Prayer

Yesterday was the beginning of a time of prayer for our church. Tonight, Tuesday night, and Wednesday night we'll be meeting together to listen to sermons on prayer, and spend time in prayer. We do this every January - it's a tradition Pastor learned when he was a missionary in Eastern Europe.

The messages yesterday really spoke to my heart. I cannot sum up everything the Lord is teaching me, but much of it is expressed in these quotes that I found online today (The ones I highlighted are the ones that especially pertain to the things I am hearing and the thoughts I am having.):

Prayer does not fit us for the greater work, prayer is the greater work. --Oswald Chambers

Prayer is not so much an act as it is an attitude—an attitude of dependency, dependency upon God. --Arthur W. Pink

There is not in the world a kind of life more sweet and delightful than that of a continual conversation with God. --Brother Lawrence

In prayer it is better to have a heart without words than words without a heart. -- John Bunyan

The true spirit of prayer is no other than God's own Spirit dwelling in the hearts of the saints. And as this spirit comes from God, so doth it naturally tend to God in holy breathings and pantings. It naturally leads to God, to converse with him by prayer. --Jonathan Edwards

There is nothing that makes us love a man so much as praying for him. --William Law

Rich is the person who has a praying friend. --Janice Hughes

Our ordinary views of prayer are not found in the New Testament. We look upon prayer as a means for getting something for ourselves; the Bible idea of prayer is that we may get to know God Himself. --Oswald Chambers

If you are sick, fast and pray; if the language is hard to learn, fast and pray; if the people will not hear you, fast and pray, if you have nothing to eat, fast and pray. - Frederick Franson

Men may spurn our appeals, reject our message, oppose our arguments, despise our persons; but they are helpless against our prayers. --J. Sidlow Baxter

Why is it so important that you are with God and God alone on the mountain top? It's important because it's the place in which you can listen to the voice of the One who calls you the beloved. To pray is to listen to the One who calls you "my beloved daughter," "my beloved son," "my beloved child." To pray is to let that voice speak to the center of your being, to your guts, and let that voice resound in your whole being. --Henri Nouwen

So when we sing, 'Draw me nearer, nearer, blessed Lord,' we are not thinking of the nearness of place, but of the nearness of relationship. It is for increasing degrees of awareness that we pray, for a more perfect consciousness of the divine Presence. We need never shout across the spaces to an absent God. He is nearer than our own soul, closer than our most secret thoughts. --A.W. Tozer

The Church has not yet touched the fringe of the possibilities of intercessory prayer. Her largest victories will be witnessed when individual Christians everywhere come to recognize their priesthood unto God and day by day give themselves unto prayer. --John R. Mott

I must secure more time for private devotions. I have been living far too public for me. The shortening of devotions starves the soul, it grows lean and faint. I have been keeping too late hours. --William Wilberforce

How different the world would look, how different the state of our nation would be, if there were more sanctified priestly souls! These are souls who have the power to bless, for they intercede with sanctified hearts. They never begin their daily time of intercessory prayer without having first brought to the cross all that is unholy in their lives, so that their old self can be crucified there with Jesus, the sacrificial Lamb. –Basilea Schlink

The Church is looking for better methods; God is looking for better men. The Holy Ghost does not flow through methods, but through men. He does not come on machinery, but on men. He does not anoint plans, but men…Men of prayer." --E. M. Bounds

Pray, and let God worry. -- Martin Luther

Do not pray for easy lives. Pray to be stronger men. Do not pray for tasks equal to your powers, pray for powers equal to your task. --Phillips Brooks

This is our Lord's will... that our prayer and our trust be, alike, large.-- Julian of Norwich

If you can't pray a door open, don't pry it open.-- Lyell Rader

God's answers are wiser than our prayers. –Unknown

There are more tears shed over answered prayers than over unanswered prayers. --Teresa of Avila

God does not delay to hear our prayers because He has no mind to give; but that, by enlarging our desires, He may give us the more largely. --Anselm of Canterbury

We waste most of our time trying to get God to do something He has already done—or praying for God to do something He told us to do. --Jacquelyn K. Heasley

If God will do whatever He wishes, regardless of whether we pray or not, then we do not need to pray at all, and the Lord's instructions on praying for the Kingdom and the Will are superfluous. But the truth is that God waits for a Remnant to rise up and to pray in agreement with His Purpose before He does anything - He will do nothing apart from the Church. Apart from HIM, we CAN do nothing; apart from US, He WILL do nothing –Chip Brogden

Those who do not believe do not pray. This is a good functional definition of faith. Faith prays, unbelief does not. --John A. Hardon

We must alter our lives in order to alter our hearts, for it is impossible to live one way and pray another. --William Law

The Third Petition of the Lord's Prayer is repeated daily by millions who have not the slightest intention of letting anyone's will be done but their own.--Aldous Huxley

Is the Son of God praying in me, or am I dictating to Him?....Prayer is not simply getting things from God, that is a most initial form of prayer; prayer is getting into perfect communion with God. If the Son of God is formed in us by regeneration, He will press forward in front of our common sense and change our attitude to the things about which we pray. --Oswald Chambers

Those who know God the best are the richest and most powerful in prayer. Little acquaintance with God, and strangeness and coldness to Him, make prayer a rare and feeble thing. --E. M. Bounds

How often have we prayed something like, "O Lord, be with cousin Billy now in a special way"? Have we stopped to consider what it is we're requesting? Imagine that you are a parent who is preparing to leave your children with a babysitter. Would you dream of saying, "O Betsy, I ask you now that you would be with my children in a special way?" No way. You would say, "Betsy, the kids need to be in bed by 9 pm. They can have one snack before their baths, and please make sure they finish their homework. You can reach us at this number if there's any problem. Any questions before we go?" We are very specific with our requests and instructions for our babysitters. We want them to know specifics. It should be no different with prayer. --David Jeremiah

There is a general kind of praying which fails for lack of precision. It is as if a regiment of soldiers should all fire off their guns anywhere. Possibly somebody would be killed, but the majority of the enemy would be missed. --Charles Haddon Spurgeon

When a Christian shuns fellowship with other Christians, the devil smiles. When he stops studying the Bible, the devil laughs. When he stops praying, the devil shouts for joy. --Corrie Ten Boom

When I pray, coincidences happen, and when I don't pray, they don't. --William Temple

Faith in a prayer-hearing God will make a prayer-loving Christian. --Andrew Murray

Always respond to every impulse to pray. The impulse to pray may come when you are reading or when you are battling with a text. I would make an absolute law of this – always obey such an impulse. --Martyn Lloyd-Jones

Wishing will never be a substitute for prayer. --Ed Cole

One can believe intellectually in the efficacy of prayer and never do any praying. --Catherine Marshall

Is prayer your steering wheel or your spare tire?-- Corrie Ten Boom

Pray often, for prayer is a shield to the soul, a sacrifice to God, and a scourge for Satan --John Bunyan

Of all the duties enjoined by Christianity none is more essential and yet more neglected than prayer. --François Fénelon

I have so much to do that I spend several hours in prayer before I am able to do it.—John Wesley

Some people pray just to pray and some people pray to know God. --Andrew Murray

There is a mighty lot of difference between saying prayers and praying. --John G. Lake

Shhh - don't tell! ...I'm a wimp.

Do any of you remember my minuscule reference to "a clean bedroom" yesterday?

Did you also catch the "beating a rug" part?

The small rug in our bedroom is beautiful - better than it's ever looked after vacuuming. Pure creamy beige. But I didn't vacuum it.

Do you wanna know how it got that way? Do ya?

I took it outside, hung it over the clothesline, and beat it.

With a piece of landscaping timber.

Dimensions of beam: About 3"x 4"x 4'

Weight: I don't want to know.

I swung that piece of wood with all my might against that rug, again and again. Like a star baseball player, I hit a home-run every time. Dust flew everywhere; I'm glad I was upwind. It took me somewhere around 15-20 minutes before I was satisfied with the amount of dust in that rug. It still wasn't all gone, but we had company coming in 15 minutes, and I had other things to do. But still, a ferocious beating for 15-20 minutes with a 3"x 2" piece of timber will do away with a LOT of dust.

Today, every time I move my right arm any farther than 6" away from my body in any direction, my muscles scream in protest. I was baking molasses cookies this evening, and when I tried to cream the butter and sugar together, I honestly couldn't do it. I dropped the bowl and spoon, and just stared at them. It was too painful to beat with that spoon! I've never had butter than felt so ....heavy.

I admit it: I'm a bit of a wimp. Who would have thought that I could get this sore in just 15 minutes? Yikes; I need to do more cleaning or something!

Oh - on a side note....

....You know your house - or at least your kitchen - is cold when you soften butter in the microwave, to use in baking, and it begins to harden as it sits in the mixing bowl on the counter.

Everyday Beauties

Sunshine - gorgeous sunshine!

50 degree weather....anyone for a walk?

Sunshine.

Beating rugs on the line until you're breathless, dusty, and laughing.

Sunshine.

Searching for gardening gloves that never stay where you put them. (But Amber, they make such good riding gloves for aspiring cowboys and cowgirls!)

Sunshine.

A clean bedroom - with sun coming through the windows.

No wonder Christ said "I am the light of the world." Everything's better with sunshine on it.

Confession is good for the soul....?

Does your family ever discuss where certain sayings come from? Mine does.

Tonight my father and brothers were talking about the expression "all nine yards." By listening in to their conversation, I learned that the expression comes from football.

Amazing.

I was dumbfounded by my own naivety.

Not one to keep back astounding information, I decided to open my mouth and let everyone else in on the news.

"You mean it's talking about football yards?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"Amazing. I always thought it meant fabric."

I don't know which came faster; rolling eyes or peals of laughter, but both were plentiful in our living room for the next minute. Of course I had chosen a time to speak up when the entire family was gathered together.

Mom and Heather looked at one another, and I could see their unspoken messaged exchanged by looks: "Yup, she's a seamstress alright."

Random Ramblings

Today I'm feeling....odd.

As if something big should be happening, or is happening, or will be happening, but I don't know about it.

I think it's mostly just shock.

Shock that since starting a new schedule for the New Year, nothing major has happened to disrupt it.

Of course, the minor mes-ups abound; sleeping in, staying up late, spending too much time on the computer or reading or sewing, unexpected errands....yep, they abound. But all in all, I'm pretty much staying on track.

That feels odd.

Normal.

Like, what is expected.

I'm used to un-normal...the unexpected.

But really, I find it odd to be thinking about everyday things. Things like what I want to bake or sew or read. Shouldn't there be something bigger to occupy my mind?

It hit me yesterday; yes, there should be something bigger to occupy my mind.

Christ.

I've found that recently I have become too consumed with everyday things, and forgotten the important ones. I hadn't realized it because I wasn't guarding against it. Big things, now I expect those to try to conquer my mind....but little things? Naw, that won't happen. ...Right?

I'm supposed to be taking every thought captive to obedience to Christ. That means no day-dreaming about a new recipe when I'm trying to have my devotions, and no planning a new dress when I'm trying to pray. And no practicing a new language in my mind during a time that I usually spend singing to the Lord.

It's strange how life cycles. There are times when, spiritually, we are flying high. Other times we are in the valley. Still other times we seem to be riding a flat plane, not knowing whether we'll go up or down next.

Our emotions cycle, too. For awhile we'll be on a mountaintop, happy with everything, singing through all things. Then we plunge into the well of sadness or depression, and feel as if we're sinking in the mud, or swimming with our wrists tied. And of course, there's also the "level plain" feeling here too.

We're three-dimensional things, so of course our bodies aren't left behind. They get to cycle too. Sometimes we feel great, other times we feel puny. Sometimes we seem to be slim and fit effortlessly, and other times we look at a bowl of ice cream and feel fat. Some days our hair does exactly what we want it to do, and other times it has a mind of its own.

Have you ever sat down and figured out what your circles would look like if you mapped them on a graph? I have. I've wondered what my emotions would look like if I graphed them. Probably something like this:

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Yes Ma'am, I'm pretty reliable. You can rely on me to go up-down, up-down, up-down at about the same rate all year....with one big dip - and soar - just for fun. However, you must look at this in scale. Let's say the above graph is a really zoom shot - a close up of a larger graph.

You see, that's how I feel most of the time; up-down,up-down, up-down about five times in one month. I'm constantly rolling. Not just emotionally, but physically and spiritually too.

I have tendencies to go to extremes, but I'm thankful that they're all of fairly short duration! When I'm in the dumps, I know there is a light above the pit, and it'll show up fairly soon. When I'm feeling tired or otherwise un-energetic, I know that I'll feel fine in a few days. When I feel numb during my devotions, or just can't seem to pray, I know that God will not leave me to flounder all over the place. He won't leave His child in that state. He'll come.

So I have hope.

What about you? Maybe you're one of those people who is nice and steady. You may only have 10 days in the year where you feel sad or depressed. Or maybe it's the other way around.

If you graphed your life, what would it look like? Would you be bouncing even more than me? Would you have nice smooth lines of gradual change? Would you have one long soaring line upward? Would you be going back and forth in a shallow up-and-down pattern between earth and sky, or would you touch both the heavens and the underground in one week?

I suppose this is a rather weird topic. Probably no one but you cares about what your life graph would look life, but if you can figure it out for yourself, it might be comforting.

For example, when you know you're about as far down as you can get, there's nowhere to go but up!

Or when you look back through journals and see that God dealt extra tenderly and kindly with you during times when you were at your lowest, you become overwhelmed with gratefulness, and you appreciate His all-knowing qualities even more.

I think that's what I like best; seeing the ways God will bless me during the dark times. I pray so differently during the extreme high or low times. When I'm already happy and He blesses, it's wonderful. But when I'm sad and He blesses it's overwhelming. That's when I know the graph lines are going to start going up.

This is a rather random post today, but like I said, I'm in shock, so maybe I'm not thinking clearly.

I'm not used to having three weeks without a major bounce. :)

Another Gift

Today I'm showing the gift a gave my other little sister for Christmas. This one, too, was made without a pattern, but somehow it turned out right the first time!

No, it's not a Bible carrier, though Lezley's Bible fits in it.

It's a purse!

Though you can't tell from the photos, this purse is made of scraps. The outside striped fabric is from an old skirt that I had already used to make something, and all that was left was bits and strips. I had to piece things together to get enough fabric that was wide enough for these pattern pieces. The inside fabric was easier, since I was cutting from a nice amount of yardage.

There is batting between the layers, and in the handles. The front strap attaches with a snap, and the bows are simply tacked on for decoration. There are three pockets in the middle section, which is only attached at sides of the purse, not the bottom.

Now, for my favorite attraction: ....

First, I must say that Lezley used to make a habit of asking to borrow my pocket mirror every time we got in the van to go to church. She'd use it to check her appearance and touch up her hair. (Hmmm...where did she learn that from?) I would have to dig it out of my purse, hand it to her, and remind her to give it back to me before we got out of the van.

But no longer.

Now she has her own mirror:

And she can't lose it. ..At least not so long as she doesn't lose her purse. That long strip of fabric is sewn into the bottom of the center pocket. I'm not sure if you can read the words I wrote on there with fabric marker, but it's Proverbs 30:31; "Favor is deceitful, and beauty is vain: but a woman that feareth the LORD, she shall be praised."

I love the response I got when Lezley unwrapped this. She squealed and threw her arms around me, and laughed so hard she could hardly say thank you.

I later found out why she was laughing; her gift to me was a purse, too!

Gifts!

I'm finally posting pictures of some of the gifts I gave out at Christmas. I admire folks who can think of something to sew for every member of the family, but I only sewed things for my sisters this year. (Have you ever noticed that boys are harder to sew for?)

My gift to Tiffany was a dress: (Edited to add: My apologizes to those of you who couldn't view these the first time around! Thanks to my Dad, I think the problem has been fixed. Please let me know if there's still a problem.)



Don't I have a purty sis?

The dress was a bit difficult to make, simply because it was made in secret, and I didn't use a pattern. Everything was guesswork!

The skirt was not hard; all I needed was a waist measurement, and I could draft a simple a-line skirt. (It is fuller than it looks in the pictures.)

The bodice was more difficult.

I traced a sweater that I knew fit Tiffany, to get an idea of her size. Thinking back, I wish I had used a blouse or something non-stretchy, instead of a knitted sweater, but at the time it was the first thing I saw, so I grabbed it. When you're snooping around in a sister's bedroom, you don't waste time!

I decided to design the bodice in six pieces; an upper and lower front, and two upper and two lower back pieces. All bodice pieces are lined with muslin. An invisible zipper closes the back. The sleeves are each made of two pieces, with interfacing stiffening the cuffs. A burgundy waistband, also reinforced with interfacing, finishes the bodice. All places where the burgundy and plaid meet are decorated with top stitching.

As it turned out, everything fit nicely (even the sleeves - yeah!) ...except for the neck area. I had made the shoulders too wide, and the neckline therefore was too wide, and a little too deep as well. Thankfully, it wasn't hard to fix after Tiffy tried the dress on Christmas day and I saw the problem. I just added plaid fabric above the burgundy fabric. (See photos)

The dress is made from 100% cotton plaid, and solid burgundy cotton fabric. I pre-washed both fabrics, and they wrinkle less than I thought they would. I chose the plaid because Tiffany has a special liking for plaid, checked, or otherwise "old-fashioned looking" cloth.

She seemed to be very pleased with her gift, and I am pleased with the way she looks in it. She's so much fun to sew for!

Makin' Butter and Such

Yesterday, I made two things from scratch that we would normally buy from the store, so I was feeling pretty independent.

Peanut butter, and buttery spread; two easy-to-make things at home. Also cheaper to make at home, too.

First, I made peanut butter. I had never done it before, but I had wanted to for a long time, so I was quite excited. In my opinion, peanut butter ranks right up there with chocolate, and though I love the taste, I feel just about as guilty eating peanut butter as I do when eating chocolate. All those hydrogenated oils! I'm always thinking to myself "if it weren't for the oils, I wouldn't feel bad about eating peanut butter!"

So, making peanut butter out of pure peanuts excited me. ...Well, I guess if you count the peanut oil and salt that was on the peanuts, it wasn't pure peanuts. But it made the butter taste better.

Also, with all the media full of news about peanut butter making folks sick, it sure makes me feel better to know that what we're eating didn't come from a factory, but instead our own kitchen!

A friend told us that all it takes to make peanut butter is a food processor, so I stuck the peanuts in the processor with the largest blade, and turned the machine on.

What a noise! I thought the peanuts would crack the plastic container they were flying around in, but they didn't. Gradually, they broke up into fine sawdust-like pieces.

But sawdust isn't butter. I put the lid back and turned the machine on again. After a few more minutes of processing, a sudden change took place. All of the sudden the natural oil the peanuts contained burst loose, and we had peanut butter! Yeah! It was a little lumpy, so I continued processing it, and it turned into lovely spread. ...Afterward, I wished I had left it a little thicker, 'cause I like chunky peanut butter, but others in the family like smooth, so oh well.

I put the peanut butter in a container, and because I wasn't sure if it could be stored in the cupboard like the store-bought stuff, I put it in the fridge.

On to the next project; buttery spread! I had made this several times before. It's so easy. It's NOT margarine, (did I mention I hate hydrogenated oils?), but it's cheaper than pure butter, and it much easier to spread. (Don't you hate having that slice of bread crumble in your hands as you try to spread solid butter on it?)

The ratio is simple: take whatever amount of butter you have, and divide it in half. Then use that measurement to tell you how much oil and water to use. For example, if you have 1 cup of butter, you would add 1/2 cup oil, (non hydrogenated!) and 1/2 cup water.

That's it. Whip the butter until soft, add the oil and water, and beat them in. (Watch out - it's messy!). Once they are incorporated, you have a product that is the consistency of margarine, tastes like regular butter, and makes your butter go twice as far! Lovely!

A Handmaiden of the Lord, Post #8

Today I am pleased to introduce my first guest blogger, and someone whom I love very much; my mother. I asked her to write the final post this week on self-control, and she kindly obliged. I can't wait to read her post myself!

A Handmaiden of the Lord...

...has control in the area of her time.

Amber has asked me to add to her blog this week about time control. I am not a pro in this area but I have learned a few things in my life so far that I can share for those interested.

I believe the biggest issue at hand is understanding that time is temporary and is God-given. The Bible tells us that our life is but a vapor that appeareth for a little while and then vanisheth away (James). We are also told to ask God to help us number our days (Ps. 90). So we are accountable to every day He allows us to live and serve Him.

Yesterday I was down all day with a migraine headache and total exhaustion. My husband told me to rest all day. I easily obeyed and today I can function again. There are times we just need to take for refreshment, whether in our physical, mental, spiritual being, or whatever seems to be putting us to the limit.

If we are too busy to spend a good time with our Lord in prayer and His Word we are too busy. I still remember a lesson I learned in my late teens from an older woman in my life who said we should spend at least the same amount of time, if not more, on our inner beauty in the morning as we do on our outer beauty. Wow! If we count the minutes between opening our eyes and being adorned for the day and then count our minutes with God, how do we fare? I guess my greatest word here would be to keep our minds on Him during our day.

Then we can make to-do lists. I really enjoy writing down things and crossing off things as they get done! It's a great feeling to see the list disappear.

A simple thing I do is set a timer for things I want to get done quickly. I also set the timer upstairs for laundry buzzers in the basement I might not pay attention to otherwise.

I like to think of 2-3 things I can do at the same time if possible. I heard once of a lady who brushes her toilet bowl while she brushes her teeth. I personally cannot quite stomach that one, but I can sprinkle cleaner in the tub while I clean the sink. I always put laundry in before doing morning dishes. I can write letters or notes while my children are doing writing or reading lessons. I can make time to help my husband in the garden or play catch with my son. Like Amber has shared, self control is asking God's help to make sure our bodies know they are under our direction, not the other way around.

Having time for people is more important to God's kingdom than having to wrestle with daily clutter and dirt. If we can manage a good rule of cleaning day by day we will be pleasantly surprised at the extra time we can take for those we love or those who need to be loved. We are in a spiritual battle and it definitely hits our clocks too. It's okay to let some things slide if eternity is in view. I know my house has had less attention when I had babies and toddlers. Now I see much fruit from it all - even though I often thought I was failing to "get it all done." God understands and will bless the heart that seeks Him.

Priorities in every area of our life should be laid at the feet of the Master and then be done diligently as unto Him and not unto men. Time is a precious gift and we are all given the same daily amount, but not the same number of days. May the Lord help us all to waste it less and strive to please Him more.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Thanks, Mom, for taking the time to write this, and for helping me in my daily life to see how I can improve my time management. Ladies, would you believe I used to let the laundry machine sit empty while I did dishes? I still do, sometimes. :)

Housework isn't the only place I need to learn to balance, but it's a good place to learn the concept of time management. If I can clean a tub and sink at the same time, I ought to be able to cook supper and wash dishes at the same time, or check my email and study Spanish at the same time. :)

Speaking of time, I have some sewing that is calling my name, so I'd better go for now. May you all have a blessed - and profitable - day!

A few thoughts from the mind of Amber

~ Pockets should be large enough to cram not only your hands into, but also part of your wrists.

~ Clothing should touch the floor and make a sort of seal there, preventing air from creeping under it.

~ Hair should be worn covering the neck, acting as a scarf.

~ Blankets should be accepted for daytime, not only nighttime, use.

~ Shirt sleeves should cover the longest fingertips.

~ Socks should be at least 1/4'' thick.

~ Cold water from the faucet should be outlawed.

~ The same thing goes for drafts under the front door...or back door. Or any door.

~ Computer keyboards should be heated.

~ While we're at it, heated floors aren't a bad idea either.

~ The value of rice bags cannot be measured.


I

am

COLD.

Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr




....But I still think the schools in our city are strange to cancel because of the cold.

Life is uncertain

I don't have much time for a blog post today. Mom woke up feeling unwell, so I have jobs to do today that I didn't plan on. However, in lieu of a long written post, I thought I'd share a certain photo that I just love:



This photo is my laptop wallpaper right now. My sister Tiffany took it when she, Lezley, and I were in the kitchen making pumpkin butter this fall.

Just look at that plump seed! And the way the strands of pumpkin have caught the light. Can't you just feel the sliminess? Even the texture of the wax paper is clear.

A single seed: something we might easily overlook until the camera has focused on it, shutting out all other views. Then, suddenly, it become interesting. We see details. It becomes fascinating.

Life is like that.

Those little details; that breakfast I cooked this morning, and the dishes I washed...that "love pat" I gave Lezley this morning when she went skipping by....the "good morning" I said to Tiffany....they are all very insignificant when mixed in the swirl of life. But when you look at them by themselves....

Well, let's just say that I remember kind words and deeds done for me years and years ago. They will always remain in my mind, and I don't call that insignificant.

Not at all.

A Handmaiden of the Lord, Post #7

Self-Control is...

...siting down and making myself write a post when I'd much rather be off the computer.

But I said I'd write 5 posts this week, so I will. :) But y'all will probably be glad to get a break from my long-winded posts that I've been writing lately. This will be short and sweet.

(Next week I plan to share photos of the projects I sewed for Christmas. Stay tuned!)

A Handmaiden of the Lord has...

patience.

Yes, perhaps the ultimate area of self-control. I heard a mother explain patience to her child like this;

"Wait with a smile."

Us older folks don't really need to be told what patience is. We know what it is, and we know we are to have it. Of course the Bible is full of verses telling us to cultivate patience:

"Now we exhort you, brethren, ...be patient toward all men." (1Thess.5:14)

"And the servant of the Lord must not strive; but be gentle unto all men, apt to teach, patient,
In meekness instructing those that oppose themselves; if God peradventure will give them repentance to the acknowledging of the truth;" (2Tim.2:24-25)

A verse that really taught me a lot about patience doesn't even contain the word patience. Right before reading it, I was complaining about how my younger siblings tried my patience, and I guess in my mind, their wrong-doing gave me a right to be impatient. Then I read this:

"They angered him also at the waters of strife, so that it went ill with Moses for their sakes:
Because they provoked his spirit, so that he spake unadvisedly with his lips." (Ps. 106:32-33)

This verse makes it quite clear that the Israelites were provoking. They were in the wrong.

So Moses "spake unadvisedly."

And God punished him.

Whoops. There go my excuses.

A Handmaiden of the Lord, Post #6

A Handmaiden of the Lord is...

...not a glutton.

Yes - I'm actually going to write about gluttony; the avoided word that we all joke about. I've never in my life heard a sermon on gluttony, and I've heard very few people talk seriously about it, but it is mentioned in the Bible.

The fact is, the Bible talks about gluttony in the same breath as drunkenness, (Prov. 23:21, Deut. 21:20) and associates it with disobedience. (Deut. 21:20) In a series about self-control, how can we omit a post on gluttony? For that's really all gluttony is - an inability to control our fleshly appetites.

The opposite of gluttony is described by Jesus in Luke 12 :

22 And he said unto his disciples, Therefore I say unto you, Take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat; neither for the body, what ye shall put on.
23 The life is more than meat, and the body is more than raiment.
24 Consider the ravens: for they neither sow nor reap; which neither have storehouse nor barn; and God feedeth them: how much more are ye better than the fowls?
25 And which of you with taking thought can add to his stature one cubit?
26 If ye then be not able to do that thing which is least, why take ye thought for the rest?
27 Consider the lilies how they grow: they toil not, they spin not; and yet I say unto you, that Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.
28 If then God so clothe the grass, which is to day in the field, and to morrow is cast into the oven; how much more will he clothe you, O ye of little faith?
29 And seek not ye what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink, neither be ye of doubtful mind.
30 For all these things do the nations of the world seek after: and your Father knoweth that ye have need of these things.
31 But rather seek ye the kingdom of God; and all these things shall be added unto you.

"The life is more than meat, and the body is more than raiment." How many times I have repeated that to myself! 'Specially when surveying my stuffed bedroom closet.

The idea of self-control is to have moderation (Phil.4:5) , and to determine my actions, not simply react to my situation instinctively - for human beings instinctively sin.

Jesus spoke often of denying the flesh, and Proverbs 23 mentions gluttony like this:

1 When thou sittest to eat with a ruler, consider diligently what is before thee:
2 And put a knife to thy throat, if thou be a man given to appetite.

In context, these verses aren't forbidding fancy food - they are a warning to those who can't control their lust for riches. Appetite means more than just a hunger for food, you know.

I could have an appetite for filthy books or movies. Or an appetite for money. Or an appetite for excessive sports. Or excessive anything. And if I can't control that appetite, it's wrong.

That's it. If we can't control something, it has no business being in our lives, because we are to be "...Casting down imaginations, and every high thing that exalteth itself against the knowledge of God, and bringing into captivity every THOUGHT to the obedience of Christ," according to 2 Corinthians chapter 10.

But....since we're on the subject, it might be a wise thing to consider gluttony as it relates to food. How many of us hardly ever fast from food, because we enjoy our food too much?

My hand is up.

How many of us eat that scoop of dessert, not because we're hungry, but to satisfy our taste buds?

My hand is up.

How many of us could feed a family of four in India for an entire day on what we eat in one meal? I once read a book written by a Indian preacher who visited America, and I could hear the disgust in his voice as he wrote that the average American church-goer could feed a family in India for one day on just what they eat at one fellowship meal.

My Dad puts it this way; "Do you eat to live, or live to eat?"

I'm not saying we ought to become monks, and torture our bodies, but is your body subjected to you? ...Or is it the other way around? Can you tell it what to do, or do you comply with any and every demand it sends out?

Twice in my life, I've tried what I call "the Daniel Diet." Not "diet" as in the latest fad, but "diet" as in "this is what I'm eating." I went for a week without sugar, bread, pasta, condiments, sauces, etc. Just water, fruit, veggies, eggs, honey, and oats. That was it.

Why? To see if I could do it. To tell my body who is boss.

Fasting is a very Biblical thing to do. I have fasted when a prayer request burdened my heart excessively, but I have also fasted just to remind my body that "life is more that meat." I believe both types of fasting have a spiritual benefit.

Today, after a talk with some of my family last night about this topic, some of my siblings and I decided to go for 1 day consuming just liquids. And so far we've done it - despite the fact that pizza is on the lunch menu. :)

Food isn't the only thing I've fasted from. Several years ago, I had a fascination with novels. Not a mild interest, and not a healthy love for a story, but a ravenous, read-four-350pg.-books-in-one-night-even-if-it-takes-me-'til-midnight-and-I-have-to-hide-my-lamplight-from-Mom-and-Dad type of fascination. The books I were reading were almost all written by Christian authors, and they weren't books I would have hidden from my parents, but the time I spent on them was the problem.

One Sunday during a service, God convicted me of disobeying His command to "redeem the time, because the days are evil," and I made a commitment to Him that I would go without novels for one year.

I kept a journal devoted specifically to that adventure in my life, and reading it even now brings back all those emotions so vividly. Those were terribly hard months. I was literally breaking an addiction, and I had "with-drawl symptoms." I had emotional upheavals, and sometime I would lay on my bed and cry because I had to struggle so hard to maintain control of what books I was reading.

But I made it. What's more, that year broke the hold novels had on me. And it also gave me a huge increase in my love for God's Word.

The benefits of self-control are eternal, and so huge that I can't possibly write about them adequately. I know I need to increase control of my appetites in many areas still...but I know it is possible to control anything with the help of the Holy Spirit. Nothing is beyond His control. So I take courage.

...For now, I must get back to work, because I sit surrounded by stacks of clothing. I've been weeding through my closet this morning, and I'm pleased to say it's much thinner than it was, but I have a lot more work to do still.

So off I go!

Rules for Participation:

Each of you ladies - old and young - who read this blog have insight that you can contribute for the edification of the rest of us. Particularly those of you who are older in the faith...but even younger sisters can have words of wisdom. I would like to humbly request your active involvement in this series.

In the comment section of each post, I would like each of you to do one of two things;

~ 1: If you do not have a blog, please leave your thoughts directly in the comment section.

~ 2: If you have a blog, please go there and write a small post containing your thoughts on whatever quality is under discussion here. Make it Biblical; share verses the Lord has used in your heart. The world is full of opinions - we don't need more of that. We need more of the Lord.

Then come back here and leave a link to your post in the comment section. (To make it easier for us to find the right post, please link directly to the post, not your front page.) If you would like to, please direct your blog readers here so that they can find more discussion, from other readers.

Surprise! A Handmaiden of the Lord, Post #5

A Handmaiden of the Lord has...

Temperance...

...Otherwise known as Self-Control.

I bet you thought I forgot about this series, didn't you? Never fear - I haven't. I've just been waiting for the right timing to pick it up again.

In the meantime, I've had a few new ideas come to me. This week, I want to write about Temperance, a fruit of the Spirit, which is certainly something a Handmaiden of the Lord ought to have.

But it's such a broad topic. Very broad. And not one that I'm an expert in, by any means!

Yet it's an important topic. Very important. And discussion of it can hardly be unprofitable.

I plan to do a series of posts about self-control this week, Lord willing. They will hardly scratch the surface, but in each of the five posts, I hope to cover a different aspect of self-control. As a bonus treat, I've asked my mother to write the Friday post, on an aspect of self-control that is perhaps the most difficult, and which she is much more fit to write about than me.

I don't really like the term "self-control;" I much prefer "temperance." Since when were human beings able to control themselves without the help of God? Self-control is non-existent. We are either a servant to sin or to the Lord - controlled by one or the other, but certainly not by ourselves. However, I understand that in general conversation, "self-control" can refer to the power God gives His child to stay on the right path, so I'll use "self-control" and "temperance" interchangeably in these posts.

For today:

A Handmaiden of the Lord has poise.

What an old-fashioned word, right?

The word poise makes me think of a princess. ...Or at the very least, a grand Victorian beauty. Poise is associated with grandness, richness, and an uppity class - at least in my mind. I never associated it with self-control until lately.

Lately, I've been thinking that perhaps poise is a pleasant, rather than prideful, thing. Aren't we princesses of the highest King? And if we are to have self-control in our lives, shouldn't it be an outer self-control? I mean, really, if a person can't see your self-control, do you really have any worth speaking of?

Here's a definition of poise that I just found in an online dictionary:

1: a stably balanced state : equilibrium poise between widely divergent impulses — F. R. Leavis>2 a: easy self-possessed assurance of manner : gracious tact in coping or handling ; also : the pleasantly tranquil interaction between persons of poise poise of the meeting> b: a particular way of carrying oneself : bearing , carriage

synonyms see tact

A balanced person - now there's a rare thing indeed! But does not Paul tell the Philippians "let your moderation be known unto all men"? (4:5) That's balance. Apparently, it's also poise.

We all know what poise is not.

The shy young girl, standing against the wall at a gathering. Her eyes flit from group to group, hesitating, and unsure whether to laugh with her fellows or not. She starts toward one cluster of girls her own age, then steps back against the wall again, the picture of awkwardness. An older woman takes pity on her and approaches the wall where the self-banished girl leans. She attempts to make conversation, but is answered with monosyllables and small sighs which betray how uncomfortable the girl is. Everything about the girl, from her posture to her clothing, instantly tell an observer that she is not "in."

Do we also know that poise is not this?:

The flamboyant young thing, wearing her latest glittery purchase, whose giggle reaches all corners of the room. She has no trouble making friends, and her conversations - though they consists of much more talking than listening - are always the liveliest in the room. The envy of shyer females, her tongue can trip along from subject to subject without the slightest effort. As soon as she entered the room, she headed straight for the largest circle, and was accepted with much noise and elation. Like a windup toy, she seems unable to stop herself from constant laughter and talk.

I think the most educational thought about poise I've ever received came from our Pastor during a sermon.

He was telling about something he used to teach his children. "Even his girls," as he put it.

"Walk with authority. Walk like you know where you're going - even if you walk straight into a brick wall."

That doesn't mean we become know-it-alls. And it doesn't mean we become rough.

It just means that

if you're going to do something, do it on purpose.

Don't flit around the room, hesitating, unsure of how to act. Don't laugh just because. If you're going to walk a room, have a purpose once you get to the other side. If you're going to laugh, laugh because something is truly wholesome amusement. We are children of the King. Determine what is right, decide what you must do, and then have the courage - and self-control - to carry it out.

This means that when you're terrified of walking up to those visitors and making them welcome, do it anyway. And do it graciously.

This means that when someone throws verbal mud in your face, know how to react, and carry that out gently and peacefullyy. "Let your speech be alway with grace, seasoned with salt, that ye may know how ye ought to answer every man." (Col. 4:6)

This means that when you have an opportunity to witness, your feet have been "shod with the preparation of the gospel of peace." (Eph. 6:15) beforehand.

This means that when being introduced to someone, you forget your own awkwardness and treat them with the kindness you know you must.

This means that at a gathering, you do your best to make everyone there welcome - even at the expense of your own feelings.

This means that you refrain from talking when you know others wish to speak - even if that perfect story is on the tip of your tongue!

This means that you are balanced. Stable. Prepared for anything life might throw at you. Rudeness, shyness, new situations, unkindness....nothing should be able to throw you off balance and behave in a way that you hadn't planned. All your behavior is pre-meditated, and you have determined beforehand to be kind, gracious, tactful, etc.

You are fixed on the rock, and that rock is Christ.

This means, "Finally, be ye all of one mind, having compassion one of another, love as brethren, be pitiful, be courteous: Not rendering evil for evil, or railing for railing: but contrariwise blessing; knowing that ye are thereunto called, that ye should inherit a blessing. For he that will love life, and see good days, let him refrain his tongue from evil, and his lips that they speak no guile: Let him eschew evil, and do good; let him seek peace, and ensue it." (1Peter3:8-11)

A gracious woman retaineth honour: and strong men retain riches.
(Proverbs 11:16)

Rules for Participation:

Each of you ladies - old and young - who read this blog have insight that you can contribute for the edification of the rest of us. Particularly those of you who are older in the faith...but even younger sisters can have words of wisdom. I would like to humbly request your active involvement in this series.

In the comment section of each post, I would like each of you to do one of two things;

~ 1: If you do not have a blog, please leave your thoughts directly in the comment section.

~ 2: If you have a blog, please go there and write a small post containing your thoughts on whatever quality is under discussion here. Make it Biblical; share verses the Lord has used in your heart. The world is full of opinions - we don't need more of that. We need more of the Lord.

Then come back here and leave a link to your post in the comment section. (To make it easier for us to find the right post, please link directly to the post, not your front page.) If you would like to, please direct your blog readers here so that they can find more discussion, from other readers.

Fruit of my Hands; Talking Hands

This afternoon my brother Curtis and I went to a gym about 20 minutes from our house, to shoot some baskets. Today we got the first sunshine we've had in a long while, and I wanted to do something active, but it was so cold that I was glad we were running around inside.

We played four games of Around the World, and I surprised myself by not doing too bad. I've played basketball so seldom that I'm a terrible shot.

It felt great to be running around - oh, I can't tell you how good! I definitely have cabin fever. Come on, spring!

While we were there, we met a deaf man. The first question he asked me, after finding out that I could sign, was "where do you do to church?"

How did he know we went to church at all? What made him ask that so randomly, and first thing after meeting me?

We had an interesting conversation. It sounds like he wants to come to church with us sometime. The Lord must have set up that conversation.

Hmm...have I mentioned on this blog that I know sign language? I don't think I have. I guess it never came up. Well, I don't sign that well anyway. But I have had the honor of being an interpreter at our church. It lasted for about four years, and was one of the most special experiences in my life.

You see, I signed for one man only.

His name was Mr. Fred, and he was a Grandpa and father to some of the members of our church. With shiny white hair and laugh lines around his eyes, it's a wonder I was scared of him.

But I was.

I already knew sign language - some - when we started attending this church. And they were praying for a interpreter to come; it was on the prayer list the day we visited the first time.

But I had studied S.L. on my own, and never used it outside of my family. I was very insecure and nervous about actually trying it out on a deaf person. What would he think of me, stumbling around in his world? My family - and his - urged me to let Mr. Fred know that I knew sign language, and could interpret for him, but I resisted. I didn't know if I could communicate. And anyway, how do you walk up to a stranger and offer to be his ears? I don't remember how long I refused to talk to Mr. Fred, but it was months.

Then our church decided to ask a teacher to come host a S.L. class for several weeks at church, during the weekdays. The plan was to make more folks comfortable talking with Mr. Fred, so he would feel more at home at our church.

Lots of people showed up for the classes, and I loved them. I was excited to learn that I had so many signs right, and to see that there was so much more I could learn.

...The thing I remember most vividly about the classes was the time the teacher walked up behind me, laid his hands on my shoulders, and told everyone around me "this girl knows a lot more about signs than she lets on. You let her show you how to do these."

Mentally, my jaw dropped. How did he know I knew signs? But I was very encouraged to hear him say that. It kinda made my heart soar. Maybe I really could sign.

Or maybe not.

Maybe.

Maybe not.

I still struggled. Mr. Fred attended the classes, and I talked to him a little bit, but I was still terrified at the thought of interpreting a service.

But one night at church several of us girls asked our parents if it was okay to all sit together during the evening service - just for fun. They were okay with that, so we all sat down together on the second pew on the right side of the church.

Now, I had developed a habit of signing all the songs we sang at church. Signing with music...how can I explain it? ...It's like dancing, flying, spinning, crying. I love it. One of the boys at church had asked me; "Why do you always sign when we sing? Are you trying to show off?" He shocked me when he asked that, because I hadn't thought about it that way before.

"No, I'm not. I just love to sign."

I thought about stopping, after that, but I just couldn't. So I continued.

That Sunday night, I was signing along during one of the songs, and I heard - or felt, rather - a slight commotion in the pew behind us. Turing slightly, I saw that Mr. Fred and his son and daughter-in-law were filing into the pew behind us. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw them motion to Mr. Fred, pointing and nodding at me.

"Oh no. He sees me."

There was a tug on my elbow. There he was, grinning, and motioning for me to turn sideways so he could see what I was signing.

I obliged; I signed. It was easy. I had signed these songs so many times. I was conscious of the entire church's eyes, but mostly I just saw Mr. Fred. I was having fun. I was nervous, but I was loving it. ...But I was very nervous.

Song time ended. I sank into my pew, weak-kneed and head spinning. I was glad it was time for the preaching to start.

Then Mr. Fred tapped my shoulder. I turned, and he was motioning for me to translate.

"Oh no. I can't do this. Not a sermon. I can't do it." I grasped for words to explain to him that I hadn't meant to sign the service for him. But there he was, and suddenly I realized he had never heard our Pastor preach. Not one single time. How could I deny him the opportunity to at least hear a little?

So, swallowing hard, I stumbled through my first sentence. Sentence by sentence, phrase by phrase, I made it through that sermon.

It was strange. Inside, I was trembling, nervous, jerky, frantic. Outside, I was actually signing a sermon. Deep inside, I was peaceful. I felt as if I were only a pipe; God's Word was flowing through the man in the pulpit, into the ears of the congregation. Now those words were flowing into Mr. Fred's ears too - they just had to go through me first. The honor of it all numbed me.

After that, it was a standard thing. Every Sunday night, Mr. Fred was there. And I translated.

We developed a relationship of sorts. What a sense of humor he had! He loved to pick on me. He loved to make me laugh right in the middle of the service. He taught me all sorts of new signs. I learned so much from him. He was always willing to tell me how to sign things "right," yet he never criticized my poor interpreting. I was slow, and my vocabulary was very limited, but he took what I had and thanked me.

Before and after services, we would talk. He would tell me stupendous stories in the good old fashion of an old-timer spinning a yarn. He would tell me of his growing up years. He would tell me, over and over, of the night he was saved, and the night God spared his life on a motorcycle. ...And the time he stole his brother's truck keys and drove around the neighborhood at 7 years old.

And he loved to talk about the rapture.

Other people in the church got involved too. They would come up and ask me to help them talk with Mr. Fred. They would talk to me about S.L.

Sometimes - often, really - I would dread Sunday night service a wee bit. Translating took energy and a lot of brain power. By the end of the service I would feel brain-dead, my arms would ache, my lips would be tired from mouthing words, and my mouth would be dry. I would feel like I'd preached the message. :)

But it was worth it. Oh so worth it!

I remember the time when, early in our acquaintance, Mr. Fred gave me my name. In the deaf community, one must have a sign name to go by, and it's improper to name yourself. Someone else must do it.

Mr. Fred asked me for my sign name. I told him I didn't have one. After thinking for a moment, he started nodding. He made the sign for missionary, and questioned me. I nodded that I knew that sign; a "M" hand circled over the heart.

Alright then, he signed. Now we do this. A-M-B-E-R. Your name. Your sign name...and he signed missionary, only with an "A" hand instead of a "M." My breath caught in my throat.

I could write for a long time about Mr. Fred. The memories are precious. For 4 years I was his ears at church. I loved it.

Last year, in February, right after his 81st birthday, Mr. Fred passed away. When I heard the news, I couldn't feel sorry. I had visited him in the hospital and nursing home, suffering so. I knew he had finally heard the words "well done, thou good a faithful servant. Enter into the joy of your Lord." I didn't really cry, but two tears slipped down my cheeks - tears of joy. How I wished I could have been there, watching him explore Heaven, listening, listening, listening, as hard as he could!

Mr. Fred's funeral was the second one I had ever gone to in my life, and the first of someone close to me. I hadn't expected him to look so lifelike in the coffin. I hadn't expected such a jerk of emotions. I couldn't really think conscious thoughts, with words, but a dull knowing hung over me; "I'll never sign songs to him again. I'll never sign at church again. I'll never sign at church again." I didn't wish him back. I've never wished him back. But I felt so sorry for myself, left behind.

It's been almost a year now. I still miss him. I still miss signing. A lot. Lately, I've tried a few times to go back to my habit of signing the songs at church. I can't do it yet; I start crying. I miss it so, yet I lose control of my emotions when I do it.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

...Well I've just gone and had a good cry on Mom's shoulder. I just couldn't keep writing.

Mom suggested that I not publish this blog post. It's too personal. I know it's personal. Believe me, I know.

But I want folks to know. I want them to know there was a man named Mr. Fred. I want them to know what a joy it is to be welcomed into that "inner circle" of a person whom the world views as handicapped. I want them to know about signs.

I want them to know what it's like to translate. It's work. Hard work. But it's fun. I think that's what hurts me most. I'm happy for Mr. Fred where he is. But I'm left with talking fingers, and no one to listen. That makes me sad.

So now I've poured out my soul into a little blog post. Well, a very long blog post. I hope y'all have understanding ears. I want you to feel what I've felt - the delights of knowing someone. The delights of helping him. The happiness of it all. If you can catch a glimpse of that, it's worth the risk I've taken in publishing a very personal blog post.

Today at Lunch

Lezley said "Mommy, for supper tonight, can we have a pillow dinner?"

All 6 of us around the table stopped eating and looked at her.

Undaunted, Lezley turned to her sister. "Tiffy, tell her what I mean." Then she turned back to Mom. "You know, the little pillows. They're stuffed with meat and cheese and stuff. Can we have pillows for supper?"

Tiffany explained. "She means ravioli, Mom."

"What's ravioli?" Lezley asked.

"What you've been describing." Mom smiled.

It's not a suggestion

If you live on planet earth, I insist you watch this video.

Afterward, go here to see parts 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, and 7. I was sobbing by the time I got to part 6. Not because it's sad... I was just in shock.

I don't know why I was shocked; I knew my God was that big. I knew He was that powerful. I knew He was that amazing.

But I didn't know He had done this. And so I cried.

Don't you dare not watch all seven parts.

So maybe it isn't exactly a burger, but...

...It came close.

I spent this morning caring for 8 one-year-olds.

Yes; eight.

For two hours.

I do that about twice a month (well, actually there are usually only 6 or 7 little folks, but still). I love being around little people, specially with my own siblings so grown up now, but I admit that 8 at once, for 2 hours can become a hassle quite easily.

This morning seemed rough, though there were times of laughter, too. One little girl made me pray for patience in a way I hadn't prayed in a loooong time. ...But another made me laugh.

All in all, however, I was exhausted by 12:00, and ever so hungry.

I mean really hungry, as in "if-I-don't-eat-in-five-minutes-I'll-start-sampling-the-edges-of-my-coat."

About ten minutes before 1:00, I sank my teeth into the most wonderful sandwich. Perhaps it was my hunger. Perhaps I was just glad to be sitting down. But I thought it was delicious.

It is a sandwich that tastes like a tuna burger. No grilling. No complex processes. Easy to fix - and fast. That's very important when you're starving. And it's yummy.

But don't just take my word for it. If you want to create your own, here are the ingredients:

~ Two slices of bread, or a hamburger bun
~ Canned Tuna, drained, and mixed with mayo, as if you were making a tuna sandwich
~ Lettuce
~ Cheese (a big, thick slice!)
~ Pickles (didn't have those today, but I KNOW they would have been good!)
~ Ketchup

Spread tuna-mayo mix on your bread, as if you're making a tuna sandwich. Add the other ingredients, turning the sandwich into a tuna burger. Tada!

.... I've mentioned this kind of sandwich to folks before, and they think it sounds terrible, but if you're really in the mood for a burger, and you're short on time, I urge you to try this. You just might love it!

Bread

The first Monday of the New Year.

Gone is vacation time, gone is staying up late, gone is sleeping in a little, gone is a break from teaching lessons, gone is eating sweets, gone is being generally laid-back and - I'm afraid - a little lazy.

Here is scheduled time again. Here is schoolwork for younger siblings. Here are sewing students returning. Here are sister's piano students returning. Here are more chores. Here is a cleaner house. Here is a more organized bedroom. Here is more time set aside for writing, reading, blogging, studying, music practice. Here is wonderful life!

I enjoyed the holidays, but I'm thankful that life can return to "normal" again. ...But not quite normal. This didn't intentionally happen around New Years, and I didn't plan to make "New Year resolutions," but I feel in myself a desire to follow God more closely from now on. I feel a longing to truly redeem the time. I feel sick of fruitless endeavors and frivolous entertainment. I feel a longing to work, and work hard. I feel a longing to delight myself in the Lord, and see Him grant the desires of my heart. I feel a desire to truly abide in Him, revel in Him, bask in Him.

I found something interesting in my Bible reading a few weeks ago. It's always been there in the Bible, but somehow I missed it.

John 6

33 For the bread of God is he which cometh down from heaven, and giveth life unto the world.
34 Then said they unto him, Lord, evermore give us this bread.
35 And Jesus said unto them, I am the bread of life: he that cometh to me shall never hunger; and he that believeth on me shall never thirst. ...

47 ...Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that believeth on me hath everlasting life.
48 I am that bread of life.
49 Your fathers did eat manna in the wilderness, and are dead.
50 This is the bread which cometh down from heaven, that a man may eat thereof, and not die.
51 I am the living bread which came down from heaven: if any man eat of this bread, he shall live for ever: and the bread that I will give is my flesh, which I will give for the life of the world.
52 The Jews therefore strove among themselves, saying, How can this man give us his flesh to eat?
53 Then Jesus said unto them, Verily, verily, I say unto you, Except ye eat the flesh of the Son of man, and drink his blood, ye have no life in you.
54 Whoso eateth my flesh, and drinketh my blood, hath eternal life; and I will raise him up at the last day.
55 For my flesh is meat indeed, and my blood is drink indeed.
56 He that eateth my flesh, and drinketh my blood, dwelleth in me, and I in him.
57 As the living Father hath sent me, and I live by the Father: so he that eateth me, even he shall live by me.
58 This is that bread which came down from heaven: not as your fathers did eat manna, and are dead: he that eateth of this bread shall live for ever.
59 These things said he in the synagogue, as he taught in Capernaum.
60 Many therefore of his disciples, when they had heard this, said, This is an hard saying; who can hear it?
61 When Jesus knew in himself that his disciples murmured at it, he said unto them, Doth this offend you?
62 What and if ye shall see the Son of man ascend up where he was before?
63 It is the spirit that quickeneth; the flesh profiteth nothing: the words that I speak unto you, they are spirit, and they are life.

My first reaction to these words was just like the Jews; "yuck!" It really doesn't sound all that appealing for Jesus' flesh to be considered bread.

But then I started to really wonder what it is for Jesus to be the Bread of Life. I hadn't thought about it before; I'd always heard folks say it, and thought "oh, that sounds nice. Jesus is the Bread of Life."

So what? What is it to be the Bread of Life?

What is bread?
Bread is yummy, filling, life-giving, tender, delicious stuff. Back in Bible days it was a mainstay of the diet. If you didn't have bread, you pretty much were too poor to have anything. You might not be able to afford meat, but you lived on bread. Not just basic wheat bread, either; barley, wheat, oats, millet, ...I'm not an expert on what grains were available in the middle east, but I know the people there enjoyed more variety in their bread than most of us do today. Ezekiel made bread with wheat, and barley, and beans, and lentiles, and millet, and fitches. I've heard that he could get all his needed nutrients from that bread alone.

Then I pictured my family around the table when the meal includes homemade bread. We rave over it. We slather butter on warm slices. We debate who gets the last slice. We sink our teeth into the spongy centers of our rolls. We love bread.

Bread doesn't just sustain life; it lends pleasure to life as well.

Physical bread contributes to physical life. We take it into ourselves and it fills us with delight. It satisfies our taste buds. It gives us energy. We can't wait to eat it. It keeps us alive.

The analogy filled my mind in a split second. As I pondered what physical bread means to our physical bodies, I instantly "got it." Jesus is such a master at making us understand spiritual things by using physical illustrations.

Spiritual bread! Jesus is to be in us. He is to fill us with delight. He is to satisfy us. He is to give us spiritual energy. We are to long after Him. He keeps our spirits alive and refreshed.

Then I thought of water. Jesus is the living water. Water! Spiritual water! Ah, suddenly everything was making sense.

The Bread of Life.

What a wonderful concept. Deeper than my mind can grasp... yet just knowing the edge of the beginning of knowledge gives me the shivers.

Can't you just smell the aroma?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

In light of those thoughts, I'll think I list some of the goals that have come to my mind; ways I want to learn to redeem the time, be filled with this Bread, and follow my God. (No particular order):

~ I plan to practice my music more this year
~ I'd like to get up early enough to have at least an hour with God every morning before the day starts in earnest. I've been starting to sleep in more often, but I want to quit that!
~ I'd like to read more uplifting books.
~ I want to complete reading through the Bible before my birthday in May.
~ I want to go to bed at the time I actually have written down!
~ I want to become more patient and loving; particularly in my relationship to a certain sibling.
~ I want my tongue to be guarded more closely.
~ I want to smile more.

Making Progress

Yesterday was my turn to work out in the cold wind. Curtis finished all the framework on Dad's greenhouse and, according to the unspoken bargain between us, whenever we two do a project together, Curt does the woodwork - which I'm not good at in the slightest - and I do the sanding and staining, which Curt doesn't like doing.

I finished staining just the roof yesterday. It took me 2 hours, and that was cold enough for me. I was going to do more today. But I think the wood is frozen.

I downloaded 69 pictures from our camera to my computer today. It's been so long since I've shared pictures on here, but hopefully my computer will behave for awhile, and I can share those 69 pictures a little at a time.

For now:

Celebrating the completion of the framing. Dimensions: 6'x6'x6'sloped to 8'. Didn't Curt do a great job? I drafted the "blueprint," showed it to him, and he made it come true. I love the door.

That's Curt on top of the greenhouse, acting a little goofy in his excitement and relief at finishing. It was a cold job. Justin, who helped Curtis quite a bit that last day, is doing the jumping. What a monkey. :) When I was staining, he kept swinging around and over the structure. I was waiting for him to get stain on himself, and he did eventually, but he just laughed.

I'm standing on the right side of the greenhouse, and Tiffany is standing on the left part of the greenhouse. She was quite a trooper; braving the cold to help Curt even more than me. She handed him nails, fetched things, held things, and kept him company. Way to go, Tiffy!

Here's Curt working on the greenhouse earlier. See the garden behind him?:) All that green is winter wheat. It will be tilled into the soil this spring.

And here I am holding the sides while Curt attaches them.

That's all for now, folks!