My Little Town

I can sometimes be a little bit harsh on Mertztown. I recently said I bet there is at least one man named Skeeter in this town. And while I maintain the highly likely mathematical possibility, I would like to paint a somewhat more serene picture of this place I call home.

Yes, there may be a few yards decorated with warn out freezers and old fire extinguishers, but it is also the kind of town where the mail can be delivered to your brother's house because until you moved in he was the only Rapp. And you often see the same people in the store. That's right the store, that is aptly located on Store Street, directly across from the post office, where everybody knows your name. I had to work that in, I just couldn't forgive myself for missing that opportunity.

Not to be mistaken, Mr. Rogers doesn't live here. Not only because he has passed away, but because people still ride your bumper as you slow down to turn into your driveway, sometimes people go the opposite direction of the arrows in the parking lot of the store, and when you are waiting for the Red Box people take their sweet old time not caring that you know what you want and would like to watch the movie sometime that day.

I know, we have a Red Box, and when I saw it outside the store, I had to think of the scene in Fiddler on The Roof when Motel the tailor got his new used sewing machine and people came from far and wide just to see this newfangled technology. I digress.

I fear I am not doing a good job of debunking that Skeeter thing. What I am taking the long way to Farmer Boyd's to say is that tonight as I took out the trash, I was overwhelmed by the brightness of the stars. I realized that giving up some of the conveniences of city life can give me what most have to travel an hour to see. And though as a child I could never find the dippers, I had no trouble tonight. I know I have no idea what all the constellations are and when they are out, but it doesn't matter to me. The fact that I could see so many stars was enough for me. I thought how each one was put in its place with purpose, purpose I may never know. I stood there, looking up, thinking of the wise men looking for the star of promise so long ago. I thought of how I should be looking for Jesus' second coming and praying for that day with hope and anticipation. Just then, and I kid you not, O Come, O Come Emmanuel started to play on the church bells from down the street.

It was what I like to call a movie moment. I have been looking for one this Christmas. I even went so far as to get into a slight altercation with one of my sisters because a "picture perfect" shopping trip wasn't working out. It is so funny how when I try to direct those perfect moments they fail miserably. And when I let go of those notions, God orchestrates things in such a way as to say, wait, look up, this is the moment I have for you. This is your Christmas movie scene this year. You are in the perfect part, the scene is set, and all the extras that I need are present.

That right there is my love note Christmas card from Heaven.

Every Two Weeks

I have had a bi-weekly reminder of God’s provision. I say bi-weekly as thought He has been silent in the interim, but bi-weekly is how often I get paid. The reminder of God’s provision is because the last four digits including decimal are 29.11. It is of no concern to you what precedes these numbers so I will continue.

The amount of my pay changed in the summer when a work purchase program ended and I received the remainder of my pay. It was perfect timing as He always has because I had been budgeting, trying to figure out when I could pay off such and such and how much I could save for a new car, and a down payment for a house. And I came to a realization that it still wasn’t enough for what I wanted to accomplish. However, it was and is enough for what I need.

It hit me one day when I opened the envelope to record in my bank book the deposit that God was trying to give me Jeremiah 29:11. 11 “For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”
God knows when all of those dreams will come true or if they will come true. I am to praise Him for providing what He provides, when He provides it.

I know that there are many who have had a rough financial time this year. I do not mean to smack a verse on it and make it all better. The context of the verse speaks volumes. God is speaking to the captives taken from Jerusalem to Babylon. He says, plant roots, it will be a while. Prosper in that city you find yourself, when the city prospers, you will prosper. Marry, have children, and all the while stay true to me because I am not finished with you. You won’t be there forever, just for seventy years, but I will come and fulfill my promises to you after that time. He says it best.
10 This is what the LORD says: "When seventy years are completed for Babylon, I will come to you and fulfill my gracious promise to bring you back to this place. 11 For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. 12 Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. 13 You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. 14 I will be found by you," declares the LORD, "and will bring you back from captivity. [b] I will gather you from all the nations and places where I have banished you," declares the LORD, "and will bring you back to the place from which I carried you into exile."

I know this is written to Israel, but I am encouraged by it today. I am reminded of Jesus’ words to the disciples in John 14;
1"Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God[a]; trust also in me. 2In my Father's house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you. 3And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. 4You know the way to the place where I am going."

As I read these words today, I am encouraged by the Truth that Jesus is coming back. He will one day according to His gracious promise, come and release us from this spiritual exile we find ourselves now. We have planted roots, married, multiplied, and prospered along with those who do not believe as we do. But all the while, we know we are not home.

There is a lot going on in this world, in our country, in our homes, in our individual lives. And when I start to get overwhelmed with all the possibilities and unknowns of the future, God reminds me He has the plans. And as much as I hate the need to know basis of any relationship, this is one I have to learn to accept, and one I need many reminders to be still and know that He is God. And so He gives them to me, if not sooner, every two weeks.

So, you will be noticing some old or reoccuring themes in some of the posts here. Just go with it. I haven't lost my mind, just cleaing up the drafts folder.

Fearfully and Wonderfully Made

Psalm 139:13-18

13 For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb.
14 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.
15 My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place. When I was woven together in the depths of the earth,
16 your eyes saw my unformed body. All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.
17 How precious to me are your thoughts, O God! How vast is the sum of them!
18 Were I to count them, they would outnumber the grains of sand. When I awake, I am still with you.

I have friends whose oldest boy was born without one of his hands. His arm is near the full length of the other one, but his hand is not there. While for others who do not know him it may be a surprise to see him when first meeting him, it has become to me, part of who he is. I really don’t notice it usually. He is so much more than the absence of his hand. It also helps that he isn’t still for more than five seconds at a time.

From the time he was very young he has been fitted with prosthesis to get him use to it. As he ages the complexity of the hand will improve. It is thought it may be so intricate as to play the piano some day. It is truly amazing what science can afford each new generation.

On Sunday I had the privilege of filling in for the three, four and five class. He was in the class. Our lesson was on how God created us, each one differently, each in His image, and each he knew since before we were born. We spoke on how some are tall, some are short, some have dark skin, some have light skin, but each loved equally by God and no one person ought to think himself more important than he is.

Our craft was to measure each child’s height, arm length, leg length, head circumference, and then each child would trace their hand and draw a self portrait in the designated rectangle.

When I got to this child, I measured the arm with the hand and wrote down the length. I moved on to his leg. He said, “Hey, what about this one? This one is different.” So, I said, “Okay, we can measure that one.” I finished measuring and once I was finished with all the other kids, I helped them trace their hands. I got to him again and traced his hand. And he said, “I want to trace this hand too, so everyone knows it’s me.” I said, “Okay, we can do that!”

As I began to trace his little nubby as they call it, I couldn’t help but be so excited that he was celebrating what many people would lament. I drew from around where his arm began to taper to the end and brought it up around the other side. As he lifted his arm off the paper I saw one perfectly formed hand next to an oddly misshapen nubby. As I looked at the paper I saw a thing of beauty, and though a hand was missing, it was complete and as it should be. It is my favorite craft I’ve been involved with to date.

“Suffer the little children to come unto Me.”, Jesus said. I’m so thankful for it, because kids have a way of rebuking adults of which they are blissfully unaware. There are many things I wish I could change about myself. I wish I were shorter, didn’t have the bone structure of my German heritage, could actually grow finger nails, and there are other things as well. But I cannot change my genetic makeup. And I shouldn’t want to. And when I see someone with something that has the potential of limiting him much more than any of my issues, I am reminded that I am ungrateful. And I realize I have forgotten that I am fearfully and wonderfully made.

Are You Freaking Kidding Me?

The things I am about to mention I did not see live. So, I am gathering information from news articles and video when I could find them. Having prefaced that, I'd like comment on Representative Wilson calling out during President Obama's speech, and Kanye West being his normal idiot self.



Representative Wilson, though ill timed and untactful at best was responding to a hotly debated national, high budget concern. I do not think he did the Republican party any favors with his outburst, but let's get real. In 1856 Preston Brooks beat Charles Sumner over the head until he was unconcious! That is a true scandal. That is something to apologize over and over about, not a sophomoric outburst. Wilson has apologized to the President directly. I wish people would focus on the topic of discussion that drew such a cry as opposed to repremanding the crier. He apologized, he knows he was an idiot for it, now move on. Smoke and mirrors, smoke and mirrors!



Contrastly, Kanye West grabs the microphone from a teenager accepting and award and says whatever he wants and people are "so over it". I mean like totally, how many times can he possibly say sorry? It's not like he pushed her or anything!



I tried to write my best valley girl, but I really cannot stand the intonation and I must get it out of my head now.



But my point is this, his remark was about a music video. A music video people. Who cares!? People are willing to move past his rudeness and get back to the business of entertainment, but we cannot let go of you lie and get back to serving the American people.



Please do not misunderstand. I do not think it is in any way becoming of anyone to disrupt a speech and especially that of the President. But with the topic at hand, I think we can all realize he let his emotions get the best of him. I've heard more strongly worded nonsense when listening to football recaps Monday morning.



I read one article that said Wilson meant to say "boy" at the end of his outburst. Oh please, get over it. The only people making a big deal out of the President's skin color are his supporters. I don't get it! My disagreements with him are soley on policy. Hence I dislike the governing policies just as much if not more so, of Nancy Pelosi. I have nothing nice to say about her and will end my mention of her post haste as to retain my Christian witness!



So I guess if I'm ever to make a public spectacle of myself I should be certain it is over somethign superfluous and inane. Heaven forbid I should voice my disdain for something potentially impacting billions of dollars and millions of people!

Excuse Me, Excuse Me, What's My Motivation?

I have been thinking a lot about running lately.  Mostly because I’ve been doing a lot of running.  More truthfully, slow jogging, but you get the picture.  I am training for a half marathon.  It is going to be the longest I’ve ever run at one time.  I suspended my gym membership to utilize the beauty of the outdoors, but with the weather this summer, it has been a constant game of thunderstorm tetris.  Now with the humidity we’ve seen the last two weeks, I have an added challenge.  But, no one ever said reaching a goal would be easy.  So, I continue to push myself, to try to go faster, farther, and keep my mind on my form and breathing. 

A lot can go through your mind while jogging.  I’ve prayed for nearly everyone I know and daydreamed about many things.  I’ve also thought about the apostle Paul and his use of the analogy of our Christian life being a race.  

I realize going into my “race”, that I’m not going to win.  Some would say, why would you try at something you know you won’t win? My goal is to finish.  If I finish, I win.  That is my prize.  Some may race for the prize of first over the finish line.  The day may come when that may be my goal.  For now, to finish without walking is my goal.  If I must walk because like the other day the humidity made it so I had to chew the air I was breathing, then so be it.  But my goal is to finish with a 14 minute average.  Starting this adventure my average was more like 15 minutes.  

Jogging is a very solitary activity.  It is in contrast to most things I enjoyed as a child and a teenager.  Volleyball, not so fun with one person.  There are only so many times you can bump the ball to yourself or practice setting, and then you just look sad.  Basketball, sure you can practice layups,  dribbling, and rebounds even, but again, there comes a point when you just want at least one other person to challenge you.  On the contrary, jogging for me is best when I am alone. 

 

On the occasion I find myself at the track by myself I relish it.  When people come and start jogging around I find myself comparing our speed, form, and breathing.  I become more focused on them than I am on myself which, for a jogger, is mental surrender.  So, I remind myself that this is for me.  It does not matter if others finish first.  I may be jogging more miles, and they may be training for speed and I’m training for endurance.  And that got me wondering what is that prize Paul is talking about? 

 

I started out trying to go fast, working on speed and wanting to be done within a certain amount of time.  Then I realized I needed to go for distance and started to work at going farther and farther.  The more miles I did, the better I became and naturally the time started to fall off as I became faster.  My goal of distance helped me reach my secondary goal of speed.  The secondary goal that for too long I had as the primary.  Incidentally, the last I ran, my average was just over 13 minutes, so it even helped me surpass my goal of speed.  

In the analogy of the race in the Bible, Paul speaks of running the race to win the prize.  I took this as being like Jesus.  We all hear, I want to be like Jesus, would Jesus do that? Would you say that if Jesus were here? You get the point.  Paul also speaks of a desire to know Him and the power of His resurrection and the glory of His suffering. 

 

If I am striving to know the Savior on a more personal level every day, I cannot help but be conformed to His image.  When I know Him, I will be guided more fully by His Holy Spirit keeping me from things, guiding me to where I should be.  Helping me guard my tongue, heart, and mind.  To know Him, is to be like Him.  So like running where my goal was to go faster, it didn't happen until I aimed at going farther. Likewise, my desire to be like Jesus, will only come when I really know who He is.  

I am a fifties music junkie and my sister Michelle for the life of her cannot understand my taste in music.  The feeling is mutual, K.C. and the Repetitive Band is no match for The Platters, but in any case, there is a song from the fifties that is really schmaltzy and it says.  To know know know him is to love  love love him and I do ... and I do… and I do…..Insert overly swooning intonation and background singers galore and you get the picture.  A cute little song, not one of my favorites and I could live quite happily never hearing the song again.  But I think in the sense of getting to know Jesus it is true.  There is a difference in knowing what Jesus did and knowing who He is.  I can be thankful for what he did without knowing Him.  I could go my whole life being redeemed because I believe what He did for me.  But I'd be missing out on so much if I didn't try to know Him.  The more I know Him, the more I love Him.  it would be impossible not to, and that is the beauty.  When our goals are righted, our outcome is sure.  

Now since I began to write this post a few weeks ago, there has been a hindrance not laid aside.  I sprained my toe and have been advised by the doctor to sit this race out.  To say I am disappointed is a gross understatement.  The fact that the injury happened while killing a bug and stepping off my bed simultaneously, is just unbelievable! However, it lends itself quite readily into the analogy.  The Christian life is full of bumps, missteps, stupid things we never would have dreamed would cause harm.  Yet, like for the body, there is healing.  I'm just glad I don't have to wait three weeks for forgiveness or to get back in the race.  

I will train again at the end of these three weeks and I can't wait for whatever else God wants to teach me through it.  So great how He meets us where we are!

 

Smell The Honeysuckle!

Between the ages of 2 and 6 I lived in Maryland. I had the best time. Riding bikes outside, forgetting how to use the breaks, flipping over guardrails, calling my mom from some lady’s house that didn’t speak English, you know the average childhood antics. Good times, good times.

Another good time was going to the library. For a family with five kids, a free library card from Howard County was just the ticket for most summer afternoons when we were bouncing off the walls. We would go, spend some time out of the house and pick out some books. When we would walk out to the car, my mom would most often say, “Smell the honeysuckle.” She wouldn’t just say it though; she would exclaim it refreshingly as though she had just received a present she had always wanted. When we were little and had no idea what things lived in bushes or peed on them, we would suck out the nectar. I do not do that anymore, but I do still on occasion, smell the honeysuckle.

There has been a recent rash of such occasions. On 222 going toward Kutztown there are bushes along the highway. There is honeysuckle there. And when I am driving down the hill and singing at the top of my lungs, I get hit with the unmistakable fragrance and have no choice, but to smell the honeysuckle. I think it is funny how so many years later I still feel like a little kid when I smell it. Sweet and flowery with a hint of savory, what’s not to love? Just kidding about the savory part, but some people will get a kick out of that, Janelle and Jen I’m sure, will remember the reference.

In any case, as long as I live I hope to equate that smell with a fun summer afternoon at the library and the admonition of my mother to be thankful and always surprised at the sweet unexpected blessing of honeysuckle.

Channel Surfing Gone Awry

The other day I was flipping through the channels to see if anything was worth watching. As I flipped through I saw a promo or a clip of yet another reality relationship game show. It was for Paris Hilton’s BFF. There are so many things about this that makes me sad. Firstly, there is no solace known to man at this time that is completely void of Paris Hilton. Why? I have no idea. She is this decade’s version of Kato Kaelin and Jenny Jones. They are everywhere, say nothing of importance, and they have celebrity status. That word means nothing anymore.

Perhaps even more disturbing than she are those who are competing to be her BFF. You are on a game show to be friends with a girl who publicly trashed her true life, long time, best friend, and you want to be the replacement? There are other ways to get into show business.

I am not sure if the producers were aware, but the last F is supposed to be forever. The notion of having a sequel to a”forever” is fundamentally unacceptable. Where is the first winner of the forever friend position? No one knows and this year, no one cares.

Needless to say I did not watch. I think I probably watched travel shows or even PCN tours learning how they make reproduction furniture in Lititz. That is interesting, not socialite speech peppered with blackberry abbreviations.

IDK, maybe I am more upset with the fact that a show like that is on the air and they took away Pushing Daisies or that I’m hardly ever home to watch 30 Rock.! Truthfully I’ve never forgiven the networks for pulling American Dreams back in 2005 and as sure as all get out, I will never forgive them for ending Family Ties! Alex could be president by now dealing with his opposing parents as lobbyist for clean air initiatives, while Jennifer becomes the first platinum blonde Supreme Court justice, Mallory designs fashion wear for the space program, and Andy lives in a van in the dessert of Utah studying newts.

But alas, all good things must come to an end. I only wish these inane game shows would disappear. Oh, and I also wish for world peace.

Vacation Observation

Last week I was on my summer vacation. I was with the family and we did a lot of fun things. I was able to explore the community where we stayed and it was just beautiful. There were houses surrounding the lake, playgrounds, camp sites, beaches, pools, and wild deer so tame you could get within two feet of them. It seems impossible it is all over. I’ve spent so much time looking forward to it and it goes by so quickly.

In some ways I am glad to be back and getting into “normal” life again. For one thing, the temptation of copious amount of sweets will be no more. And I have plans to visit soon with a few friends I haven’t seen in quite some time.

I wanted to share something I observed while at the pool one day. Thursday we decided to go to the pool. Earlier in the week we had gone to the lake and even though it is beautiful and the beach was nice, I do not like swimming in the lake. Give me chlorine so strong it could kill a legion of aquatic wild life and I am a happy girl.

The fact that we had agreed on the pool made me happy to be able to swim. I will never be an Olympic swimmer, I don’t really know how to swim, but I move my arms and my legs and I stay afloat and get to where I want to go, to me, that is all I need. And no, it is not a dog paddle.

This is probably the first time since I was ten I did not imagine a shark coming to get me as I swam. Yes I realize sharks do not live in pools. However, after seeing a James Bond movie when I was young where an evil maniac releases a shark into a pool where 007 was swimming, I have envisioned this scene while swimming in pools. Fear is not always rational, so back up off me.

It was a good time with sisters and nieces as the boys were out fishing. Mom and Nana were even there on the lawn chairs in the shade, just enjoying the day.

I got out of the pool to get ready to leave and sat on my towel to people watch. I was next to my mother in her chair and we both saw the same thing. A man who looked to be in his seventies came walking up to the deep end. He was walking slowly, using a cane as he went. I watched him because I was a bit concerned for his safety. He was dressed for swimming, but still, it can be slippery near a pool and I just was hoping he would not fall around the edge of the pool. After what seemed to be forever, he got near enough and with one fluid and uncharacteristic swift motion he pushed his cane to the side and pushed off the ground to launch into the pool for a swim.

I turned to Mom and asked if she had seen what I saw. She said yes. I said that is the coolest thing I’ve ever seen. That would be a way better commercial for Nestea than anything I’ve ever seen them come up with for an idea.

There are so many areas of life where I could apply this word picture. I should not be afraid of change, I should not hold on to things I think will help me but only make the transition awkward. I should never act as though I’m old although the time will come I am sure when I will not be able to move as I once could. That is just the beginning of all the things. I’m sure you have some of your own. I’m just sad for you that you were not there to see it.

Next time you are in an opportunity to people watch. Look for the little kids and the elderly. In my experience, they have taught me much more than the middle aged crowd. Perhaps I am too close to the middle age bracket I cannot fully appreciate it at this time. But who knows, some day I may be creeping toward the edge of a pool wondering why young people have become so voyeuristic.

And I Quote "______"

Disclaimer: Some of this is repeat, but I'm going through saved drafts and thought I would share the original.



If you spend any time with me or any of my siblings you will come to find out that we have a sickness. We remember and frequently quote lines from movies, shows, songs, conversations, etc., etc.



We are storehouses of useless information and during a game of 90's Trivial Persuit, the dvd edition, my dad said he didn't know if he should be proud or disappointed. I have asked myself the same question many times. If only Jeopardy questions were about Friends, Full House, and Bon Jovi lyrics, I'd be worth millions right now.



My entire family can converse for nearly a half an hour and not actually speak to each other. One person will say, "Are you sure nobodys follow us?" and it is all over. We go from one scene to the next and retell The Princess Bride interchanging characters at whim. We really have quite a dizzying intellect. And if someone would say the phrase mostly anything, then it's on. Poor people who don't know and love the movie the way we do must hate us. And the sad things is we don't really care, it is a compulsion to finish the interplay. There is no prescription or 12 step program strong enough. Of course if it had a chocolate coating to make it go down easier, I'd be willing to give it a try.



Even more confusing to people is when we quote each other. There have been many times something has been said that is just so funny to us and we never let it die. A few years ago my mom was talking to my dad and said "son" at the end. As if she were a teenage skater boy. We laughed so hard, we couldn't even believe she had heard that to use it in context with the correct intonation and everything. So funny, so we remind her and she hates it, but we love that it happened.



Of course there are the things from childhood that you cannot get rid of and one such phrase is "Smell the honeysuckle". My mom would take us to the library when we were young. She would pile us in, tell us to behave, and we'd be off to the Howard County library for books. The parking lot had so many honeysucle bushes that in the spring and summer every time we would get out of the car she would say smell the honeysuckle in a high elated tone. Then when we'd come out to go to the car the same thing. Or if we'd be driving anywhere, and pass honesuckle, she would say, "smell the honesuckle" in the same tone. The excitement and contentment never wavered, always thankful for the smell, a sweet burst of heavenly sent wonderfullness. On occasion one of us will just say it out of nowhere. We all giggle because it is so funny to us, not really sure why, but it is. Sometimes I think my mom thinks we are making fun of her. And it isn't really. We tease her, but I know each one of my siblings loves that memory. We love the sing song way it sticks in our heads and we will never forget it. The last few weeks there has been honeysuckle in bloom along the highway I take home. I say to myself in the car, smell the honeysuckle in the same way my mom did. And if God ever grants me the blessing of having children of my own I hope to pass that on to them. A simple phrase that packs a wallop of imagery and memories.

Dream or Swinemare?

Last night I had a dream.  No this is not the lines from the oldies song.  I had a dream.  It was really weird and I have to tell you all about it.  You all being about seven people, but at least this is a slightly more modernized version of a mass email.  So here it is.  As written to my sister in an email earlier today:

I had a dream that I was at a pig roast, then when I had my food on my

plate it was a whole fetal pig, like we dissected in biology with Mrs.

Leffel.

I squeezed its nose to try to find out if it would come off and see what

to eat first and it started breathing and then it jumped off my plate

     and ran around and I started chasing it around the yard.

So there it is.  Not sure what else to say after that.  I'm just as "huh" as you are. 

Your Mom

One day a few months ago I was talking to a woman at work. She asked a question or something, but somehow the conversation lent itself perfectly to an interjection of "Your mom". Only immediately after I said it I realized it was not a well thought reply for many reasons. One there is a generational gap, I'm not even sure she is aware of that phrase in any way. Two, she is over sixty five and the odds that her mother is still alive is not so great. So then I thought, what if she is really sad about her mother not being alive, or what if she didn't even like her mom and feels badly that she isn't sad her mom is not alive. And then I realized that the opportunity to interject "Your mom" into any of my conversations has long since passed. I instantly became the female version of Michael Scott and "That's what she said.", which needless to say made me die a little inside. So I admonish anyone who is reading this to remember that with age comes the responsibility to modify our colloquial speech. Much the same way our clothing styles should accurately portray or age. This is also to nicely inform anyone who is forty one wearing pigtails. Sorry, it just isn't working for you.

Flashback

Last Thursday I had the opportunity to go to a ladies small group held at my friend Jill’s house. I was pretty excited because I'd heard a lot about it. One really nice thing about my job is that the 16th of April is like a holiday for us and we have the day off. So, with my holiday I decided to put a face to some names.

We were studying Paul’s analogy of running a race, of counting all things as loss, and of being partakers in Christ’s suffering. As you can imagine with many different personalities, life experiences, and levels of understanding of what it is to know Christ, we had a lot of discussion. I was able to watch as one woman, who is not completely convinced of Christ’s completeness for salvation, began to have the layers of doubt removed. I saw the look on Jill’s face as some questions were asked and answers given, that this was a step forward. It is so great to see God working in someone else’s life.

A woman who has been a Christian for a few years asked how she could show her kids who Christ is in a way they can understand and want to know Him. Some offered examples from how they raised their children. But prayer really accounted for most of the advice, understandably so.

I thought of my own upbringing. We didn't have any special time of day to sit and read the Bible, or even family devotions that I remember. We did have two parents who taught us right from wrong and a responsibility to the Creator. Everyday situations became lessons in life and what God expects from us. With five children there were plenty of opportunities to learn forgiveness, sharing, thoughtfulness, the importance of being truthful, and on and on, you get the picture. More than this, I saw my parents live their faith.

I remember my mother hosting a Bible study at our house when I was little. All the little ones would be asked to play in the other room and we were only to interrupt for emergencies. When things would start to come to a close, I would walk into the room and would see the pastry of the day partially eaten, lipstick marks on the coffee cups, and a strange aroma comprised of dessert, coffee, perfume, and gum. I could never understand why my mom would invite those people to our house to read the Bible. It all seemed so completely boring to me at the time.

Fast forward twenty some years ahead and now I was one of these women invading someone else’s house, drinking their coffee, eating their pastry, and annoying their children. I am excited for Jill and for all the women there that they have begun to be the example they so badly want to be. It is nice to know that the woman who wanted to know how to show her children the way to Christ had already begun to do so.

I’m thankful for my own upbringing and how truly blessed I am for it. I don’t mean to put a Norman Rockwell point of view on my family. I had some friends say that I make it sound like my family never fights or has disagreements. I laughed because I had no idea I do that. And no, my family is not perfect by any stretch of the imagination. We are fallen sinners and we get on each other’s last nerve. But, we are forgiven fallen sinners that get on each other’s last nerve, and that makes all the difference.

A Walk To Remember

As long as I can remember I have loved listening to stories from older people.  I don't know if it is part of imagining how the world was before I was a part of it, or picturing them as young people, but I love it.  Tonight I had the opportunity to listen to my Nana tell stories.  My sister Jen and I were visiting and she loves to talk as all of us girls in our family do.  She spoke of growing up in Emmaus, how her family would get four quarts of ice cream for a dollar at the corner store, and raising chickens in the back yard.  She remembered helping her family work at the garage they owned and spoke of eating potatoes of some fashion for dinner most nights during the depression.  She recounted stories of her and my grandfather during their courtship and how she was sent for to come home after she missed her ten o'clock curfew when she was engaged and at a family party at my grandfather's house.  She became teary eyed when she spoke of how she was reared with a firm hand by her father contrasted with the nurture and meekness of her mother.  She told us of how my grandfather would walk from the 8th Street bridge in Allentown to Chestnut Street in Emmaus to visit her when they were dating.  And that is where my thoughts dwell tonight.  I looked on google maps and entered in his starting location and finish point and asked for the distance by walking.  It is 4.8 miles and they estimate it would take and hour and 38 minutes.  I like to take walks myself.  I pray sometimes when I walk and run the gamut from family to friends, to issues in my life, to hopes for the future that I ask God's leading and guidance, and patience.  I can imagine my grandfather walking the nearly five miles getting more and more excited to see my Nana with each step.  I wonder if he jogged a bit, or just walked briskly, or took a stroll and prayed.  Knowing him, I can bet that at least part of the walk was filled with songs he would sing, as I find myself doing.  I wonder if the three children he would have with the woman he went to meet had ever crossed his mind.  Or if he could have possibly imagined the wonderfulness of his ninth grandchild :) To think of my grandfather, a young man of twenty or so walking to meet his sweetie is just such a wonderful image for me.  I dare say most men today would say that the girl is not worth it if they had to walk nearly five miles one way to see them.   I love that now, all these years later my Nana has that memory of her boyfriend coming to see her.  And I love how God knew the end from the beginning and all that would transpire in between.  And I love what an encouragement it is for me on my journey to know that whatever part of the spectrum I am on it is all as it should be.  Because even though he walked alone, the only thing more constant than the woman he walked to meet was the One with whom he walked.  

Canned Meat and The Sign of The Times

Today was a bit of a weird day. The morning was pretty normal, but after church I met most of my family at the Kutztown Tavern for lunch. It was a late lunch and we didn't leave until almost three. So, I came home and was watching something to relax and relaxed to the point of falling asleep.

So three hours later I wake up to the sound of rain and thunder and a severe thunderstorm warning on the television. I looked out the window and saw hail. I think hail is one of the coolest things, no pun intended. In any case, I see that the thunderstorm warning is upgraded to a tornado watch. So, I'm watching, I'm watching and then I hear what sounds like a distant train.

I live very close to a train and this is not an uncommon occurrence, however from watching storm chasers, I know that tornados sound like trains. So, I look out the window for the train, I don't see it. And then I started to act like my first dog George when it would storm. I thought, I'm on the second floor, the roof blows off this thing and I'm gone. So, I come to my room and start to get under my bed, then I remember that people hide in the bathroom, so I go to the bathroom and sit in the dark on the tub. I don't know, whenever they interview survivors they always say they were in the tub.

Finally after the noise passed and the rain died down I came out and realized that I probably was in no danger whatsoever, but it was a nice little drill in disaster preparedness. In my defense I was awakened by this freakish noise and greenish sky, and if you are one of my college roommates or a family member you know that my cognitive skills upon waking are near zero if not in the negative.

In any case, I was glad it stopped because I had to go to the store. I was getting ready to go to the grocery store and get gas in my car for the week, when I heard the familiar tick of the sixty minutes stop watch. I had to stay and watch how the computer virus is going to render millions of computers helpless and steal sensitive banking information from millions, all done from adolescent Russians who hate the thriving economy of the West. Or so they surmise.

Being utterly uplifted by the impending doom, I drove to Dunkin Donuts for coffee because my head was pounding and then to the gas station where the previous events of the evening left me somewhat paranoid. Upon completion there, I drove to Giant.

I didn't make a list which was a big mistake because it took way longer than it should have and many shoppers got to see my show consisting of me walking up and down each aisle uttering incoherent words to myself trying to remember what I need.

As I was walking up one of the aisles I saw a section of jarred and canned meat products. I cannot imagine anyone voluntarily ingesting spicy sausage found in a jar of who knows what. Right beside it was a lovely selection of canned hams. I understand storage is key, but looking at them and thinking about what is in them made me feel a bit queasy. So I continued shopping, finished and left.

On my way home I had flashbacks of the jar of meat. It reminded me of lab experiments that float in formaldehyde. And to see it next to canned ham as a suggestion like you find on the internet, people who buy jarred meat, also consider ... had me wondering who buys this stuff. Really the only canned meat I find worth entertaining any of my thoughts are Dave Letterman's Big Ass Hams.

Then I realized that I'm probably being a spoiled person yet again. For much of the world's history people had to preserve their food any way they could. Refrigeration and fresh foods are a modern day luxury if we think about it. And if like some people say, there will be another disaster or a food shortage in general, someday I may think that canned and jarred meat looks pretty good.

While that day is not today, and I can say with pretty convincing certainty, that day will be no time this week, it could be soon. And who knows, if the storm did turn out to be a tornado and I needed something to eat, I would be pretty thankful to find a dented can of minced pig with the key still attached.

Absolute Power and The Coupon Nazi

I am borrowing my dad's car and am unfamiliar with warning lights and sounds. So, when the low fuel warning went off this morning I decided to get petrol on my lunch break. There is a gas station not too far from work, plus they have a Dunkin Donuts. Yay, coffee it is. I had coupons, so I handed the man (monosylabic boy) behind the counter my coupon for a 99 cent medium hot coffee. This is basically all I get at this establishment aside from the occasional breakfast sandwich. I just love their coffee, they put an addictive chemical in it. The guy started to get my coffee and his co-worker swoops in and says is this a new one. I don't know I say, so she reads it and says it expired and hands me back the coupon and has a very unnerving smug look on her face as if to non verbally say, what now B----? To which I replied, okay, well, I still want it.

I thought oh my dear heavens! What if this actually mattered. She found way too much self worth in having the authority to deny me the use of a coffee coupon. This is exactly why our government has a system of checks and balances. Absolute power corrupts absolutly, even if it is only over coffee.

Here Comes The Sun

I have had a really good two weeks. I celebrated my birthday last week. More than it being my birthday, I think I was just excited to get together with friends and go to brunch with a friend. The daylight savings, though a pain in the rear the first few days, has given way to light after working hours! Friday I got home and it was still nice and bright so I went to the track. It was colder than I thought, I was glad I had two sweatshirts. Not too long into my outing I was zippered up, hoody on, tied like a little kid, and sporting my sunglasses. I think some of the parents with the little league soccer team were probably getting cell phones out and ready to call for help on speed dial. But, I didn't care that I looked some what mentally derranged when I've been waiting for the light for so long. Oh, how much fun it was. Cold, but fun.

And.........tax season is almost over! So, that means I can start taking vacation days! I'm going to visit Rach and Joshua in Chicago, I love that city! I love them more, so how awesome is that, a two for one deal.

And Easter is just around the corner. Easter is my favorite Holiday!

I Hate Loving People

The past few months I've been convicted about how I interact with people. Not the people who are pleasant and fun, the people that when you hear their voice or see them you instantly want to run.

Yes, this is not a good thing, say when you are an administrative assistant and have to deal with them. So, I began to pray for God to give me His love to show to others. I think I will never pray that prayer again.

The very next day the most annoying client we have called into the office. He is the personification of the sesame street fly in my soup guy. I guess that makes me Grover. In any case, I picked up the phone and heard his voice and could sense my attitude change. I tried to be pleasant but he has a way of just being annoying, not acting annoying he IS annoying. So, I ended that conversation as quickly as possible and hung up the phone. Later on he came in and he stands at the front counter and looks over to see what you are working on. Hey buddy, not for you, go sit down already!

Some time later I was dealing with someone who needed to send me information for 1099's via email. I opened the attachment and there was only one page where there should have been three. Three attachments three pages each. I got it conceptually, just not electronically as there was only one page each. A few emails back and forth getting more and more frustrated, I called the person. She proceeded to tell me how to open the attachment. I cut her off and said yes, I know how to open an attachment I just don't have the other pages, they are not there. Then we did a virtual phone conversations of one of these things is not like the other and finally got her to fax it to me. I was so angry at her condescending attitude.

As I started to de-stress from the conversation, I remembered my prayer to show love. I should not pray a prayer if I'm not ready for God to answer it. Situations that are stressful and frustrating require more love than the happy go lucky times. How did I think He was going to teach me to show love, with the people I already love or those I that I do not like?

It is so funny how quickly God "remembers" our prayers for things like showing love or sharing his gospel. A few years ago when I worked with a girl with whom I wanted to share the gospel. I asked for an opportunity and the next day she asked me what I believed. How awesome when He answers those prayers so promptly! Of course my flesh says okay then why not answer the prayer for more money or for a husband as quickly, but God has His reasons, I digress.

I have continued to pray for me to show love, not every day, but often. I think I pray it when I don't show love to people. So, very often. It is something I wanted to cross off my list, to accomplish and then move on. How ridiculous a notion to move on from love. I'm glad God doesn't. So, I will continue to be tested, to fail, hopefully pass a few tests, but for the rest of my God given days on this earth.

Now if only I can remember that this prayer applies to road rage I'll be onto something.

Chillax

The past month has been nutsy koo koo.  Yes, I know it goes without saying.  Almost an understatement really.  I think I felt even more stressed than usual for this time of year due to my wisdom teeth coming out on the 10th of December.  I thought I'd have them out and be at work two days later.  Ha, I laugh in the face of such ridiculous assumptions.  It wasn't until the next week I would return to work physically and then a week after that my brain decided to join me for which I am extremely grateful.  So, I was playing catch up with a lot of things at work.  It seemed the more I tried to work faster, the longer it took.  That is just work.  There is so much more that goes on this time of year.  Of course there are parties at work, gift exchanges, music practices, running around after work looking for gifts.  Oh, I forget so and so, I should get one more thing for what'sherhead so it looks even when they open the gifts, yada, yada, yada, who cares! Every year I tell myself to not get caught up in the over commercialization of the Christmas Holiday, and every year it sneaks into my mind and heart, and I can't stand it.  I spend so much time doing errands that I forget what the time is suppose to be.  Spending quality time with friends and family, thinking about the greatest gift we were given.  Last year my friend Christine and I drove around the greater Mertztown area to look at Christmas lights.  Her daughter was in the back, and probably slept most of the time.  Basically, we drive around and make fun of the tacky decorations.  Some people seriously need a twelve step program for plastic lawn santa addiction.  We do also comment on how beautiful some of the houses are decorated, but I have to say, I love to make fun of ugly decorations.  Yes, I know, you should pray for me, so get to it.  Well, this year, I almost canceled because I just didn't feel I had the time.  But, I had postponed the outing once due to my wisdom teeth and I didn't want to disappoint.  So, very kindly, Christine had me over for dinner with her husband Rob and daughter Gwen.  Earlier that day they had been to a funeral for a young man who had been in the youth group when they were leaders.  Though the conversation was not dominated by this topic, it was visited with sadness.  Our thoughts went to his family.  Our hearts grew heavy as we thought of Christmas to be a reminder in years to come of such sadness.  It hit me, as much as I needed to take a break and just have fun with a friend, she needed me to encourage her through this difficult time.  Not that she asked for me to say words of wisdom or that I even said anything, just to be there.  To spend time.  Time is an asset that we too often misuse.  I had been spending it on all the wrong things.  I'm glad I was able to get my priorities straight, if even just for a little while.  We got in the car and drove around Allentown and Bethlehem, and I have to say, we did make fun of some pretty heinously kitchy decorations.  But a lot of them were really beautiful.  We drove around talking, trying to hear each other over the very impressive pulmonary power of a toddler.  At one point I turned and asked Gwen if she was aware I was trying to tell a story.  I'm glad Christine realizes I am joking and she doesn't take offense to my otherwise insensitive comments.  I had a blast just taking the time to drive around, see Christmas lights, listen to music, and talk with a friend.  That is the gift I want to give more often.  That is when I feel like Christmas is Christmas like when you are a little kid.  So thank you Christine for being my co-star in our own little portrayal of It's A Wonderful Life.  Because really when we stop to think about things that matter, people are at the top of the list.  And in a year when I cannot remember what I got for anyone, I'll remember time spent with friends and family.  Of course once I left Allentown I spent the next hour and half shopping and then wrapped gifts until 1:00 am, but hey, I'm a work in progress.