I was so excited to learn today that my baby blog has received an award! Keli Gwyn at Romance Writers on the Journey http://www.romancewritersonthejourney.wordpress.com gave my little site the Lemonade Stand Award for a site showing "great attitude and gratitude" and the One Lovely Blog Award.
By the way, Keli's blog is an amazing resource for writers on the road to publication, chockful of tips, resources, and interviews.
UNDER HIS WINGS
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Fun with Pretzels
While I'm a firm believer in God's mercy, when it comes to school projects, I think I may be cursed.Last Thursday at fifth-grade Open House, my son Matthew showed off his state report on Kentucky. While enjoying the kids' artwork, I noticed a handful of Big Projects - you know the kind with plywood and styrofoam and plastic trees.
"Um, Matthew," I say. "Were you supposed to do a Big Project?"
His blue eyes stretch wide. He tucks his lips in.
"Well...?"
"Um, yeah. It's due Tuesday."
"Tuesday?" I'm calculating - it's Thursday night. I'm working Friday night, having guests for Saturday dinner, going to a friend's house Sunday, holiday plans on Monday. Then comes Tuesday.
"I'm going to build Fort Boonesborough in Kentucky. I'm planning it in my head."
My head hurts. Rewind thirty-odd years. In fourth grade Mrs. Dickey (whom I adored) assigned the Big California Mission Project. I made plans in my head, fabulous plans, but I did nothing. In fifth grade Mrs. Bush (who kind of scared me) assigned the Big US History Project. I made lovely, detailed mental plans. Again, I didn't turn anything in.
This - this is my punishment. Three children. Six Big Projects. And this is the sixth time it's been sprung on me close to - or after - the due date. I need Motrin.
Thursday night: Internet search on Fort Boonesborough, convert mental plans to paper plans, notice that pretzel sticks look like tiny logs.
Friday afternoon: buy craft supplies and jumbo bag of pretzels, send desperate Facebook plea for recipe for fake dirt.
Saturday while cleaning and cooking for BBQ: Matthew constructs fort from cardboard and pretzels.
Sunday & Monday: mix sand, paint, and white glue to make glop for ground. Matthew sets in buildings and trees. Trees fall over. Hot glue trees. Burn self with hot glue gun.
Tuesday: Matthew carts project to school. I eat chocolate. And pretzels.
I can't wait for the seventh-grade Big Cell Model Project. Hmm, pretzels would make great microtubules...
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Peaches
Grandpa laughed at his own jokes.
Rather than weakening stories, Fred Stewart's laughter strengthened them. He'd tell jokes in his straight-backed chair, arms folded, and his shoulders shook with laughter. Old jokes. Corny jokes. But he told them so well, I laughed too, even when I was a too-sophisticated college student.
Grandpa was a World War II veteran, a businessman of wisdom and integrity, and a valued member of church finance committees. He enjoyed walks in the California desert with my grandmother and took his two sons white-water rafting after he retired. I am blessed to be his granddaughter.
When his heart gave way in 1992, his memorial service packed the sanctuary, and my grandmother's home filled with out-of-town relatives, including a ravenous women in her third trimester (me). The logistics of feeding the crowd could have compounded Grandma's grief, but the people of the church reached out with tangible love and provided meals. They stuffed the refrigerator with lasagna, enchiladas, fried rice - and peaches.
Grandpa passed away in August. Peach season.
We received peach pies, cobblers, and jam. Bags of fresh peaches covered Grandma's kitchen counter. The scent of peaches permeated the house. As the week passed and the fruit piled up, we struggled to suppress laughter when yet another friend presented peaches with pride and delight. After they left, the laughter came, and with the laughter came tears. Grandpa would have relished the humor, he would have told the story often and well, and he would have chuckled when he told it.
Whenever I see a peach, I recall the rosiness of Grandpa's face when he laughed and the sweetness of the gifts my family received in our grief.
The gift of peaches. The gift of laughter.
Rather than weakening stories, Fred Stewart's laughter strengthened them. He'd tell jokes in his straight-backed chair, arms folded, and his shoulders shook with laughter. Old jokes. Corny jokes. But he told them so well, I laughed too, even when I was a too-sophisticated college student.
Grandpa was a World War II veteran, a businessman of wisdom and integrity, and a valued member of church finance committees. He enjoyed walks in the California desert with my grandmother and took his two sons white-water rafting after he retired. I am blessed to be his granddaughter.
When his heart gave way in 1992, his memorial service packed the sanctuary, and my grandmother's home filled with out-of-town relatives, including a ravenous women in her third trimester (me). The logistics of feeding the crowd could have compounded Grandma's grief, but the people of the church reached out with tangible love and provided meals. They stuffed the refrigerator with lasagna, enchiladas, fried rice - and peaches.
Grandpa passed away in August. Peach season.
We received peach pies, cobblers, and jam. Bags of fresh peaches covered Grandma's kitchen counter. The scent of peaches permeated the house. As the week passed and the fruit piled up, we struggled to suppress laughter when yet another friend presented peaches with pride and delight. After they left, the laughter came, and with the laughter came tears. Grandpa would have relished the humor, he would have told the story often and well, and he would have chuckled when he told it.
Whenever I see a peach, I recall the rosiness of Grandpa's face when he laughed and the sweetness of the gifts my family received in our grief.
The gift of peaches. The gift of laughter.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Arrogant, Overfed, and Unconcerned
Has the Lord ever given you the same message from different sources? It gives you goosebumps, doesn’t it? When God repeats something, it must be important.
My women’s Bible study has been studying "The Organic God," a refreshing, powerful book by Margaret Feinberg. No, this is not about a tofu-eating, Birkenstock-clad Jesus, but about seeing God for who He is, in all the purity of His character. This week we looked at Ezekiel 16:49: “’Now this was the sin of your sister Sodom: She and her daughters were arrogant, overfed and unconcerned; they did not help the poor and needy.’”
Then today I prepared for my Sunday school lesson in Nehemiah and read: “’You warned them to return to your law, but they became arrogant and disobeyed your commands’” (Nehemiah 9:29), and “’They ate to the full and were well-nourished; they reveled in your great goodness. But they were disobedient and rebelled against you; they put your law behind their backs’” (Nehemiah 9:25-26).
Arrogant. Overfed. Unconcerned. Sound familiar?
How can we follow the path of Israel’s restoration rather than Sodom’s destruction? We can look to Israel’s humble prayer of confession, acknowledging God’s sovereignty. “’In all that has happened to us, you have been just; you have acted faithfully, while we did wrong’” (Nehemiah 9:33).
In our land of prosperity and abundance - even in today's economic crisis - these sinful attitudes subtly creep into our lives when we aren't paying attention. Let's be on the alert, humble ourselves before God, and cultivate concern for others.
My women’s Bible study has been studying "The Organic God," a refreshing, powerful book by Margaret Feinberg. No, this is not about a tofu-eating, Birkenstock-clad Jesus, but about seeing God for who He is, in all the purity of His character. This week we looked at Ezekiel 16:49: “’Now this was the sin of your sister Sodom: She and her daughters were arrogant, overfed and unconcerned; they did not help the poor and needy.’”
Then today I prepared for my Sunday school lesson in Nehemiah and read: “’You warned them to return to your law, but they became arrogant and disobeyed your commands’” (Nehemiah 9:29), and “’They ate to the full and were well-nourished; they reveled in your great goodness. But they were disobedient and rebelled against you; they put your law behind their backs’” (Nehemiah 9:25-26).
Arrogant. Overfed. Unconcerned. Sound familiar?
How can we follow the path of Israel’s restoration rather than Sodom’s destruction? We can look to Israel’s humble prayer of confession, acknowledging God’s sovereignty. “’In all that has happened to us, you have been just; you have acted faithfully, while we did wrong’” (Nehemiah 9:33).
In our land of prosperity and abundance - even in today's economic crisis - these sinful attitudes subtly creep into our lives when we aren't paying attention. Let's be on the alert, humble ourselves before God, and cultivate concern for others.
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Mucking Out
The plastic bag held something white and lumpy. The label said "ground beef."
Today my new refrigerator was delivered, but first I had to muck out the old one. Unpleasant finds included the freezer-burnt beef, moldy leftovers, and liquified veggies. They were once fresh and tasty and healthful, but I shoved them to the back, forgot about them, and let them rot.
How much more important to muck out my soul!
Jesus saved His harshest words not for those living in sin or even for those who crucified Him - but for those who claimed to be devout. "'Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You are like whitewashed tombs, which look beautiful on the outside but on the inside are full of dead men's bones and everything unclean. In the same way, on the outside you appear to people as righteous but on the inside you are full of hypocrisy and wickedness'" (Matthew 23:27-28).
If I don't regularly muck out my soul, good things can fester. A fresh love of righteousness can burn into a frigid judgmental spirit. A tasty joy for God's Word can mold into sour legalism. A healthy confidence in God can liquefy into putrid pride.
Lord, shine Your light into my soul, show me sin and hypocrisy, and help me muck it out!
Today my new refrigerator was delivered, but first I had to muck out the old one. Unpleasant finds included the freezer-burnt beef, moldy leftovers, and liquified veggies. They were once fresh and tasty and healthful, but I shoved them to the back, forgot about them, and let them rot.
How much more important to muck out my soul!
Jesus saved His harshest words not for those living in sin or even for those who crucified Him - but for those who claimed to be devout. "'Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You are like whitewashed tombs, which look beautiful on the outside but on the inside are full of dead men's bones and everything unclean. In the same way, on the outside you appear to people as righteous but on the inside you are full of hypocrisy and wickedness'" (Matthew 23:27-28).
If I don't regularly muck out my soul, good things can fester. A fresh love of righteousness can burn into a frigid judgmental spirit. A tasty joy for God's Word can mold into sour legalism. A healthy confidence in God can liquefy into putrid pride.
Lord, shine Your light into my soul, show me sin and hypocrisy, and help me muck it out!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)