May 20, 2009
WHICH STUFF–MINE OR YOURS?
A friend told me that she is having a huge clean-out. She is tired of having too many things and having so much clutter. She went to the sanctuary of her church and thought about this sincerely, praying that God would give her the ability to let go of Things.
I think it’s great. I agree with her very very much, and I wish for this in my life too.
But I’m still going to her yard sale to see if there’s any of her stuff that could become MY stuff.
April 1, 2009
I’m still smiling about the English Country Dance ball I did for the college students a couple of weeks ago. I don’t have any photos of that one, but here is one from the past:
The Pemberley Promenade, November 2008
Have you ever had moments of sudden clarity, or times when you felt connected, wholly seated, with people of the past? I get this feeling whenever I read Hebrews 11 and 12, where the writer enumerates a whole list of people, one by one, in whom faith worked in their lives. And then he says:
“Therefore, since we have so great a cloud of winesses surrounding us, let us also lay aside every encumbrance, and the sin which so easily entangles us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us….” (Hebrews 12:1).
How inspiring that is!
I also feel a strong connection on Sunday morning, when we all stand up and hear the pastor call us to worship. As we raise our voices in song, I look down at the hymnbook and I see the year in which the hymn was written, or the year in which the tune was created, and I’m deeply moved. To THINK that centuries ago, people of faith stood and worshipped this way too.
What were they like? What did they wear and eat, how did they live? It doesn’t completely matter; the fact is, they were just like me: raising their families, trying to make a living, striving to live a godly life in the middle of a fallen world. And praising God in corporate worship.
At that time, I also think of my Christian friends in various parts of the world who are also singing in church. Because of the time change, maybe earlier or maybe later. But there we are: together.
Dancing folk dance is like that too–a connection to the past, where all people are alike in the enjoyment of simple pleasures. As I call the dances and watch the ebb and flow of the dancers, the smiles and laughter make me laugh too. “Nothing new under the sun”–and sometimes that’s a GREAT thing!
Contradance, December 2006
March 30, 2009
It interests me, that all through our lives–if we seek to think about others more than ourselves–we will give and adapt and adjust in order to sustain and cultivate relationships.
Parenting demands more of this than any other, perhaps. I suppose it depends upon our personality, as to what amount of “giving in” we need to do in our marriage, our parenting, and with friends.
And of course there’s a fine line between doing what is needed, and doing too much.
And some of it is not “giving in” at all, but just plain pride in what our loved one has accomplished!
In keeping with my tradition of supplying scotch tape to my toddler, bread twist-ties to my preschooler, and countertop space to my semi-adult son, this weekend I changed the decor of my kitchen. It will be so for a while, anyway.
BEFORE
AFTER
My Older Son has been taking a ceramics class in college this semester. Given his serious passion with antiquity, he has produced all his pottery in the Anglo-Saxon style.
This too shall pass?
He has signed up for Advanced Ceramics next semester.
March 23, 2009
Here is a homemaker’s version of “downsizing”–moving the leftovers from the large container into a smaller one:
March 4, 2009
You would think that an 89-year-old woman, who had remarried and moved to Arizona for 22 years and then come back to spend a few years in assisted living and/or nursing home wouldn’t generate much interest. But the visiting lines for my mother-in-law at the funeral home were very long-and without too much sorrow.
One of the reasons is that she had four children, and they are all believers in Christ. Five churches were heavily represented last night: her own, and those of each of her children. Add a lot of Christian relatives in there, and you have quite a gathering of saints-maybe a glimpse of what heaven will be like.
This morning my hand still smells of other folks’ perfume; perhaps that is a taste of heaven too.
March 4, 2009
Have you ever seen the opening sequence of the sci-fi Doctor Who episode called The Runaway Bride? It’s very fun. A woman dressed in complete bridal costume quite suddenly appears on the Doctor’s spaceship.
He looks at her, and she looks at him and he looks at her and she looks at him. The conversation goes like this:
“What??!!” he says.
“Ooo?!!” she says.
“What??!!”
“Who are you?”
“Mmph???!!”
“Where am I?”
“What??!!”
“What the __ is this place?”
“What??!!”
I was thinking of this today when we were remembering the moment my mother-in-law died. The pastor spoke about meeting Jesus and how He will be no stranger and I remembered Doctor Who, imagining what could happen when we cross over the threshold and see Jesus in person with our very own eyes.
You?
You!
You?!
You!!
You!!
You!!
Said in love and sureness and wonderment and excitement and thrill and triumph and joy.
March 2, 2009
My husband’s mother went to be with the Lord yesterday. Isn’t that an amazing thing?
We were all able to be with her in the nursing home as she passed from this world to the next; her breathing was so labored, and still she lingered. Then we sang that good old chorus:
Jesus, Jesus, Jesus–there’s just something about that name.
Jesus, Jesus, Jesus–like the fragrance after the rain.
Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, let all heaven and earth proclaim….
Kings and kingdoms will all pass away, but there’s something about that name.
And the instant we finished, she stopped breathing and went straight into His arms! We all cried with grief, but also with excitement, and yes, with a little bit of envy, too.
February 14, 2009
Valentine’s Day was always a special event when I was growing up, because my mother always bought us a little gift and candy. I still have the plastic pin she bought me, and each year I manage to find an occasion on which to wear it.
I’ve carried on the tradition by always buying some Reese’s peanut butter cups for my guys, along with making a personalized Valentine for each. For example, when the boys were into dinosaurs, I cut out red dinosaurs with something like “I’m stomping over to you to tell you I love you” or somesuch.
But this year, I was out of ideas.
The internet showed how to make an origami heart, so midnight last night found me struggling and exasperated trying out to make sense out of those directions. I could NOT do it! I finally found a different heart on a different website, and finished by beating out a ragged form that was kinda like a heart; it was easy enough to think of a slogan to write on it. I decided one heart was enough, and that prize went to my husband.
I also broke tradition by giving him a small gift, enlarging and framing a photo recently found when unearthing old treasures. This is a Christmas card his family sent to friends in 1961. Chip is the youngest of the family.
As for myself, I snitch a bit of the others’ candy.And Chip usually gives me flowers, which were particularly lovely this year.
I had a flower from another source too: my chiropractor, who gave a carnation to each of his lady customers!
Supper for us on Valentine’s Day is always the same menu, simply because I looked through a cookbook 27 years ago to find something different to fix when Chip was coming to visit me on this special day. I remember painstakingly following this new recipe, as Chip sat in a corner of my small kitchen, keeping me company. Disney’s Parent Trap was playing on the television in the other room.
Here is what we always have:
Chicken Imperial (from Good Housekeeping Illustrated)
Mashed potatoes
Carrots with brown sugar glaze (Betty Crocker)
Company cheesecake with strawberry topping (Betty Crocker)
Chicken Imperial has ALWAYS been very very good to eat, even when through the years we’ve done it differently–without flour, with gluten-free flour, with rice milk, with soy milk, or with water replacing the cooking sherry. Here is the recipe:
Chicken Imperial
(with my comments in parentheses-as you can see, I’m not fancy!)
4 large whole chicken breasts, skinned (I use 3 lb. cut into small pieces)
¼ to ½ C. flour
½ C. butter
1 lb. small mushrooms–quartered (I use 8 oz. chopped)
1 T. minced onion (I use a bit of onion powder)
1 C. heavy or whipping cream
¼ C. dry sherry
1 ½ tsp. salt (I use 1 tsp. nowadays)
1/8 tsp. pepper
2 T. water
1. Coat chicken with the flour.In 12-inch skillet over medium heat, in hot butter, cook chicken till lightly browned on all sides. Put aside.
2. In drippings in skillet over medium heat, cook mushrooms and onion for 5 minutes, stirring frequently. Stir in cream, sherry, salt and pepper and stir to blend well.
3. Return chicken to skillet. Reduce heat to low; cover skillet and simmer 20 minutes or till chicken is fork-tender.
4. To thicken sauce (which I usually skip): Blend 1 T. flour with water. Gradually add to pan liquid, stirring constantly, and cook till mixture is thickened.
5. To serve: Spoon sauce over chicken and/or put sauce in a gravy boat for the mashed potatoes.
Now to the subject of the greatest love of all: Yesterday I had the privilege of listening to the first eight chapters of the letter the apostle Paul had written to the Romans; when you hear the Word of God in big batches, it is so fine. And when I listened, I tried to think of what it would be like living in that time and hearing Paul say those words. Paul points out how terribly bad we are, and how hopeless it is to try to make amends for it ourselves. It makes you feel horrified.
Then Paul explains how God passes over our sins, because Jesus paid the price for it. By His grace, as a gift to us, he says.
Can you imagine it? The people of that time knew so many gods, and these gods were so cruel; they demanded behavior and sacrifices to be just so, and you could never really tell whether or not they were going to be appeased (and isn’t that really what it’s like now too?). But here is such a different God, the real God, who is so unlike the others (who were never real at all). A God we can cry out to like children, and He is our papa. A papa who loves us, gives us assurance, and gives us all hope for the future.
The passage ends with such a strong and definite promise: Romans 8:38–“For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”
WHO needs ANYthing else?
February 12, 2009
I’ve been thinking about My Tiny Kingdom’s Flashback Friday’s theme of
LOVE, LOOK AT THE TWO OF US
and how that could really apply to just about anything. For example, a person could post about a good ol’ friend one had way back in 1977–
I (nicknamed Spike) traveled down to St. Antonio, Texas with my friend (nicknamed Chester) and her husband, to visit her in-laws. This photo was taken after a little foray across the border into Mexico.
But then I remembered some photos of my parents that I really treasure, and decided to show these instead.
This is a picture of my dad and I taken thirty-two years ago, in front of the fireplace in the house that my parents built. Many of the rocks in the fireplace have special meaning (for example, there’s a rock from the place where he grew up, and there are also rocks especially selected by the neighbors just for this occasion). The hurricane lamp and clock belonged to my great-grandparents. The attire Dad is wearing was everyday stuff for him, but mine was kind of special. Note the bell-bottoms on my bibs!
Then there’s Mom and I. Here are our feet, on the day in Gulf Shores, Alabama, when we splurged and bought ourselves something new on the market, before they were so “all the rage.” I remember that when we wore these to a fast-food restaurant, some ladies made disparaging remarks behind our backs. They’re both probably wearing bright orange ones right this minute!
And here we are four years ago at Loch Lomond, Scotland, on a day that rained and rained and rained.
The Chickadee Feeder 