offers. When the priests pretend that they offer Christ in the Supper, they are starting from quite another source. What a wonderful case of topsyturvy, that a mortal man to deserve the body of Christ should snatch himself to the role of offering it.” (John Calvin, A Harmony of the Gospels, 1:133.)
What happens on earth is just a warm-up for what will happen in heaven. So the next time the messenger calls you to the table, drop what you are doing and go. Be blessed and be fed and, most importantly, be sure you’re still eating at his table when he calls us home.
Chapter Two
It's nearly midnight when they leave the upper room and descend through the streets of the city. They pass the Lower Pool and exit the Fountain Gate and walk out of Jerusalem. The roads are lined with the fires and tents of Passover pilgrims. Most are asleep, heavied with the evening meal. Those still awake think little of the band of men walking the chalky road.
They pass through the valley and ascend the path which will take them to Gethsemane.
The road is steep so they stop to rest. Somewhere within the city walls the twelfth apostle darts down a street. His feet have been washed by the man he will betray. His heart has been claimed by the Evil One he has heard. He runs to find Caiaphas.
The final encounter of the battle has begun.
As Jesus looks at the city of Jerusalem, he sees what the disciples can’t. It is here, on the outskirts of Jerusalem, that the battle will end. He sees the staging of Satan. He sees the dashing of the demons. He sees the Evil One preparing for the final encounter. The enemy looks as a spectre over the hour. Satan, the host of hatred, has seized the heart of Judas and whispered in the ear of Caiaphas. Satan, the master of death, has opened the caverns and prepared to receive the source of light.
Hell is breaking loose.
History records it as the battle of the Jews against Jesus. It wasn’t. It was a battle of God against Satan.
And Jesus knew it. Jesus knew that before the war was over, he would be taken captive.
He knew that before victory would come defeat. He knew that before the throne would come the cup. He knew that before the light of Sunday would come the blackness of Friday.
And he is afraid.
He turns and begins the final ascent into the garden. When he reaches the entry he stops and turns his eyes toward his circle of friends. It will be the last time he sees them before they abandon him. He knows what they will do when the soldiers come. He knows their betrayal is only minutes away.
But he doesn’t accuse. He doesn’t lecture. Instead, he prays. His last moments with his disciples are in prayer. And the words he speaks are as eternal as the stars which hear them.
Imagine, for a moment, yourself in this situation. Your final hour with a son about to be sent overseas. Your last moments with your dying spouse. One last visit with your parent. What do you say? What do you do? What words do you choose?
It’s worth noting that Jesus chose prayer. He chose to pray for us. "I pray for these men. But I am also praying for all people who will believe in me because of the teaching of these men. Father, I pray that all people who believe in me can be one . . . I pray that these people can also be one in us, so that the world will believe that you sent me."
You need to note that in this final prayer, Jesus prayed for you. You need to underline in red and highlight in yellow his love: "I am also praying for all people who believe in me because of the teaching." That is you. As Jesus stepped into the garden, you were in his prayer. As Jesus looked into heaven, you were in his vision. As Jesus dreamed of the day when we will be where he is, he saw you there.
His final prayer was about you. His final pain was for you. His final passion was you.
He then turns, steps into the garden, and invites Peter, James, and John to come. He tells them his soul is "overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death," and begins to pray.
Never has he felt so alone. What must be done, only can he do. An angel can’t do it. No angel has the power to break open hell’s gates. A man can’t do it. No man has the purity to destroy sin’s claim. No force on earth can face the force of evil and win—except God.
"The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak," Jesus confesses.
His humanity begged to be delivered from what his divinity could see. Jesus, the carpenter, implores. Jesus, the man, peers into the dark pit and begs, "Can’t there be another way?"
Did he know the answer before he asked the question? Did his human heart hope his heavenly father had found another way? We don’t know. But we do know he asked to get out.
We do know he begged for an exit. We do know there was a time when if he could have, he would have turned his head back on the whole mess and gone away.
But he couldn’t.
He couldn’t because he saw you. Right there in the middle of a world which isn’t fair. He saw you cast into a river of life which you didn’t request. He saw you betrayed by those you love. He saw with a body which gets sick and a heart that grows weak.
He saw you in your own garden of gnarled trees and sleeping friends. He saw you staring into the pit of your own failures and the mouth of your own grave.
He saw you in your Garden of Gethsemane—and he didn’t want you to be alone.
He wanted you to know that he has been there, too. He knows what it’s like to be plotted against.
He knows what it’s like to be confused. He knows what it’s like to be torn between two desires.
He knows what it’s like to smell the stench of Satan. And, perhaps most of all, he knows what it’s like to beg God to change his mind and to hear God say so gently, but firmly, "No."
For that is what God said to Jesus. And Jesus accepts the answer. At some moment during that midnight hour an angel of mercy comes over the weary body of the man in the garden. As he stands, the anguish is gone from his eyes. His fist will clench no more. His heart will fight no more.
The battle is won. You may have thought it was won on Golgotha. It wasn’t. The final battle was won in Gethsemane. And the sign of conquest is Jesus at peace in the olive trees.
For it was in the garden that he made his decision. He would rather go to hell for you than go to heaven without you.
Read the rest at: http://www.maxlucado.com/pdf/passion.pain.promise.pdf and http://www.maxlucado.com/
Thursday, April 05, 2012
Wednesday, April 04, 2012
Tuesday, April 03, 2012
Changes, Changes Everywhere
Anyone who knows me well knows that I
Okay. That's putting it a bit mildly, but you get the point.
So enter the technological world for which everyone seems to have to defend or prove he/she deserves his/her particular job by creating not one, not two, but hundreds of changes to the design, the look, the features, the app. Whatever. You name it, and they seem to be changing it. From user friendly to...user fiendly.
I caved on Facebook and Twitter. While I don't use the latter very often, they gave up on my changing voluntarily to the new design, and in my absence they just changed me over. I visit every now and again so I'll learn the new stuff, I suppose. Facebook made some big changes from "profile" to "timeline," and I was digging my heels in against changing because I honestly think the new design is stupid, er, um, stinky. It looks clumsy and haphazard. But, again, I ended up changing over...before they decided what my timeline page should look like.
And now when I came back to Blogger...
I've enjoyed using Blogger for the past 7 years. There have been some changes here and there, but nothing I couldn't seem to master in an afternoon. As I remained on the old templates, too afraid of losing data to switch to a new one, I noticed that there were some pretty cool features that I was missing out on.
Then I noticed a little notice on the "dashboard" about big changes (!!) coming in April.
That's this month...
So: voila! Enter the new and improved (?) "Writer's Block."
Hmm...I'm not so sure about the improved part yet.
But if you'll pardon the "dust," I'll do my best to get back into the blog world. It's been awhile...so I may have to do a little extra "dusting" in my head, as well.
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
Happiness Is...a Half-Birthday
Ethan Samuel turned 3 1/2 today.
3.5
42 months old.
...nearly 4.
That's what he tells people when they ask him how old he is.
"I'm three-and-a-half. But I'm working on 4."
Warms your heart, huh?
3.5
42 months old.
...nearly 4.
That's what he tells people when they ask him how old he is.
"I'm three-and-a-half. But I'm working on 4."
Warms your heart, huh?
Monday, March 12, 2012
The Marriage Secret...
Don't tell anyone this...
But I'm about to tell you the secret of a good marriage......
..................
I don't believe that we possess any secret to a good marriage.
When Stuart and I did our premarital counselling, the pastor said that there would be ups and downs...topics that were hard to deal with and kids and time issues...and...and...
It was enough to make a person second-guess the idea of getting married.
But if you can face all that (and more), then you're on your way to a good marriage, right?
Wrong.
God is what makes a good marriage, our pastor went on to say. If He is the center of it all then the rest will "fall into place."
Easy, right?
Wrong.
One of the studies we participated in while at our old church was on the Gary Smalley book, Love Is a Decision. (Awesome book if you've never read it!)
Love and marriage take work. There's never a moment when you can just slack off and say, "Forget it. He (or she) can love me now. I'm so finished." It's tempting at times...but very damaging.
Smalley said that love is a decision that we must make moment by moment. Sometimes we'll make the right choice...sometimes we won't.
But it's a choice.
Love is more than just saying "I love you."
It's choosing to make time for each other...as hard as that is sometimes. It's not being satisfied with the status quo.
But it's also the giving of time.
Sometimes we need those moments to be alone, especially after a grueling day of work or with the kids. It's allowing that person some space to regroup and "rejuice" away from the hubbub of family life.
And it's building specialness into the ordinary, seeing the beauty where it might not be visible in a flashy neon way and finding the fun in the simple stuff.
Stuart and I decided before we ever had kids that we would try to make time for each other after they went to bed. That meant that they needed to go to bed at a slightly earlier hour than most of their peers -- ie. what our parents would have considered the normal bedtime hour. It didn't always happen (especially if sleep claimed us soon after they went to bed), and it took some practice as we incorporated each one of them into our families' routine.
Sometimes it even meant that we had to change around our own routine... do "our time" while they were still awake, chat over a cup of coffee and a special "adult dessert" while they played together upstairs.
It was never that we didn't want to spend the time with them. We've made family dinnertimes a priority since Day 1. But we knew we needed that time together...alone.
Easy?
Nope.
Over the nearly 16 years that we've been married, we've had many times when MDT (Mommy-Daddy Time) got thrown out the window. We were too busy, too tired, too whatever.
But we always come back to the idea that we have to find, no, make the time to be together.
In recent years, it started again with the show, 24. That became our Monday night time together after the kids went to bed. But as the seasons wrapped up, we realized that we would no longer have that time together. So Stuart suggested a "movie night" for us. We would take turns each week to choose a movie that we wanted to share with the other. Fun times, especially when Redbox sent us free movie rentals!
Then came another blessing.
Emily turned 13 and took a babysitting course. We realized that a great way for her to practice was to "babysit" her brothers for us for an hour or so each week. We made that our "game night" at Starbucks. So now she's 14, and she earns a bit of money, and we have some more fun MDT. Sometimes she even does it twice a week.
Win-win, right?
Love is what we all crave. It's how God created us.
And I, for one, am really glad!!
Sunday, March 11, 2012
A Disservice to a Service...
When we think that kids in a youth group setting are a-okay because they come from a stable Christian home, we do them a tremendous disservice and make them feel unworthy of being in the group. We're saying: "You're okay. You don't need our help. So just join us in helping this poor person over here."These kinds of kids don't have needs? They don't have hurts or stresses or requests that are worthy of our prayers?
Why? Because they seem to have it all together?
Hmm...
I had a professor in university once who said that we are all on the edge of insanity. Some are probably closer than others. But he's right. Everything -- good and bad -- that we encounter every day goes into our psyches. The news, the people around us, a book we're reading, a movie we recently viewed, the argument of a neighbor....
When we focus all our energies on the seemingly "bad and needy" kids in the group, we may actually be ignoring those who are more needy. When we love the "popular" and more lovable kids and ignore the quiet and "less lovable" kids, in essence, we've pushed the latter away, telling them that they don't matter.
Our service is to God. He sent His Son to love the unpopular and unlovable, and yet he didn't ignore anyone.
He calls us to do the same: LOVE EVERYONE.
Everyone deserves attention.
When a young person asks for prayer at youth group, that's a huge thing. It means making him/herself vulnerable to the thoughts and opinions of the others. It's not an easy task to do it, and yet it builds a foundation for future occasions when prayer might be needed. If she is rejected as a kid why would she ever make herself vulnerable as an adult?
How many of these kinds of students are now among the "walking wounded" adults in our churches? How many left and never came back? If the place where God tells us to seek out help from fellow sinful men and women can reject us, ignore us, scoff at us, where can we go to find that kind of help and how can we ever trust mankind again?
Of course, we are told not to place our trust in man. God says to trust in Him and He will never let us down. But He does exhort us to "not give up meeting together." The old "spark and fire" story you heard in Sunday School.
Easy enough to do, right? How much harder that is to do in reality.
Challenge yourself to look for one seemingly normal soul at church and introduce yourself. Send a note of encouragement to someone you haven't seen in awhile. Ask someone who looks down if you can pray for them.
Become the people of GOD again...not the cheerleaders of the popular.
Saturday, March 10, 2012
Saturday Sweetheart
While perusing the photo files on my computer, I came across this one.
It has to be one of my all-time favorite photos of Ethan, taken last July 4th by a photographer from our local newspaper. It was Ethan's first parade that he understood, and the rapt attention she caught -- all the way down to his little fists clutching the flag and candy he was given -- such a treasure to me!
It has to be one of my all-time favorite photos of Ethan, taken last July 4th by a photographer from our local newspaper. It was Ethan's first parade that he understood, and the rapt attention she caught -- all the way down to his little fists clutching the flag and candy he was given -- such a treasure to me!
Thursday, March 08, 2012
Wednesday, March 07, 2012
Tuesday, March 06, 2012
Time 4 Reviewing
Starting today, I've been invited to try Time4Learning for one month in exchange for a candid review. (We're considering our options for next year's schooling so this should be really helpful and fun.) My opinion will be entirely my own, so be sure to come back and read about my experience.
Time4Learning can be used as a homeschool curriculum, for afterschool enrichment and for summer skill sharpening. Find out how to write your own curriculum review for Time4Learning.
Nothing Personal
Everyone feels it at some point. The sadness of not being chosen until last. The pang of sorrow at not having someone to "pair off" with. The welling of the eyes when you read about someone doing something special with a "bestest-ever friend" and not including you.
Sure, it's life. Sure, it's normal. Sure, "it's just something that all kids have to deal with at some point in their life." I know that. Believe me.
"What hurts the most makes us stronger," right?
I grew up hearing those phrases. I knew that there was always a reason I wasn't chosen until last. I understood that it was "just one of those things" that I shouldn't worry about it when my friends paired off with others. I was told to just accept it and move on. One day, I'd meet a best friend. I just hadn't met her yet. Like there was some kind of fairy godmother out there who would come floating down and magically make my friend who'd liked me yesterday suddenly like me again today.
Hmm...
It doesn't matter so much to me now. I married my best friend.
But how much that hurt comes back when I hear my daughter whisper her own sadness through her tears, wondering why no one seems to like her, asking me if she isn't likable, if there's something wrong with her. She tries to be nice, she says. She's always kind.
Of course, all the platitudes spring to my lips, and I have to try to catch them before they slip out.
I don't know why she's having these troubles...why she keeps having these troubles...why we can go to all sorts of organizations, including church, and have kids who are actually mean to her... I wish I understood. I wish my magical "mommy kiss" could fix this.
I've examined it from all angles, trying to help her to see what she can do differently, how she can act differently, dress differently, talk differently....
But why? Why shouldn't they like her for who she is? Why can't they?
And then my heart breaks again as my son recounts his first night of Spring soccer and says that he volunteered to be goalie only to have all the other boys say, "Oh, no! Not Edward! He's not good."
I try to hide my own sadness and ask him how he handled it, trying to get the gist of his feelings.
He smiles sadly and says that he just played better. He prayed and stood strong to their disapproval of him. I'm proud, but I know he hurts from it.
These are the times that no parenting book really prepares you for. There are no words to describe the pain this creates inside a person...especially a person who is still so young and tender. I want to move away, run away, hide away, put some kind of protective bubble around all of us and just hug these precious kids tightly.
So I beg all of you, parents -- and it's nothing personal -- to talk to your kids. Tell them to be kind and loving towards ALL people, not to shun those who might seem different in any way. Expect them to be inclusive. Tell them you'll "hurt their little hineys" if they don't, and I'll do the same to mine.
There's no reason ANY child should feel sad and left out.
Kindness begins at home.
Monday, March 05, 2012
Intentional Slowness
But it wasn't always this way.
Um, Susie, you might want to rethink that, you say. Time has always been moving at the same speed...
Well, yes, but I've concluded that the amount of time you've already lived determines the speed, based on how much "life" has been in each day.
Wha'cha mean? you ask.
Well, when you're young -- say a mere 3 or 4 years old -- time is very slow because your experiences are very limited at that point. You don't have a lot in your mind yet -- active imagination or not. Add in a bunch of years worth of memories and thoughts and experiences, and it begins to speed up a bit...i.e. through a crowded cranium.
Okay. Okay. So it's not necessarily scientific or completely logical, but it's there, even if I can't put my thoughts in exact words.
So I'm sitting in my living room this morning -- long before the world of "Feete" has begun to pitter-pat -- and I begin to think about it. How much unnecessary stuff crowds our lives? What are we doing that I didn't do when I was young?
The first thought that came to mind was technology.
While I grew up with a computer -- a Commodore 64 to start with -- from about 14 years old onward, we didn't have the Internet yet. We certainly didn't have the World Wide Web or streaming television or YouTube or Facebook or...or...or... Heck, we didn't even have e-mail yet. I know my dad got a CompuServe account (it was a number back then), and he could post on "bulletin boards." Since I didn't do any of that, I have no idea what it was like.
So there was no pull from that arena when we were younger.
We played board games and yard games and went bicycling and listened to music and read books and wrote books and drew and colored and gardened and...and...and...
It was fun, and life felt...well, it felt slower.
So now I'm left wondering. Can we do the same for our children? Can we intentionally slow down life for them?
We've purposely kept them from doing too many extra-curricular activities to help preserve our family time during this short period of life called "childhood." They learn at home so there's no real homework...apart from, well, their actual schoolwork. But still the days fly by...so much so that we hit the ground running in the morning and don't stop until we 'round the bend at bedtime.
Sigh.
I know a few changes are on the horizon. It's just a matter of having the strength to follow through... I think it will prove to be the best of intentions.
Sunday, March 04, 2012
Sweet Sunday
Since we moved to a new church a few years ago, we've had to learn quite a few new songs. It's fun but can be frustrating when you can join in right away. So to make it easier I begain buying the songs so we could sing along with that at home.
This one -- with its profound words -- has become a fast-favorite, even with the 3-year-old who can't read the words in church but belts it out with the rest of us.
Enjoy! And hope you've had a sweet Sunday!
This one -- with its profound words -- has become a fast-favorite, even with the 3-year-old who can't read the words in church but belts it out with the rest of us.
Enjoy! And hope you've had a sweet Sunday!
Saturday, March 03, 2012
Saturday Sweetheart
Who could help but love this little guy?
Edward (now 11) at 4 years old. Pre-kindergarten on his first day of "school." (Had to be like his big sister.)
Edward (now 11) at 4 years old. Pre-kindergarten on his first day of "school." (Had to be like his big sister.)
Friday, March 02, 2012
The "Rebel"
Recently, Ethan was getting undressed before bedtime, and he still had on his "wife beater" undershirt and some blue jeans. Stuart laughed and said he reminded him of James Dean in the movie Rebel Without a Cause.
I decided to try to capture a photo of him "being a rebel."
The following is the progression of shots I was able to take with my iPod's camera.
Quite the "rebel," huh?
Thursday, March 01, 2012
A Thursday Thought...
Oh, Blog!
I'm so sorry for how I've neglected you.
I've been trying to get back in the groove, but it can be difficult trying to juggle all the other things I should be doing with my keen desire to write and "chat" with my fingers.
I could blame the infamous Facebook for stealing my thunder...but it is all my doing, since I seem to be lacking in the self-control department.
So I am back (again) and vow to stay put and....
I know. I know. You've heard it all before, and the silence has hurt you terribly.
In all honesty, it's hurt me, too. My head hurts from trying to keep all my thoughts in their places. (They get quite unruly sometimes.)
But can you give me one more chance? One more?
Yes?
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!
.....
Okay. I'll stop now.....
(Yay!)
I'm so sorry for how I've neglected you.
I've been trying to get back in the groove, but it can be difficult trying to juggle all the other things I should be doing with my keen desire to write and "chat" with my fingers.
I could blame the infamous Facebook for stealing my thunder...but it is all my doing, since I seem to be lacking in the self-control department.
So I am back (again) and vow to stay put and....
I know. I know. You've heard it all before, and the silence has hurt you terribly.
In all honesty, it's hurt me, too. My head hurts from trying to keep all my thoughts in their places. (They get quite unruly sometimes.)
But can you give me one more chance? One more?
Yes?
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!
.....
Okay. I'll stop now.....
(Yay!)
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Happy Leap Day!
I'm not really sure why. I guess I'm just silly like that.
But the idea that a date can only occur every four years brings a certain specialness to it, I think.
2/29/12
This time four years ago we were a family of just four. We hadn't met Ethan and all that encompasses him. We hadn't changed to five yet.
Emily was 10, and Edward had just turned 7.
The world seemed slower and simpler...well, it does now, looking back. But back then? It probably felt exactly as fast as it feels now.
The excitement at this date hasn't changed, though. I hope it never does. It's the simple things in life that make it fun, right?
Happy Leap Day!
Hope you enjoy that shiver of excitement, too.
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
And All God's People...
Sometimes I feel like I could be the subject of Johnny Cash's song, "I've Been Everywhere."
"I've been everywhere, man.
I've been everywhere, man.
Crossed the desert's bare, man.
I've breathed the mountain air, man.
Of travel I've had my share, man.
I've been everywhere."
Okay. He's been to way more places than I have...but let me recount my life's journey....
Born in Silver Spring, Md., and then moved to Greensburg, Pa.; Cape St. Clair, Md.; Annapolis, Md.; Folsom, Ca. (two moves); Douglassville, Pa. (two moves), Robeson Towship, Pa. (two moves), Swindon, England; Brighton, England (two moves); California, Pa.; Lancaster, Pa.; Elverson, Pa.; Honesdale, Pa.; Reading, Pa. (two moves); and finally Wyomissing, Pa.
Phew.
Nineteen moves (not including the back and forth to college). And that's not nearly as many as my parents, though it's certainly not a competition.
I began remembering all of my former locations during a song we were singing in church on Sunday.
"Let the 'Amen!' sound from His people again...."
And it struck me.
I can't wait to get to Heaven to be with ALL the people I've ever worshipped with over my lifetime. It is going to be, in the words of Barney Stinson, "Legend -- wait for it -- dary!" And that's putting it lightly.
Sometimes people get sad when God moves people out of a particular church. We don't understand God's reasons. We feel hurt and angry. We don't want to talk to them anymore. I know. Remember, I've moved around a lot in my lifetime. Goodbyes are never easy.
But what we lose sight of in our "human earthliness" is the fact that if we're in Christ we aren't ever saying goodbye. Ever.
One day, we will worship together again in the greatest worship hall ever created with the greatest worship leaders and God right there, visible and sitting on His throne. Imagine the acoustics!
Got chills?
I sure do!
So to those we left for whatever reason God had...in Annapolis EP church; Folsom's Community Bible Church; Elverson's Community Evangelical Free Church; Swindon's Freshbrook Evangelical Church; and Cumru Township's Reading Evangelical Free Church (now Crossway Church): We never say goodbye because we can't. We will sing together again! And it will be forever in Christ.
I can't wait to hear All God's People say: AMEN!!
* * * * *
What a sound that will be. Will you join me?
Praise To The Lord The Almighty
Praise to the Lord, the Almighty
The King of creation
O my soul, praise Him
For He is thy health and salvation
All ye who hear, now to His temple draw near
Join me in glad adoration
Praise to the Lord
Who o'er all things so wonderfully reigneth
Shelters thee under His wings
Yea, so gladly sustaineth
Hast thou not seen how thy glories e'er have been
Granted in what He ordaineth
Praise to the Lord, O let all that is in me adore Him
All that hath life and breath
Come now with praises before Him
Let the 'amen' sound from His people again
Gladly for aye we adore Him.
"I've been everywhere, man.
I've been everywhere, man.
Crossed the desert's bare, man.
I've breathed the mountain air, man.
Of travel I've had my share, man.
I've been everywhere."
Okay. He's been to way more places than I have...but let me recount my life's journey....
Born in Silver Spring, Md., and then moved to Greensburg, Pa.; Cape St. Clair, Md.; Annapolis, Md.; Folsom, Ca. (two moves); Douglassville, Pa. (two moves), Robeson Towship, Pa. (two moves), Swindon, England; Brighton, England (two moves); California, Pa.; Lancaster, Pa.; Elverson, Pa.; Honesdale, Pa.; Reading, Pa. (two moves); and finally Wyomissing, Pa.
Phew.
Nineteen moves (not including the back and forth to college). And that's not nearly as many as my parents, though it's certainly not a competition.
I began remembering all of my former locations during a song we were singing in church on Sunday.
"Let the 'Amen!' sound from His people again...."
And it struck me.
I can't wait to get to Heaven to be with ALL the people I've ever worshipped with over my lifetime. It is going to be, in the words of Barney Stinson, "Legend -- wait for it -- dary!" And that's putting it lightly.
Sometimes people get sad when God moves people out of a particular church. We don't understand God's reasons. We feel hurt and angry. We don't want to talk to them anymore. I know. Remember, I've moved around a lot in my lifetime. Goodbyes are never easy.
But what we lose sight of in our "human earthliness" is the fact that if we're in Christ we aren't ever saying goodbye. Ever.
One day, we will worship together again in the greatest worship hall ever created with the greatest worship leaders and God right there, visible and sitting on His throne. Imagine the acoustics!
Got chills?
I sure do!
So to those we left for whatever reason God had...in Annapolis EP church; Folsom's Community Bible Church; Elverson's Community Evangelical Free Church; Swindon's Freshbrook Evangelical Church; and Cumru Township's Reading Evangelical Free Church (now Crossway Church): We never say goodbye because we can't. We will sing together again! And it will be forever in Christ.
I can't wait to hear All God's People say: AMEN!!
* * * * *
What a sound that will be. Will you join me?
Praise To The Lord The Almighty
Praise to the Lord, the Almighty
The King of creation
O my soul, praise Him
For He is thy health and salvation
All ye who hear, now to His temple draw near
Join me in glad adoration
Praise to the Lord
Who o'er all things so wonderfully reigneth
Shelters thee under His wings
Yea, so gladly sustaineth
Hast thou not seen how thy glories e'er have been
Granted in what He ordaineth
Praise to the Lord, O let all that is in me adore Him
All that hath life and breath
Come now with praises before Him
Let the 'amen' sound from His people again
Gladly for aye we adore Him.
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
A Tuesday TV Tidbit
I'm a sucker for soppy television shows. Put in a cute animal and some kids, and I'm a-gonner emotions-wise. The way that a story can bring tears or laughter or rage or fear is such an interesting "power" to study. It's probably one of my favorite reasons to write.
The "worst" type of television-viewing for me is watching a Hallmark Hall of Fame movie. The ads in between the already tear-jerking movie...well, enough said, right?
Sigh.
I took an advertising class in college and really enjoyed learning how advertisers evoke emotions from their viewers. I reflected on the sweet commercials we reviewed during that time, figuring out which ones worked and which ones didn't.
Here's one that I remembered that really worked. The proof? I still remembered it.
Blog-hopping with Tillman today. Something fun...and a first for me.
The "worst" type of television-viewing for me is watching a Hallmark Hall of Fame movie. The ads in between the already tear-jerking movie...well, enough said, right?
Sigh.
I took an advertising class in college and really enjoyed learning how advertisers evoke emotions from their viewers. I reflected on the sweet commercials we reviewed during that time, figuring out which ones worked and which ones didn't.
Here's one that I remembered that really worked. The proof? I still remembered it.
Blog-hopping with Tillman today. Something fun...and a first for me.
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