The book Look Me in the Eye: My Life with Asperger's by John Elder Robison was suggested to me, because my son Don Quixote was diagnosed with Asperger's at age 27. I will give you the same warning that was given me: the book is crude in many places. But, outside of the actual "memoir" chapters, there is a lot of insight into the way Aspies think.

My son went through what many like him do--a lot of torment from other children, because he is different. Asperger's is not a "visible" disabiity, and so people didn't think to "allow" for the disability when dealing with him. Besides, Don did not get a diagnosis until age 27.

A short, but far from complete list, if you are not familiar. Aspies:

--cannot "read" faces, and don't know when you are angry or perturbed with them

--cannot remember faces, so appear rude when they introduce themselves to someone they "should" know by now

--do not have the emotional feelings and social skills NT ("neurologically typical") people have

--because of this, they do many, many things that are socially unacceptable. One time Don asked a not-close acquaintance, "What's it like to be black?"

(to elaborate on this--Aspie's never pick up on the "social cues"--what is "acceptable" or "not acceptable"--that we NT people naturally get, just by growing up in a culture. For instance, it seems just as logical for an Aspie to ask a person "Have you gained weight? You look fatter than the last time I saw you" as "Have you lost weight? You look thinner than the last time I saw you.")

There are many other idiosyncracies, but that will give you a little picture.

In addition, Aspies can exhibit almost savant-like tendencies--my Don used to multiply two three-digit numbers in his head.

The author explained several things to me quite well. I knew that Aspies, being ridiculed by their peers, often relate well as children, to grownups or to younger children. They feel accepted and valued. My son Don gets the same acceptance by foreign people, in the ESL classes he helps with.

The author talks about scientists who study the "plasticity" of the brain, and its development over a lifetime.

Children who cannot connect socially, retreat into themselves. Profoundly autistic children (Asperger's is a higher-functioning form of autism) don't communicate at all with others. Robison feels he was saved from that, because he could interact with adults. During his childhood and adolescence, he exhibited those savant-like traits in math and science, but at the same time, was struggling socially. Now, at fifty, he has developed his social and emotional capabilities, and the other traits have diminished. He uses an analogy that I have used with my son: his focus was "laser-like" and so those "abilities" were magnified until they seemed savant-like. But, as his "world" got bigger, that laser dissipated into a much larger "brain". But, as it dissipated, the super-genius thing was not as evident. He speaks of looking at diagrams of computer circuits he designed twenty years ago, and not even recognizing them. But, he says, the trade-off is worth it--he now can connect with people, has a wife and son, and is immeasurably more happy.

One other thing the author said really spoke to me. He says:

"Many descriptions of autism and Asperger's describe people like me as "not wanting contact with others," or "preferring to play alone." ...I'd like to be clear about my own feelings: I did not EVER want to be ALONE." (p. 339 of the large-print edition)

We were ALL created with a need for love and acceptance. Aspie's appear to "like to play alone" because they are not accepted by others.

I know there is a theory that autism spectrum disorders are a result of immunizations. Don was immunized, yes, and with vaccines with mercury preservatives. But, the author of this book, because he was born in 1957, was not. A few issues ago, TOS magazine featured special needs kids, and one of the articles was about Asperger's. They gave a list of "symptoms" you could look over, to see if you wanted to get your child evaluated. I was surprised at the list: every single item could be attributed to either Charming or me. So, Don Quixote's Asperger's could also be a simple genetic mix.

One important thing to realize is that Asperger's is not a disease; therefore, it doesn't need a "cure." It's Just The Way Don Is Wired. Just because it is Neurologically Atypical, doesn't mean it isn't normal for Don. I am glad, though, that the word is getting out, and people are beginning to be educated.

This is getting Too Long, so maybe I'll write more about it another time. Since I started out to write a review of the book, here's the short version: The "memoir" portion is crude in places, but the information I gathered confirmed what my mother-heart knew, even before my son was diagnosed. I feel that it has been worth my time to read.

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"In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth."--Genesis 1:1

"In the beginning was the Word; and the Word was with God, and the Word was God."--John 1:1

I don't think of these verses often, but when I do, they just *thrill* me. I was a biology major in college in the 70's, and, even tho' it was a Catholic university, I was required to take a semester of Evolution. Just thinking about it now makes me laugh. Studying something that isn't true and that I never believed--for an entire semester? Can I get a refund of my tuition? (don't laugh when I tell you that the entire year's monies for my private college tuition, room and board, and fees came to $3800...)

I read of people or organizations saying that Creation could not be the mechanism by which the universe began. But then, scientific method also fails: it is incumbent upon the *observable* and *reproducible*. So we end up with the Big Bang or the Primordial Soup, both leaving the unanswerable question: Where did the "stuff" of which the Big Bang or Primordial Soup were composed, come from?

Blackeyed Susan and I studied Descartes last week. You remember him: "I think, therefore I am." He decided to lock himself in a room, and begin doubting everything he could think of. He got to the place where he could doubt everything except the fact that he was "doubting." Thus, his famous saying, upon which he built his entire philosophy. He proved his existence to himself by ruling everything else out.

That is pitiful. Just pitiful. And he is one of the Great Thinkers? As we used to say in grade school, It Is To Laugh.

You who are reading this probably never met my mother. And, because of that, you might claim that she does not exist. I would have to laugh at that, since I know her. No theory or other "evidence" you could present would have any effect on me whatsoever.

So, when someone says that God does not exist, or that we cannot *know* that He exists, I might have a little chuckle. Because, you see, I KNOW Him. That is the incredible, impossible-to-believe fact. Not only do we have His Word to tell us about what really happened "in the beginning," He allow us, nay WANTS us to be in relationship with Him.

Face it, we all want and need to know we are wanted and loved. Our loving Father does not leave us in the dark. No need to wonder, He lets us know in many, many ways.

Charming and I made it a point to make the first words we spoke to each of our children the Good News: "this is the most important thing Daddy and Mommy will ever tell you. God loves you and sent His Son to die on the Cross for you so that you can be with them forever." And then the second thing: "and Daddy and Mommy love you so much!"

As mothers, we have the most precious opportunity to be the ones to bring the Truth to our little ones. Early and often. I was surprised with the many, many "teachable" moments that happened every day. And they are still happening, as I homeschool my last two children. They are finishing seventh and ninth grades, but we are full of awe when studying science or math, and the laws which the universe follows. The incredible creativity of poetry, art and music. God is a creative God, and He created us to be creative.

The greatest thing, I think, is that, even in a lifetime of study, we cannot get to the end of what God has done. What he did "in the beginning" is there for the discovery, hour by hour, day by day. We can know His creation, and Himself, for ourselves. And what you know yourself, no one can take away.

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Yesterday, our pastor preached on the miracle of feeding the 5,000. Now, I'm sure you have heard sermons on this passage before, perhaps more than once. But this time, it spoke to me in a different way.

You know the story, of course. The Crowds Came. In John 6:5, it is Jesus who asks Philip, "Where shall we find bread for these people to eat?" The passage also says, He said it to test Philip, for He already knew what He was going to do.

I love to imagine the little boy with the lunch. Maybe he was five years old, and overheard Jesus' question. Can't you hear him, holding up his little package: "Here, Jesus. You can use mine!" I know *my* little ones would have done so. Oh, if we could have that faith!

Well, I don't have to tell you what happened. Jesus blessed the food, and it held out, with plenty to spare. (the same thing has happened to me, but with about thirty people, not 5,000. And, there wasn't a lot "to spare." Guess I have faith for 30....)

This miracle is told in all four Gospel accounts, and in one of them, one of the apostles suggests sending the crowds home to find their own dinner. So, what was the new "twist" I got yesterday? Our pastor challenged us to ask the question a different way. Instead of, "where shall we find bread for them to eat?" try these:

Where shall we find answers to broken marriages?

Where shall we find answers for straying children?

How can we bring clarity to those with mental illness or depression?

How can we reach out to the hurting?

Is our answer, "Send them away to fend for themselves?"

Ouch.

The Good News is that, just like in the story, Jesus already knows what he plans to do. He just needs Miracle Bread-Passers. The answer is beyond my capacity, but not beyond His. Can I get *there* in my own faith, to really, really believe that? Is Jesus' resurrection power available now to transform MY world?

What do I do when the need is bigger than my answer? Just do what I can do, (and KEEP doing it). God will do the rest. This is His way of "growing" us.

So often, I get so caught up in my own stuff, I can't even think about doing stuff for God. He wants me to be willing to smell like fish and pass out bread. Do I have a servant's heart? Oh, I want one!

So, just a few thoughts from our sermon yesterday. These, for the most part, are not *my* thoughts. Just the notes I took while our pastor was sharing. But they were so good, I wanted to share them with you. The title of the sermon was "making room for the miraculous." I think if I can desire this, I'd better Get Outta The Way. Stuff is Going to Happen.

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I do not believe that the earth is overpopulated with humans. First and foremost, I believe that our Creator is *in charge*, and would not let the place He created for us, ever become too small. What, He didn't figure big enough, like when I don't get enough fabric to recover the sofa? You know, you go back to the fabric store, and they're all out...

I have, from time to time, heard the statistic that the entire population of the earth would fit into the state of Texas, with each of us allowed 1500 sq. feet of space. My house has 1850 square feet, and housed ten of us. So I'm thinking that the 1500 sq. feet would easily allow for a garden and a couple of rooms to live in.

I finally decided to "do the math," and see if this could actually happen. I had to do the calculations manually, as my calculator only allows eight places for numbers.

Texas has 267,339 square miles. To get the square footage, I need to use two "unit multipliers" of 5280 feet/1 square mile. This would end up as 267,339 times 5280 times 5280 times feet times feet, *over* 1. That calculation took half a sheet of notebook paper, and ends up to be 7,452,993,577,600 square feet. That's seven trillion and change. I rounded it to 7 trillion, 453 billion, (7,453,000,000,000) and divided by 6 billion. (Actually, I just divided 7,453 by 6.) The answer, tho' not technically 1,500 square feet, turns out to be 1242 square feet. And, in case you are asking, only 5,500 square miles are used up as lakes in Texas. You technically would need to either subtract them, or provide boats for those people to sit in...)

So. It looks like the entire population of the earth could easily fit into Texas, without nudging up against each other or anything. Plenty of "personal space."

A little different perspective on the Population Explosion, eh?

(and, don't forget, that Texas is less than half the size of Alaska.)

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"Nothing is intolerable that is necessary, [Jeremy] Taylor had written. Now God has bound thy trouble upon thee, with a design to try thee, and with purposes to reward and crown thee. These cords thou canst not break; and therefore lie thou down gently, and suffer the hand of God to do what He pleases."

--quoted in Home to Holly Springs by Jan Karon, p. 329

I grew up quite awhile ago, when many people suffered with cancer or any of a number of other maladies before they succumbed. The key word here is Suffered.

I remember asking my mother one time about how these people could stand the suffering. I loved her answer: Suffering is a gift that God gives only to those who can handle it. But if you are *chosen,* you have an opportunity to show people the faithfulness of God.

I also knew that those people did not suffer alone. They were surrounded with friends and family who prayed, as well as the Savior who promised "never to leave them or forsake them."

My parents knew suffering.  Besides two miscarriages and two stillbirths, four of their children were born with a congenital cancer-like syndrome. It was in remission at birth, but they knew that at some point, it would become active. My siblings died at 2 1/2, 3, 5, and 8 years of age, the last one surviving longer due to "new,"  "experimental" chemotherapy drugs.

The most beautiful thing about my parents is that, in their suffering, they turned to the One who comforts. They taught me that what seems like tragedy is not tragedy to God: all is in His time, and for His purpose.

We all suffer to one extent or another. We are all betrayed by someone who loves us. We are unfairly treated. No one escapes crisis in their life, of one kind or another.

In Where is God When It Hurts? by Phillip Yancey, I found an answer I can live with to the question, How can a loving God allow suffering? This is the gist of it, though I do not have the book in front of me, for a proper quote:

Say that any good act that you do would have an instant reward, and that any bad act you do would have an instant punishment. (isn't this the way you or I would design a perfect world?) Say that you would get some kind of "treat" for good actions, and that you would feel an electric shock for bad actions. How long would it be before you were doing good things because you knew the treat was coming, and *not doing* bad things because you didn't want to be shocked? Well, you know what that is--Conditioned Response. Psych 101.

But God, who *is* LOVE, wants us to love Him because we choose to, not to avoid punishment, or receive a reward. Think about our earthly relationships. Don't you want your children to love you for *you,* not because of what you can give them? Same thing for God, our Father.

The book explains it much better than I can. (so go get the book!) But here is where it led me. We live in a fallen world; the fallen world has suffering. The Bible tells me that the rain falls on the just and the unjust. So, since God knows a tad more than I do, I can leave the answers with Him, and not worry about it. He has proven to me in my own life, that He is GOOD. ALL THE TIME. So, if I am suffering, it is either a natural consequence of a choice I made, or the Lord has let it come to me.

The best part of all is that God Wastes Nothing. He is using everything in my life to "conform me to the image of His Son."

So, we're back to the quotation, and to my Mom's answer. (why, yes, she was the smartest lady in the entire universe!) Suffering. The Gift nobody asks for. But one of the most Precious of all His gifts.

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My devotion for today, for my marriage, is based on ICor. 13:4-8:

"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails."

Some of these I can check off the list. It took me years and years, but, most of the time, I "keep no record of wrongs." Pretty good on the "does not envy." The *patient* and *kind* part are come-and-go. Oh, I use all the excuses--too busy, hormones, whatever, then a quick "I'm sorry, honey." He always forgives me. But then I find that I can be selfish about doing something *I* want to do, and think, Oh, well, he'll forgive me later. You know that saying, "I'd rather ask forgiveness than permission?" I don't remember reading that in the Bible!

I think the last portion of the passage makes a great goal for a marriage:

it ALWAYS protects/ ALWAYS trusts/ ALWAYS hopes/ ALWAYS perseveres. Love NEVER fails.

So, a special Valentine's greeting to all of you married friends. And, remember that a married couple is the best picture God has of showing Himself to the world. We should seek to make it the very best we can. Never forget that *He* can make it that way!

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When I had all my little guys at home, they used to exert their influence so that I would buy their favorite kind of chips for lunch. It worked, because Aldi's had bags of chips for 59 cents. So I would buy barbeque, sour cream and onion, corn chips, cheeto's, and pretzels. By the end of the week, there wasn't much left. I would mix all the rest of the bags together in a bowl and call it Surprise Chips.

Same with cereal. Cheerios, Kix, and whatever else was left at the bottom of the boxes would go in a Tupperware cereal keeper, and I would call it Surprise Cereal. (don't use  Raisin Bran, though, it gets soggy in the bowl before the rest of the cereal--eeuuww.)

Neither Surprise Chips nor Surprise cereal were as popular as each favorite by itself. But the children learned to eat both of them.

It's kind of like being brothers and sisters.  Living together is a learning process, and, I guess it worked, because as difficult as it could be growing up, now, whenever my adult children get together, they seem to have no problem getting along. This, of course, translates into the experience of being college roommates, and then progresses to marriage.

A few years ago, I read an article that said America should not be called The Great Melting Pot. It should instead be called a Salad, because we are all Separate People, not a homogenous One. *Diversity* is the Goal.

Hmmm. Guess that person did not read his history text. During the period of the great immigration, the Goal was to become transformed into a different identity--American. Yes, we Germans and Greeks and Italians and Irish brought our cultures with us. But, like any great pot of *anything,* it is the little spices and other things "added" that make the dish shine. And then, the "pot" becomes its Own Thing.

And, frankly, I don't know of anyone who doesn't still have Ethnic pride. (Did you see My Big Fat Greek Wedding?) I remember the first time I saw Riverdance. It felt like I could identify with that Irish dancing clear down to my DNA. I just KNEW those were "my people."

Yet, there is so much about us that is distinctly American, different than any other people. During World War II, the Japanese didn't know what to do with "Yankee ingenuity." Neither did the Germans--it was Americans who had the idea to use Navajo code-talkers to foil the Germans. And think about MacGuyver--Americans can fix anything with a paper clip and a rubber band!

My thought for today was that this is how we should view the Church. We come from many traditions--I grew up Catholic, and I have a sister-in-law who was raised in the Holiness tradition. Yet, today I worship in an Assemblies of God church. We Christians are of all stripes(and you know what I mean!),and have to learn to "live together" in spite of our differences. We retain our "ethnic" traits, but come together into a melting pot that is distinctly Christlike. 

At least, that is the idea, isn't it? Gollee, if it could only be said of us, You are all Christians, aren't you? Just by the way we act. What a goal to shoot for.

And the very best thing? It is He that does the work. We just have to Get Close and Listen.

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I go through periods where I wish I could learn everything. Like when I was small, and I was going to read every book in the library, in alphabetical order.

Recently, my daughter Violet turned me onto the Treasure of Sutton Hoo. She told me over the phone, so first I wrote down Sutton Who? like one of the people Horton Hears. No, Mom, Sutton Hoo. Then I thought it was maybe someone who lived in Hong Kong or something. She finally said, Just Get A Book.

My book is called The Treasure of Sutton Hoo, and I found out that Sutton Hoo is a place in southeastern England, in former East Anglia. An ancient ship-burial was found there in 1939. It became a fascinating archeological dig.

It is the burial "shrine," if you will, of an Anglo-Saxon king. No body was in the grave, but, archeologically speaking, they weren't expecting one. They buried an entire ship, with items placed in three areas: one area for his military stuff (shield, spears, helmet), and one for household stuff (bowls, spoons, a little bit of cloth and leather), and, well, I'm not finished with What Was In The Middle. The entire ship has decomposed, but every one of the iron nails was left intact, in its place, so they were able to reconstruct the ship in its entirety. (though smaller, of course!)

Now we get to what is, for me, the Absolutely Fascinating Part.

This king (and they have narrowed the list down to five known kings) died in the seventh century. In the 600's. He was a contemporary of BEOWULF, people! In fact, portions of Beowulf are scattered throughout the book, giving a "setting" to the antiquities they found.

They know that the burial must have taken place between 625 and 670. Not before 625, because a collection of coins they found (and they believe it was a coin Collection!) would discount an earlier date. Not later than 670, because this was a pagan-style burial, but some of the items are embossed with a cross, and a couple were standard baptism gifts when a king was converted. Yet, after 670, Christianity was so established, that royal pagan burials had ceased.

Another mystery is how they buried an entire ship, 100 feet above shore and a half-mile in. It appears that it was lowered in, not just "dumped." More mysteries.

So many more details are fascinating. How they embossed the helmet and shield with scenes of Greek warriors, and the bowls with classical heads of Greek women. Just like the later Greek Revivals in art and architecture. A little of the history of how Christianity came to England is included. And I am only two-thirds finished with the book!

So, if you have already read Horton Hears a Who, may I suggest you move on to The Treasure of Sutton Hoo. It is definitely a fascinating read, and makes all of that Anglo-Saxon pre-Norman conquest thing come to life.

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If you read this post, you know that I am working my way through the book The Path by Laurie Beth Jones. I am at the part where she is using Biblical characters as examples to follow while figuring out how your Mission will be accomplished.

I looked up the word "virtuous" (as in Proverbs 31's Virtuous Woman) in the concordance. The Hebrew word chayil has many meanings, among which are: a force, whether of men, means, or other resources; wealth; virtue; strength. My sister Janet says she is "a force to be reckoned with!" (probably every husband would agree, don't you think?)

Certainly any of us who have read this passage have found this Woman to be all of the above. It appears she is wealthy, her arms are strong, she does many things throughout her lifetime, and is praised by her husband and children. I could *maybe* aspire to everything except the "Rising early" at the same time as her "candle not going out by night." Maybe she took naps, eh?

Right now (in The Path) I am reading about Ruth, and how she fulfilled the Eight Steps to Mission Fulfillment:

• Ruth's love for Naomi gave her the facts she needed to fulfill her mission.
• She set a goal to follow and bless Naomi.
• She examined and enlisted her resources by asking to glean the barley fields.
• She turned old business into new business by proposing to Boaz.
• She gave [Boaz] something to remember her by: her diligence in the fields, and her reputation for loving-kindness and loyalty.
• She broke ranks by leaving her Moabite roots.
• She became visible by working in the fields, and bringing about a meeting with the person whose blessing she sought.
• She saturated everything she did with prayer, invoking the blessing of a God she knew only through Naomi.  

(words in italics are quoted from The Path.)

One more quote:

"Ruth demonstrates to all of us the value of the ministry of presence, and the worth God places on loyalty and commitment. Ruth's words to Naomi are used in wedding ceremonies still [as in my own!] --thousands of years after she spoke them. She did not change any geographical boundaries or turn water into blood or lead people into the Promised Land. She simply loved someone with all her heart, and gave herself in service. It is no wonder she was chosen to be Jesus' ancestor. God must have wanted that kind of passionate love for others to be handed down."

--pp.166-7

Wow. A reminder that in the midst of raising children, loving husbands, work (whatever kind of work we do, throughout our lifetime), money made, spent, etc. etc., we find the example of Ruth. You know, Ruth is one of only two books in the Bible named for women. Esther (the other one) is cool; she had a mission given by God to save the nation of Israel. But I think it is so, so wonderful to see that the book of Ruth is there, just to show us an example of How to Love.

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I've never had a bona fide, honest-to-goodness, personal Mission Statement. Charming and I have fiddled around with a Family Mission statement; he has always done such things for work, and is fine-tuning one for Ministry.

My sister encouraged me to read the book The Path by Laurie Beth Jones. In it, she takes you through the process of writing a mission statement, then a vision statement, and beyond. I'm about halfway through the book, but my Mission Statement is coming together.

I think it is a great advantage to get this point in life before doing one. I can look back to see evidence of just what God put me on earth for. All the things that have come before show me in what direction to head.

I almost stopped after the introduction. Your mission statement must be only one sentence long.

Wait a minute. What my dear husband says in ten words (he writes songs, and must be succinct, you know) I can say in, oh, three hundred or so. I really didn't think I could ever do it. Another thing: your statement must be able to cover everything you ever do, for your entire life, whether or not you ever become single through widowhood, your children grow up and move on, whatever job changes go on, etc. Whew. Looked harder and harder every minute.

The book asks What were you passionate about in your youth, and then now? I always loved science, because I could see the workings of God in it. When my children went to Christian school twenty years ago, they all used Abeka science books, and every book gave the same definition for science: Discovering what God has already done. Wow. Isn't that the truth? And I love how God "hid" so many things, leaving them for us to discover through the thousands of years since creation.

Today, I love homeschooling my children. Science is naturally my favorite to teach--I love to share with my children how science shows us God's design. But I can also find God's Design in every other subject, as well.

I also love teaching and mentoring on marriage, motherhood, and Natural Family Planning. The last one, because it is so SCIENTIFIC! Love to teach on the way God designed marriage, motherhood, homemaking, etc.

Hmmm. There seemed to be some recurring words there. Revealing. God's. Design. Could that be my mission? It certainly describes my Passion. It covered all my interests throughout my life so far, including Raising Children, the premier and longest-lasting Job I'll ever have.      

Time to put it to the acid test. Would my uber-passion, Quilting, make the cut?

Hmmm. I am made in the image of God. God is a Creator, therefore, He has made me to be Creative. It is part of  God's Design for me.

Whew.

The book then instructed me to find three verbs for my statement, as a Mission is an action thing. I decided on Teaching, Mentoring, and Modeling.

So, so far, I have this, after expanding a little bit on my Reveal God's Design statement:

My mission is to reveal God's design by teaching, mentoring, and modeling His love, care, and creativity...to...

The last part is to state "to" or "for" whom this applies. I'm considering two options:

--to those with whom I have or will have relationships

--to those within my sphere of influence.

It needs to cover my husband, children, neighbors and friends, and whomever I would touch through ministry or, well, my LIFE.

So, after a little more fine tuning, I think I'll have it.

Next on the list: a Vision statement of Where I Am Right Now. More to come!

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(with Props given to George H.W. Bush for the adjectives!)

I picked up this book at the library the other day. It is called Hundred Dollar Holiday: the Case for a More Joyful Christmas. It is a very quick read, but I haven't even read it. Lily and the children came over the day I got it, and she took it right away from me! She did, however, read portions of it while we crafted.

One of the points the author made speaks especially to me. Surveys have found that most people would be willing to give up a day's wages every week, if they could get that day "off". In the 80's, *they* (you know, the powers-that-be *they*) talked about four-day, ten-hours-a-day weeks. That, of course, was when a person still worked "only" forty hours per week. By the time my Daddy finished his forty-one year career at GE, he had accumulated six weeks of vacation per year. One year he took off every Friday for about eight weeks, using two of the weeks. 'Way back, he saw the advantage, as well.

Imagine if there was a store that sold "time." The line would be out the door and down the street, from coast to coast, right? So....

So, if we are attempting to make Christmas more "special" by buying gifts, as well as all the other trappings, we are offering something less valuable than our Best (as, obviously, we see Time as more valuable than money).

My problem is Too Many Traditions. I love to shop and spend money for things that will please my family. I also go CRAZY, crafting things for the same reason. Decorating? Every corner in the house! Baking. Game nights. Singing parties. On. and On. and On.

Whew. I'm getting tired just typing it.

One more thing--I picked the Hundred Dollar Holiday book up from the library.  But next to it, there were Piles of books on Simplifying Christmas, Slowing Down Christmas, Making Christmas More Meaningful.

Do you remember Laura Ingall's Christmas on Plum Creek? She was so excited because she and Mary got their own tin cups, and didn't have to share anymore. A pair of mittens, a stick of candy, and a penny. It was a rich Christmas.

I wonder what Laura Ingalls would think of the barrage of books written (and sold) about Making Christmas More Simple?

My own mother (born 1921) talked about how they looked forward to an orange in their stockings. She talked about relishing the aroma, just holding it her hands for awhile before eating it. Oranges were a rare thing in her home. Now, I throw an orange in the toe of the stockings as a matter of course. Grocery list? Oh, yes, must get oranges for stockings... Occasionally I'll find one still uneaten when we pack the stockings away.

Charming and I really blew it one Christmas. Blackeyed Susan and Alvin Fernald were probably five and four. Their "big" presents that year were a *fake* American Girl doll (with several outfits, a bed, and handmade quilt), and a Thomas train set with extras. We set these two gifts on the coffee table in the living room. The tree with all the other presents was in the den, closed off by French doors.

The older six children and us watched with delight as Susan and Alvin came down the stairs and saw their presents. After a few minutes play, the older children wanted to go to the other room. As we made the little guys go in, Charming and I looked at each other. We had really messed up. Sure enough, by the time the tree was emptied, and piles of paper stretched hither and yon (and Susan and Alvin had opened several "little gifts"), they were saying, Where's my next present?  It had taken only forty-five minutes to train them to the "gimme" mode. 

I don't know where this adventure will lead me. I hope it takes hold in my family. I expect that the first year won't be a complete success, however I'm going to define "success." But it will be a journey worth beginning.

Lily has some great thoughts on this. I put them on my other blog. Go check it out!

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My goodness, what a day Sunday!

After two years of negotiating, praying, funds-raising, praying, remodeling, and, yes, we are still praying (!), our church family is moving to a new facility next Sunday. It was a three-way real-estate deal--we bought an empty church (result of a tragic church split), another church, located across the street from a Christian university, bought ours, and the university bought theirs. Really, only the Lord could have worked this out to everyone's satisfaction.

Last night we had a combined service with the church that is moving *in*--our last service there, and their first. It was a Loud, Noisy Celebration of God's love and provision for His children. The church was bursting at the seams! A very rich time, indeed.

I had a funny thought during the service. Have you seen those commercials for the 100 calorie snacks? A woman comes bursting in to a corporate meeting--sorry, I'm late. (introducing herself) I'm--Too Stuffed to Concentrate. The rest introduce themselves around the table--I'm--Really Sorry I Ate That Pizza; I'm--Needing to Loosen My Pants; I'm--Really, Really Uncomfortable. The Very Wise woman eating the 100 Calorie Snack Pack says, I'm--Susan. The slogan: Don't be identified by your snacks.

What if we identified ourselves by our sins? I'm--an Adulterer. I'm--Living to Gossip about You. I'm--an Anger Problem Ready to Unleash on My Family. I'm--an Alcoholic. I'm--a Stealer (Murderer, Cheat on my Taxes, Don't give my boss a fair day's work, etc., etc., etc.)

If you are a Christian, you remember those days that Sin ruled your life. It was always there, ready to accuse, to bear down on you, stifle you. And you deserved everything you got. But then...

Christ came! And you found out that He already took the weight, the shame, the consequences for your sin. No longer did you have to identify yourself by your sin--He calls us by name. How free you felt!

Our enemy is called the Accuser of the Brethren. He will take every opportunity to try to get us to forget the freedom that has been bought and paid for by our Lord. Sometimes he is so crafty that we don't even realize what he is doing. We fall back into the oppression of sin, either feeling it overwhelm us, or actually falling back into the habit of sin.

Christ came to FREE us from sin. Not that we can ever be free from temptation to sin, and of course, we WILL sin, and 'way too often. By keeping our eyes on Jesus, and abiding in Him, that's where we find safety. That is where we are free to be Us, and, may I put it this way? we are free NOT to sin.

Hello. I'm Barbara. I'm Free From Sin, because of Him.

How wonderful to be able to say that!

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(this post was first published on my other blog [see sidebar] on August 30, 2006.)

Yesterday was my birthday, and I felt melancholy here and there throughout the day. It was my first since Mom passed away. Every birthday after I left home, Mother and Daddy would call me early in the morning and sing to me--most often the first greeting of the day.

Today would have been my Mom and Dad's 65th wedding anniversary. I always felt special, being their "14th anniversary present."

Mother had a "bride's book," which in no way resembles what we now call a "Wedding Album." Or even what my daughter and daughter-in-law had as a "wedding planner." Two-inch binders with places for cards, ribbons, and other mementos. Mother's was the size of one of those black "composition books," only about a quarter as thick, probably thirty pages or so. It is wonderful because it is handwritten by her--her own memories of her wedding.

She had a wedding shower. I notice that now we have several of them: kitchen, linen, personal, couples...she had *one*. She made quite a haul, mostly with linens. Several sets of "luncheon cloth and napkins"--those fabulous 1940's sets that we snatch up at antique stores. "Embroidered tea towels." "Embroidered pillowslips." Don't I wish I had them now? But, naturally, they were given and received in order to be used, and used UP. (I do have one of a pair of guest towels that she embroidered in the first year of her marriage--so threadbare, but it still says GUEST, with a garland of flowers all around.)

When we buy these vintage linens, we always think about the women who made them and used them. We'd love to feel the connection to another time. Women just like my mother, whose entry under "Our First Home," tells of how, after their wedding night, they just wanted to come home, so they "brought groceries home, and [she] fixed her first meal," the second night of their marriage.

So much lay ahead for them--they were married months before Pearl Harbor. They were destined to raise only five of their thirteen children to adulthood. Two cancers. The everyday ups and downs plus the "added dose" of sorrow for their lives, could not be seen when she filled out her "bride's book."

We all share that, in this Sisterhood of women. So many hopes and dreams as we open those wedding shower gifts. Life moves along, humdrum or tragic, year by year. I am so grateful to our Lord that He gave my parents 64 years. A marriage in which their love grew more deeply as every anniversary rolled around. I had a model of How to Do Marriage Well that enabled me to choose a husband wisely, and to be an example for me, for 30 years so far, and is now the model for my children to follow. That is the inheritance I have from them. I would have loved to have the linens from that long-ago bridal shower, but I have the better gift in the example of their LIVES. That gift will never be "used up."

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I don't usually post on Sundays, (and I don't know why the *BOLD* won't turn off) but today's sermon at my church really spoke to me. At the prayer time, one of the pastors read Isaiah 55:

   ¹Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters, and he that hath no money; come ye, buy, and eat; yea, come, buy wine and milk without money and without price.

   ²Wherefore do ye spend money for that which is not bread? and your labour for that which satisfieth not? hearken diligently unto me, and eat ye that which is good, and let your soul delight itself in fatness.

   ³Incline your ear, and come unto me: hear, and your soul shall live; and I will make an everlasting covenant with you, even the sure mercies of David.  

   ⁷Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts: and let him return unto the LORD, and he will have mercy upon him; and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon.

   ⁸For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the LORD.

   ⁹For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts.

   ¹⁰For as the rain cometh down, and the snow from heaven, and returneth not thither, but watereth the earth, and maketh it bring forth and bud, that it may give seed to the sower, and bread to the eater:

   ¹¹So shall my word be that goeth forth out of my mouth: it shall not return unto me void, but it shall accomplish that which I please, and it shall prosper in the thing whereto I sent it.

   ¹²For ye shall go out with joy, and be led forth with peace: the mountains and the hills shall break forth before you into singing, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands.

   ¹³Instead of the thorn shall come up the fir tree, and instead of the brier shall come up the myrtle tree: and it shall be to the LORD for a name, for an everlasting sign that shall not be cut off.

What a chapter full of promise!

The sermon was from the first chapter of Ephesians, talking about Who We Are. Most of us have heard this passage preached before, about Our Position in the Heavenlies, and how we are "holy and without blame" through the work of Jesus Christ. The passage also tells us that we are Sealed with the Spirit.

We all know that, even if we are "holy and without blame" in the heavenlies, we are Stuh-rugglin' Down Here. Here is where We Do Stuff. Or Stuff Happens to Us. And our Enemy is right at hand to Condemn. To tell us what a Loser We Are. How God Can't Love Us anymore, we  have messed up Too Many Times. Or how such-and-such Bad Thing happened to us through Our Own Fault.

Of course, the Enemy has no authority over us (seeing that we are Sealed by the Holy Spirit, and Holy and Blameless and all that). I think about the scene in the Wizard of Oz movie where Glinda is speaking to the Wicked Witch of the West:

"You have no power here. Now, Go, before somebody drops a house on you!"

Sometimes, though, the Lord has to bring us to the end of our own strength, to show us how much we need His strength:

"The eyes of your understanding being enlightened; that ye may know what is the hope of his calling, and what the riches of the glory of his inheritance in the saints." Eph. 1:18

Think about this: The difficulty you are experiencing is preparing us for our destiny in Him.

I have been caught up in the *humanness* of life (read: struggling) for weeks and months now. I just needed this reminder to get my focus switched back on the mark. Maybe you are there, too.

This (Breathe) will be my song this week:

"This is the air I breathe/Your holy presence living in  me.

This is my daily bread/Your very word spoken to me.

And I'm desperate for you/I'm lost without You."

NOW I'm ready for my week.

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From my One-Year Bible:

Let the words of my mouth, and the meditation of my heart, be acceptable in thy sight, O LORD, my strength, and my Redeemer.

Psalm 19:14 

I carry a tape measure in my purse. It is good for measuring pants at the thrift store, if the size tag has been ripped out, or if the pants have been hemmed by the original owner.

I also carry a 3 x 5 card in my wallet, with the names of books I own in a "series", when I find a used book that I think I "might" need. I started this after purchasing three copies of A Light in the Window  from the "Mitford" series. Also on the list are the  ten volumes of the "Life of the..."  series of reference books. (Life of the Meadow, Life of the Cave, etc.) These books I inherited from Charming's mother, but they were destroyed in a flood. I find them from time to time, as well, but who needs two of any one of them?

There is also a card with the tracing of a doll's foot. I have purchased some "fake" American Girl-style dolls for my daughters, and I compare the foot size with doll shoes sold at craft stores. Took care of the problem I had one Christmas of buying black patent-leather shoes that were miles too big.

The verse above just smacked me in the face today. It is like reducing the 10 Commandments to a card the size of a business card, that I could carry around in my purse. Anything I do, say, or think could quickly be compared to this standard. It is kind of like the Golden Rule from Matthew 7:12, which says "for this *is* the Law and the Prophets."

The first part of Psalm 19:14, "Let the words of my mouth be acceptable to You," oh, what a directive. This would cover not only "speaking the truth with love," (that How I Speak thing) but gossip and foolish speaking as well. How many of my 35,000 words-a-day would be thrown out under this standard?

And then the second part, "[Let the] meditations of my heart..." This means not only my thoughts, but actions as well. For what action on my part is not preceded by thought? Wasted time, or even foolish spending of my time. No wonder I think I don't have "time" to do the things I want to do. (oh, yeah, and that passage in Romans about "doing what I don't want, and not doing what I do want...")

Frankly, if my thoughts and actions of this very day were put to that standard, my *good stuff* would still be sitting at breakfast time. In fact, this is 3:30 am the *next* morning, because I can't get my mind to go to bed. Probably the mix of late caffeine and Junk tv last evening.

This is a real wake-up call for me to Examine Myself. I have John  3:16: "the Gospel in a verse." And Matthew 7:12: "the Law and the Prophets." Now I can add Psalm 19:14: the "tape measure" to measure my thoughts and actions.

Now, if I can just remember that it's in my purse. And then remember to Pull It Out.

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[Several trees are talking among themselves. They are in a raging storm--wind-tossed, leaves torn from their branches, branches broken off and lying at their feet. They despair of life: "Why were we ever created?"]

The observer: "Will the day ever come when storms and woe will cease? Order and peace were meant, but death and ruin come to pass."

The Owl: "...Only one law is given--the law of order, harmony, and joy."

The observer: "Alas, how often broken!"

The Owl: "Ay, but disturbance is no law, and therefore cannot last. Disorder, death, destruction:--by their own nature they are transitory--rebellious powers that struggle for a time, and frustrate here and there the gracious purposes ordained. But they exist not of themselves; have neither law nor being in themselves; exist but as disturbers of a scheme whose deep foundations cannot be overthrown. Life, order, harmony, and peace; means duly fitting ends; the object, universal joy. This is the law. Believe it and live!"

--Parables of Nature by Margaret Gatty, 1923

I so often forget that the sinful, fallen world we live in is a product of rebellion, by Lucifer first, and Adam whom he deceived. God created the world with the law of "order, harmony, and joy."

We all are subject to The Fall, both in little irritations and genuine crises. But the Law of Order, Harmony, and Joy is still there--no one can steal our Joy unless we hand it over willingly.

Maybe if I practice remembering what the Law is, during times of little irritations, it won't be so Hard to Find during times of genuine crisis.

Hmmm. My food for thought for today.

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"A mind is a fire to kindle, not a vessel to fill."

--Plutarch

It always amazes me when I see a quote like this one attributed to someone who lived almost two thousand years ago. We seem to attribute this kind of thinking to educators of the nineteenth century, like Charlotte Mason. I have read that Bronson Alcott (Louisa's father) was also a pioneer of education in his day. One of the things he is credited with is ending the practice of schoolroom windows being painted over so that children could "concentrate." Alcott believed that it would be beneficial for windows to be wide open during the schoolday--that even that small interaction with creation would be beneficial.

I have read a comparison between public schools and factories--that children move along a virtual conveyor belt for 13 years, and at each station, more knowledge is put in, in order that, at the end of the "line," you have beings which all have the same knowledge. I am sure that, whatever the "powers that be" do wrong, that they desire to "fill" our children with the knowledge they feel is necessary to function in the world. We, of course, have a different idea of what is Necessary. A Christian worldview would require other things, one of which is the Ability to Think.

So, as we educate our children, most of us have, as one of our top goals, to instill a Love for Learning, as well as How to Learn. That way, anything they "need" along the way will be available to them. This sounds remarkably like the "fire to kindle" that Plutarch talks about.

One of our goals for our family, that Charming and I discussed during our courtship, was to "teach our children How to Think." How to process all of the information that bombards us daily, and to be able to sift Truth from untruth, and the Better from the merely ordinary.

We have found, having six already grown and two teen-agers, that we have accomplished this...very well. Our children know what they believe, and can articulate it. Some things are not the same as their parents' beliefs, but part of the reason is that *our* view on things has evolved over the years, as well. They have the zeal of people in their twenties. Their views will be tempered with age and life experiences. But if you just "fill the vessel" and don't "kindle the fire," you will end up with robots that can function in a fashion, but be very vulnerable to anything that comes along the pike. The Enemy would be very happy with this scenario; it is our job to make sure it doesn't happen with Our Children.

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Next time: "I don't know what the world is coming to. My child shows no respect for me. This next generation is going to [heck] in a handbasket." Paraphrase of a quote I read by:

Plato.

What is that from Ecclesiastes? "There is nothing new under the sun?" Please, Kindle the Fire. We need it.

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I am a little older than many of my fellow-homeschool moms. I remember when Martin Luther King was Marching On Washington. I remember seeing Lyndon Johnson on the nightly news (with Walter Cronkhite) signing the Civil Rights Bill. But, living in the north, it didn't touch me quite the same as in the South.

Grownups in my world were not always kind, however. I heard this line a number of times: "Those d*mned furriners are ruining this country." The current debate concerning illegal aliens brought this to mind again.

Now, the people to which the grownups referred were definitely "legal," but it was their Foreign Looks and their Foreign Talk and their Foreign Ways that rocked their white-bread world. My family has been "here" since 1739; Charming's arrived before 1700. So we are Old-Timers. But, since the country was proud of its "melting-pot" description, I was a little puzzled.

I went through school with a couple of classmates of Mexican extraction. But they spoke English as well as I did, and since we wore [Catholic-school] uniforms for twelve years, I didn't notice a cultural difference. Back then, there was no "race" labeled Hispanic--Hispanics (as well as Italians and Greeks) were simply "white."

I did not have a lot of exposure to black culture, either. There was only one black family in my subdivision growing up, and there was not a black student in my school until after Christmas of junior year. My last year in school, there was a black freshman, so Then There Were Two.

In contrast, my older six children went to a decidedly "urban" high school. In fact, it has been named the fourth most-diverse high school in the country. A Big Deal for the Provincial Midwest. For instance, our city has the largest Burmese population outside of Burma (about three thousand refugees). My kids went to school with Laotians, Vietnamese, Cambodians, blacks, Mexicans-and-several-other-Hispanic groups. Now, *they* are Culturally Well-rounded.

This current debate is so complicated. Amnesty sounds like a huge Pandora's box. And, it only complicates things when it becomes a Campaign Issue. We just need to pray that our President and other leaders follow God's leading in this matter.

"These d*mned politians will be the ruin of this country," those Grownups would say.

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We've been talking about names this weekend. Johnny Tremain, a second-grade teacher, has twins in his class named Le-MON-je-low and Or-ONGE-e-low. These are spelled Lemonjello and Orangejello. Yep, Lemon Jello and Orange Jello.

Whew.

Johnny and Joe Hardy used to work with another set of twins--Lazarus and Latarus. (La-ZAH-rus and La-TAR-us)--they were called "Z" and "T" for short. I thought that was kind of cute, myself.

When I was younger, I worked for two years as a phlebotomist--those lovely people who draw blood from you. I walked into a hospital room one day to draw from a man in his '50's named Laundromat Jones. "I must ask you where you got your name?" "Well, my mother did not know what to name me, so she looked out the window of the hospital room, and a Laundromat was the first thing she saw." Well, with a name as common as "Jones," I guess that worked.

African-Americans are so creative with their names. Sometimes, though, I feel sorry for kids who will never be able to buy "Michael" or "Jennifer" pencils off the rack.

African-Americans are not the only creative ones, however. Violet went to college with a girl named Sunshine Cherry. ("were you hippies?" I asked the mother.) Oh. Yeah.

Joe Hardy went to school with a Dinty Joe Musk. (beef stew fortune???) If you watched American Idol this season, you will remember Sundance Head. I always wanted to name my hippie-baby Willow, but that was a no-go for Charming.

Sometimes you need to think about how the name will sound on a forty-year old. I read a comment on a blog recently from a lady named Lullaby. Yep, looking at that seven-pound beauty in your arms, it sounds reasonable. But what if she grows up to be a nuclear physicist?

Joe Hardy's middle name is Saul. It means "prayed for." Joe is a child of promise--after Charming's indiscretion, the Lord healed our marriage gloriously. He moved us to a different town with a different job, and within a month, I was pregnant. It was a seal to what the Lord had done.

Anyway, Joe HATED his name for about 22 years. He didn't want anyone to know it. Well, it *is* a little weird, and possibly, we would have chosen differently, had we known what a problem it would be for him. However, in the last few years he has come to appreciate his name and its meaning.

I love my name--it is distinctly '50's--there were four Barbaras in my class at school. As well as four Kathys, four Karens, and four Lindas. I share a name with my great-grandmother, as well, which makes it more special. I love when Charming says my name, and I wish I could hear my mother say it again. So, not all of us have *weird* names.

I love the promise in Revelations 2:17: "To him who overcomes...I will give a white stone with a new name written on it, known only to the person who receives it." So, even if our parents "saddled" us with something that isn't to our liking, we can trust that the Lord has the Perfect Name for us, that will last us for all eternity.

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"The strains of The Arcadians floated from the bathroom strongly. Ah, there was fun for you, thought Mrs. Bailey! If only people would realize that light-hearted and gay things were not any less significant than the violent and brutish, what a step forward it would be. Because a song, a book, a play, a picture, or anything created was gay, it did not necessarily follow that it was trivial. It might well be, mused Mrs. Bailey gazing into the moving sunshine with unseeing eyes, a finer thing because it had been fashioned with greater care and artifice; emotion remembered and translated to give pleasure, rather than emotion remembered and evincing only an involuntary and quite hideous howl."

--Thrush Green by Miss Read, p. 49.

My daughter Violet (who has a B.A. in Theatre) and I have had a discussion many times on the Definition of Art. You know how it goes--the disgusting things that pass for "art" in the World, that cater to our most prurient human natures--those things *I* reject as Art. For me, Art should be products of the marvelous creative mind given by God, to uplift the human condition, to celebrate and magnify the Creator and His creation. Like the verse in Philippians--"whatsoever things are good, right, just, "of good report"--think on these things."

Violet disagrees, and says there is place for showing the "darker" side of human nature. I agree to a point--we must know about things like the Holocaust. My mother, who detested nudity in film without exception, *did* make exception in her later years. She saw "Shindler's List," and told me that the images of the prisoners was a very powerful one, that caused her to think deeply of many issues. I also agree that there is some kind of place for things related to our darker nature--where would hope be for victims of abuse, if they did not know that "someone" understood them, and voiced their sympathy through art of some kind?

This is a complicated issue for me. I know that I am not well-served by steeping myself in "dark" things, be they visual or written. Yet, Christ calls us to compassion and love for all humans, *all* of whom He loves unconditionally.

So how do I resolve this dichotomy? I am very blessed in that I was raised in a loving family environment--I also have a devoted husband of more than thirty years, and children who are serving the Lord. I don't *live* "down in the trenches." So, for me, if I write, if I create art in some form (my passion is quilting, for example), I want it to bless people, show them the wonders of God's creation, celebrate His goodness.

Maybe if my own circumstances were different, I would take a different view. Does anyone else have an opinion on this? I welcome thoughts on this issue.

Thanks for listening.

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