...Have you thanked God for your mother today?
I had two separate, yet related, thoughts going through my head a lot today. One was, "I can't wait to be a mother!" and the other was, "what a mother I have!"
I am very different from my mom, and we "butt heads," as she puts it, quite often, but little by little - I hope - I am learning to submit and open my eyes to what this woman does in my life. God didn't make her my mother by accident. She's wonderful. And no matter how many times I tell her that, I can't make up for the times she's told me I'm wonderful, or that she loves me, or that I'm talented, or that I'm a blessing to her. My mom makes me feel so needed and abundant that I can't help wanting to really be those things, and wanting to help her to the utmost of my strength.
My mom excels in encouragement. And I sure appreciate that about her! It's kept me afloat in many a trial. I'm the sort of person who thrives on encouragement, and aches to be told "well done," and...
...what am I saying? We all like that sort of thing! I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm prone to get discouraged easily, and Mom has always been there to encourage me. But because of that I'm prone to take her for granted.
I'm prone to forget that she needs encouragement too. I'm prone to forget that I'm here to help her, and to be her right hand girl. Mothers give, give, give all the time. Someday it will be my turn to do that, but that doesn't mean I shouldn't be starting to give a lot now. I shouldn't be taking all the time!
So here's a little reminder, younger ladies; give to your mother. Stop and thank God for her - and thank her, too. She's worth it!
Monday, July 19, 2010
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
A New Website!
Whoever would have thunk it? ...As certain friends of mine would say. :)
I am pleased to announce that I've got a new website!
All of you know that I love to write, and most of you know that I've published a book. Ask Thy Father was published in 2008, and has been well received by those who have read it. It was this book that led to my speaking at the Celebrate the Glory Conference in October, as some of you may remember.
Though it's gone over quite well locally, in the two years it's been around I've never been very good at marketing it anywhere else; I should say that's rather a weak point in my personality. But I've always wanted to sell it on a larger scale, and finally that has stopped being a dream and started looking like a reality!
I also plan to sell other books on my site, as fast as I can get them written and published....and maybe someday branch out into selling books for others. (Did that make any of you writers perk your ears? :) :)
Oh yes - one of those books I hope to publish in the near future is being written because I finally decided to take your advice. Remember all those stories I've written here at The Fruit of Her Hands, based on Bible characters? And remember how you told me I ought to try writing a book along those lines? Well....I'm trying it!
I've gotten stiff shoulders from hunching over my laptop for two days, but it's been great fun. I love designing things! I can't believe I own a website.
But it's more than that. Yes, it's cool to think that I've got a book with my name on the cover being sold on a real, live website....but it's not truly a huge deal. It doesn't matter that much to me - it's only a passing novelty. What really excites me is the thought that maybe, through this avenue, I'll be able to share my heart with more readers. You know that is what my writing is, don't you? It's my heart.
So this day is more than "exciting" and "cool." It's precious to my heart. It means I'm holding my breath, waiting to see if I'll contact any new friends through this venture. It means I'm praying for God to use ink and pieces of paper. Will you pray for that, too?
Oh yes - just in case you want to see the site .... (I told you I'm bad at advertising!):
Copy this code to your website to display this banner!
I am pleased to announce that I've got a new website!
All of you know that I love to write, and most of you know that I've published a book. Ask Thy Father was published in 2008, and has been well received by those who have read it. It was this book that led to my speaking at the Celebrate the Glory Conference in October, as some of you may remember.
Though it's gone over quite well locally, in the two years it's been around I've never been very good at marketing it anywhere else; I should say that's rather a weak point in my personality. But I've always wanted to sell it on a larger scale, and finally that has stopped being a dream and started looking like a reality!
I also plan to sell other books on my site, as fast as I can get them written and published....and maybe someday branch out into selling books for others. (Did that make any of you writers perk your ears? :) :)
Oh yes - one of those books I hope to publish in the near future is being written because I finally decided to take your advice. Remember all those stories I've written here at The Fruit of Her Hands, based on Bible characters? And remember how you told me I ought to try writing a book along those lines? Well....I'm trying it!
I've gotten stiff shoulders from hunching over my laptop for two days, but it's been great fun. I love designing things! I can't believe I own a website.
But it's more than that. Yes, it's cool to think that I've got a book with my name on the cover being sold on a real, live website....but it's not truly a huge deal. It doesn't matter that much to me - it's only a passing novelty. What really excites me is the thought that maybe, through this avenue, I'll be able to share my heart with more readers. You know that is what my writing is, don't you? It's my heart.
So this day is more than "exciting" and "cool." It's precious to my heart. It means I'm holding my breath, waiting to see if I'll contact any new friends through this venture. It means I'm praying for God to use ink and pieces of paper. Will you pray for that, too?
Oh yes - just in case you want to see the site .... (I told you I'm bad at advertising!):
Copy this code to your website to display this banner!
Blessings to all of you, ladies!
Friday, July 9, 2010
A Tale:
My life is a slow one.
Sometimes I go for hours without seeing anyone; 'specially at night. Humans seem to forget that even though they need sleep, I might get bored with no one to look at. It wouldn't be so bad if they'd leave the lights on while they sleep; at least then I could look at objects...but they have a funny thing of needing the darkness to sleep.
But even objects can get boring after awhile. I love it when the humans move the furniture around, so I have something new to look at. Even better is when they move me to a new wall. It matters so much what one has at one's back, you know? Some walls are all silky and shiny with a recent coat of paint; so smooth you'd hardly know they're there. Others have that awful textured stuff, and make you want to itch so bad. They poke you right in the worst spots. What's really bad is when you get the head of a screw prodding you in the back, making you hang crookedly, or distorting your appearance. You would think the humans would notice it faster than they do!
I don't think they notice me. You see, I get the strangest feeling when they stare at me. I don't think they're seeing me.
Take, for instance, when the girl stands in front of me. She looks right at me, and I know it's me she's looking at, because she's so close she can't be staring at anything else. She turns from side to side, then fluffs her hair with her ringed fingers. Sometimes, when no one else is in the room, she makes funny faces at me, fluttering her eyes, and talking...only she's not really talking. She's just moving her lips and pretending. If her brother is in the room, she always asks "does this shirt make me look fat?" He always gives her the same answer, no matter what she's wearing, so I don't know why she keeps asking.
When the lady of the house stands there, she stands much closer. She puts her face right up to me (her breath smells like peppermint), and tilts back and forth until the light hits her just right. Her left hand comes up to touch the crows eyes around her eyes gently, and she sighs. Then she briefly brushes her gray hairs away from her forehead and sighs again.
What do I care about her gray hair and wrinkles? What does it matter to me if the girl looks fat? What does it benefit me if the little people in the house give me those wet, icky fingerprints all over my nice shiny self, and laugh with delight?It might be nice if they were really talking to me, but they're not. They're not - I can tell!
They are looking right at me, but they don't see me. They see the sunlight, themselves, the room around them and behind them...not me.
I live a lonely life. Never noticed, never appreciated. All they see is what I reflect.
I once hung just outside the door of the bathroom, and my lady friend hung on the wall above the sink in there. When no one was around, we would talk to one another, to pass the time. She was the first of our kind I've met who didn't get depressed over our lonely fate.
"What does it matter if they never see us?" she asked. "Are we that important? We're showing them the truth about what they look like; how would they know, if it weren't for us?"
"Well, they aren't much to look at," I replied. It was an extra dark night, and I was feeling grumpy.
"Ah, you're right there. They aren't. ...But think about what we reflect the most of."
"What?"
"Oh, come on; you know. Light. We reflect more light than anything else!"
Just the mention of light made the night more comfortable. For you must know that, to our kind, nothing feels so good on our faces as light. It just warms you out to your framework, and makes you want to sing, and shout. I had been taught, before I even left the factory, that it was light bouncing off me that would enable the humans to see themselves - and everything else I showed.
"Isn't our existence worthwhile, even if all we ever did is reflect light?" my lady friend asked.
"You're right," I agreed, grumpiness banished by her cheery purposefulness. "It is not so bad to never been noticed; not when the light is hitting me."
She sent a friendly vibration through the wall, and we both settled down to wait for the morning...and the light.
Sometimes I go for hours without seeing anyone; 'specially at night. Humans seem to forget that even though they need sleep, I might get bored with no one to look at. It wouldn't be so bad if they'd leave the lights on while they sleep; at least then I could look at objects...but they have a funny thing of needing the darkness to sleep.
But even objects can get boring after awhile. I love it when the humans move the furniture around, so I have something new to look at. Even better is when they move me to a new wall. It matters so much what one has at one's back, you know? Some walls are all silky and shiny with a recent coat of paint; so smooth you'd hardly know they're there. Others have that awful textured stuff, and make you want to itch so bad. They poke you right in the worst spots. What's really bad is when you get the head of a screw prodding you in the back, making you hang crookedly, or distorting your appearance. You would think the humans would notice it faster than they do!
I don't think they notice me. You see, I get the strangest feeling when they stare at me. I don't think they're seeing me.
Take, for instance, when the girl stands in front of me. She looks right at me, and I know it's me she's looking at, because she's so close she can't be staring at anything else. She turns from side to side, then fluffs her hair with her ringed fingers. Sometimes, when no one else is in the room, she makes funny faces at me, fluttering her eyes, and talking...only she's not really talking. She's just moving her lips and pretending. If her brother is in the room, she always asks "does this shirt make me look fat?" He always gives her the same answer, no matter what she's wearing, so I don't know why she keeps asking.
When the lady of the house stands there, she stands much closer. She puts her face right up to me (her breath smells like peppermint), and tilts back and forth until the light hits her just right. Her left hand comes up to touch the crows eyes around her eyes gently, and she sighs. Then she briefly brushes her gray hairs away from her forehead and sighs again.
What do I care about her gray hair and wrinkles? What does it matter to me if the girl looks fat? What does it benefit me if the little people in the house give me those wet, icky fingerprints all over my nice shiny self, and laugh with delight?It might be nice if they were really talking to me, but they're not. They're not - I can tell!
They are looking right at me, but they don't see me. They see the sunlight, themselves, the room around them and behind them...not me.
I live a lonely life. Never noticed, never appreciated. All they see is what I reflect.
I once hung just outside the door of the bathroom, and my lady friend hung on the wall above the sink in there. When no one was around, we would talk to one another, to pass the time. She was the first of our kind I've met who didn't get depressed over our lonely fate.
"What does it matter if they never see us?" she asked. "Are we that important? We're showing them the truth about what they look like; how would they know, if it weren't for us?"
"Well, they aren't much to look at," I replied. It was an extra dark night, and I was feeling grumpy.
"Ah, you're right there. They aren't. ...But think about what we reflect the most of."
"What?"
"Oh, come on; you know. Light. We reflect more light than anything else!"
Just the mention of light made the night more comfortable. For you must know that, to our kind, nothing feels so good on our faces as light. It just warms you out to your framework, and makes you want to sing, and shout. I had been taught, before I even left the factory, that it was light bouncing off me that would enable the humans to see themselves - and everything else I showed.
"Isn't our existence worthwhile, even if all we ever did is reflect light?" my lady friend asked.
"You're right," I agreed, grumpiness banished by her cheery purposefulness. "It is not so bad to never been noticed; not when the light is hitting me."
She sent a friendly vibration through the wall, and we both settled down to wait for the morning...and the light.
Thursday, July 1, 2010
A video clip I really liked:
(I'm sorry it's so big; I couldn't figure out how to shrink the screen size.)
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Return of the Squash
Hello, everyone!
After temporarily abandoning my blog, I'm back with an almost-too-easy post, to ease myself back into the swing of things. I have been uploading 3-camera-cards-worth of pictures onto my computer in the past couple of days, and the desire to share some of those with you has overcome my reluctance to blog. :)
This post shall simply be a recipe; an Amber recipe - and you know I only share recipes I'm proud of! (Well.... ones that I'm proud of, or ones that have stories behind them, or ones that involve a funny flop...you know. :)
I really can't take full credit for this recipe, because my sister Heather gave me the idea. She, like many people I know, has yellow summer squash and zucchini overflowing in her kitchen, and was looking for new and yummy ways to fix it.
Now, normally, our family has two options for squash: boil it, or fry it - but Heather said her new in-laws bake it, with some butter and garlic powder on top. She added mozzarella cheese.
Those are all the details she gave me; really! From that bit of a yummy idea, I went home and came up with the following zucchini bake:
Amber's (with some help) Zucchini Bake
Ingredients:
~ Enough Zucchini to fill a food processor like the one below: (I think I used 3 zucchini the size of the one on the cutting board....or was it only 2? And yes, I KNOW you're not supposed to let the stuff get that big before you pick it, but it was hiding from us! You'd think it didn't want to be eaten! But that's the nice thing about this recipe - you can use the big zucchini that you forgot to pick in time, and it still tastes pretty good.)
The other ingredients are all pictured above as well:
~ 1/2 cup butter (1 stick)
~ Garlic Powder
~ Italian Dressing
~ Grated Parmesan Cheese
What? Oh - why there are no measurements for the last 3 ingredients?
...Come on. This is an Amber Recipe! :) :)
Slice the zucchini finely in the food processor, or chop thinly by hand. Unwrap the butter stick and use the butter paper to lightly grease a 9"x13" pan - it doesn't need to be heavily greased. Divide the zucchini into thirds, and spread one third in a layer on the bottom of the 9"x13" pan. Slice the butter stick as thinly as you can, and divide the slices into three piles as well. Sprinkle 1/3 of the butter slices over the zucchini in the pan. Sprinkle to taste (I like it generous!) with garlic powder (NOT garlic salt, by the way!). Take the lid off your Italian dressing, and "gloop" it on - again, to taste. I've found that a little goes a long way. Just 4 or 5 "gloops" per layer seems to do the trick.
Oh yes - one more squash idea, for those of you who prefer yellow squash over zucchini. Mom came up with this, and I LOVE it:
Squash spaghetti.
...Basically.
You just shred your yellow squash, add lots of meat and spaghetti sauce, bake 20 minutes at 350 degrees, and serve with grated Parmesan cheese on top. (Yes, we like our cheese!)
That's all I have for right now. Maybe there will be more pictures coming soon, on other topics.
Thanks for being so understanding about my blogging break; I needed it. I needed to confirm in my own mind that I blog because I like it and feel that it's good, not because I feel pressured to perform, or because I'm tied to this little grey keyboard and screen.
I hope y'all are having a blessed week.
P.S. I just realize I didn't rave about that zucchini recipe enough. You need to try it. There is no way to describe how good it smells as it bakes, and how tempting it is to just keep sneaking helping after helping of the cheesy, spicy goodness....
After temporarily abandoning my blog, I'm back with an almost-too-easy post, to ease myself back into the swing of things. I have been uploading 3-camera-cards-worth of pictures onto my computer in the past couple of days, and the desire to share some of those with you has overcome my reluctance to blog. :)
This post shall simply be a recipe; an Amber recipe - and you know I only share recipes I'm proud of! (Well.... ones that I'm proud of, or ones that have stories behind them, or ones that involve a funny flop...you know. :)
I really can't take full credit for this recipe, because my sister Heather gave me the idea. She, like many people I know, has yellow summer squash and zucchini overflowing in her kitchen, and was looking for new and yummy ways to fix it.
Now, normally, our family has two options for squash: boil it, or fry it - but Heather said her new in-laws bake it, with some butter and garlic powder on top. She added mozzarella cheese.
Those are all the details she gave me; really! From that bit of a yummy idea, I went home and came up with the following zucchini bake:
Amber's (with some help) Zucchini Bake
Ingredients:
~ Enough Zucchini to fill a food processor like the one below: (I think I used 3 zucchini the size of the one on the cutting board....or was it only 2? And yes, I KNOW you're not supposed to let the stuff get that big before you pick it, but it was hiding from us! You'd think it didn't want to be eaten! But that's the nice thing about this recipe - you can use the big zucchini that you forgot to pick in time, and it still tastes pretty good.)
The other ingredients are all pictured above as well:~ 1/2 cup butter (1 stick)
~ Garlic Powder
~ Italian Dressing
~ Grated Parmesan Cheese
What? Oh - why there are no measurements for the last 3 ingredients?
...Come on. This is an Amber Recipe! :) :)
Directions:
Slice the zucchini finely in the food processor, or chop thinly by hand. Unwrap the butter stick and use the butter paper to lightly grease a 9"x13" pan - it doesn't need to be heavily greased. Divide the zucchini into thirds, and spread one third in a layer on the bottom of the 9"x13" pan. Slice the butter stick as thinly as you can, and divide the slices into three piles as well. Sprinkle 1/3 of the butter slices over the zucchini in the pan. Sprinkle to taste (I like it generous!) with garlic powder (NOT garlic salt, by the way!). Take the lid off your Italian dressing, and "gloop" it on - again, to taste. I've found that a little goes a long way. Just 4 or 5 "gloops" per layer seems to do the trick.
Now sprinkle Parmesan on generously. Did you hear me? Generously. This is what makes this dish kick!
Repeat these layers, starting with the zucchini again, then butter, garlic powder, dressing, and cheese. Repeat once more, if desired, and according to the amount of zucchini you have. The last time I did this recipe, I used three layers - as I've directed in this recipe - and it filled the 9"x13" pan to overflowing, but the first time I made this we only had enough zucchini to do one layer on a cookie sheet. You be the judge. You should finish with cheese on top - again, a nice thick layer.
Bake for 20 minutes - or until the cheese is nicely brown and smells heavenly - at 350 degrees.
Repeat these layers, starting with the zucchini again, then butter, garlic powder, dressing, and cheese. Repeat once more, if desired, and according to the amount of zucchini you have. The last time I did this recipe, I used three layers - as I've directed in this recipe - and it filled the 9"x13" pan to overflowing, but the first time I made this we only had enough zucchini to do one layer on a cookie sheet. You be the judge. You should finish with cheese on top - again, a nice thick layer.
Bake for 20 minutes - or until the cheese is nicely brown and smells heavenly - at 350 degrees.
Oh yes - one more squash idea, for those of you who prefer yellow squash over zucchini. Mom came up with this, and I LOVE it:
Squash spaghetti....Basically.
You just shred your yellow squash, add lots of meat and spaghetti sauce, bake 20 minutes at 350 degrees, and serve with grated Parmesan cheese on top. (Yes, we like our cheese!)
That's all I have for right now. Maybe there will be more pictures coming soon, on other topics.
Thanks for being so understanding about my blogging break; I needed it. I needed to confirm in my own mind that I blog because I like it and feel that it's good, not because I feel pressured to perform, or because I'm tied to this little grey keyboard and screen.
I hope y'all are having a blessed week.
P.S. I just realize I didn't rave about that zucchini recipe enough. You need to try it. There is no way to describe how good it smells as it bakes, and how tempting it is to just keep sneaking helping after helping of the cheesy, spicy goodness....
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Hello
Do you ever go through phases in your life when you feel really private? I do.
When I'm in one of those moods, I change from being a chatterbox and outgoing to waiting to talk until someone talks to me first. I listen more. I cry more. I usually feel sorry for myself more. Yet even my thoughts are quieter. I feel almost like my brain is walking in its sleep, if that makes any sense. I have a hard time writing, because writing is, after all, a form of communication, and I don't feel like communicating.
Well, that's not totally honest. I do want to communicate - I just want everybody to know what I'm thinking, without me going through the bother of telling them. And, when they can't perform that marvelous feat, I roll my eyes and decided it's perfectly hopeless to tell them anything.
I feel like I don't have anything to say; anything to add to the conversation. When I do think of something, somebody else says it first. I feel like a turtle, pulled into my shell, watching the world go by through the narrow slit in front. I do an awful lot of observing and listening. Then I feel hurt because nobody notices that I'm watching them.
Honestly - it's a bizarre mood to be in.
Some of the time, I'm not a private person. Nope. Not. At. All.
I am the terror of my mother, who wonders why I feel the need to live my life before the world. (And who will no doubt wonder why I wrote that.) I try not to be; really. For her sake, if for no other reason. But I really don't mind people knowing what I'm thinking; what are thoughts for, if not to be shared? I dream of being interviewed by someone - anyone - and having folks all over the world reading or hearing what I said.
But not when I get into these moods. Right now, the mere thought of telling someone what's going on in my mind makes me mad. I'll talk when I'm good and ready, thank you very much. (Of course, once this mood wears off and I'm dying to talk to someone, you'd better ask me how I'm doing.) Writing is a pain, except in journals and other private spheres (WHY, oh why, did I have to fill up my very last blank journal last month????)
It's the perfect mood for editing my writing. I can easily delete whole chunks of paragraphs that in other moments I would cringe at taking out. (Of course, there's always the temptation to just get rid of the whole book, which isn't so great a side-effect of this mood.)
But as far as blogs go, this mood has a devastating affect. Quite crippling, if you know what I mean. The mere fact that I have taken the trouble to write a blog post explaining why-I'm-not-writing-a-blog-post is a huge miracle in and of itself. Of course, you are missing out on about 3 paragraphs which I removed from or thought of but never typed out in this post, but what you don't read won't hurt you.
By the way, if you feel like you've been reading blog posts like this for quite awhile (interspersed by a few "I'm so busy!" and "Just a quick note!" posts) here on The Fruit Of Her Hands....
....I'm afraid you're right.
The thing to do is not consider these as non-posts, but actual posts, because they do fill you in on what's happening in my life, right? Instead of sighing and wishing I would get around to writing something interesting, please look at these posts as a sign that I'm a lot like the average human girl; I struggle with things. I don't think I really believe in "mid-life crisis" or "teen crisis," or all those theories about predictable struggles, (what? Life - predictable??) but I do believe we go through patches of different kinds of path on our journey. Remember Christian in "Pilgrim's Progress"? He covered all sorts of territory, from the enchanted ground, to Giant Despair's Castle, to the valley of the shadow of death, to Mt. Zion. And my pathway is leading through a time when I don't feel the urge to do much blogging.
I've thought about giving up blogging - specially when I see other girls, whose blogs I read, doing it. ...And especially when I don't get a response from what I do write. But I can't bear to. I like it here.
I like you. ...Ruth Ann, ....Sarah, ...Hannah, ...Alethea Jordan, ...Julia, ...Lulu, ...Amanda, ...Jessi, ...Kathryn, ...Sarah Jane, ...Barbara, ...Jenny P., ...Anna, ...Melanie, ...... and several others. :)
You see? I'm not just eating air when I say I know who you are and I love knowing you through the Internet. You're a blessing to me.
So I just want to say hello. Hello, and I hope you're having a blessed day. Did you remember that yesterday was the first day of summer? Isn't that exciting?! I celebrated by cutting two sprigs from our Rose of Sharon bushes and putting them in a vase on my bed-side bookshelf. They have rose and purple blooms, and make the whole room lovelier.
When I'm in one of those moods, I change from being a chatterbox and outgoing to waiting to talk until someone talks to me first. I listen more. I cry more. I usually feel sorry for myself more. Yet even my thoughts are quieter. I feel almost like my brain is walking in its sleep, if that makes any sense. I have a hard time writing, because writing is, after all, a form of communication, and I don't feel like communicating.
Well, that's not totally honest. I do want to communicate - I just want everybody to know what I'm thinking, without me going through the bother of telling them. And, when they can't perform that marvelous feat, I roll my eyes and decided it's perfectly hopeless to tell them anything.
I feel like I don't have anything to say; anything to add to the conversation. When I do think of something, somebody else says it first. I feel like a turtle, pulled into my shell, watching the world go by through the narrow slit in front. I do an awful lot of observing and listening. Then I feel hurt because nobody notices that I'm watching them.
Honestly - it's a bizarre mood to be in.
Some of the time, I'm not a private person. Nope. Not. At. All.
I am the terror of my mother, who wonders why I feel the need to live my life before the world. (And who will no doubt wonder why I wrote that.) I try not to be; really. For her sake, if for no other reason. But I really don't mind people knowing what I'm thinking; what are thoughts for, if not to be shared? I dream of being interviewed by someone - anyone - and having folks all over the world reading or hearing what I said.
But not when I get into these moods. Right now, the mere thought of telling someone what's going on in my mind makes me mad. I'll talk when I'm good and ready, thank you very much. (Of course, once this mood wears off and I'm dying to talk to someone, you'd better ask me how I'm doing.) Writing is a pain, except in journals and other private spheres (WHY, oh why, did I have to fill up my very last blank journal last month????)
It's the perfect mood for editing my writing. I can easily delete whole chunks of paragraphs that in other moments I would cringe at taking out. (Of course, there's always the temptation to just get rid of the whole book, which isn't so great a side-effect of this mood.)
But as far as blogs go, this mood has a devastating affect. Quite crippling, if you know what I mean. The mere fact that I have taken the trouble to write a blog post explaining why-I'm-not-writing-a-blog-post is a huge miracle in and of itself. Of course, you are missing out on about 3 paragraphs which I removed from or thought of but never typed out in this post, but what you don't read won't hurt you.
By the way, if you feel like you've been reading blog posts like this for quite awhile (interspersed by a few "I'm so busy!" and "Just a quick note!" posts) here on The Fruit Of Her Hands....
....I'm afraid you're right.
The thing to do is not consider these as non-posts, but actual posts, because they do fill you in on what's happening in my life, right? Instead of sighing and wishing I would get around to writing something interesting, please look at these posts as a sign that I'm a lot like the average human girl; I struggle with things. I don't think I really believe in "mid-life crisis" or "teen crisis," or all those theories about predictable struggles, (what? Life - predictable??) but I do believe we go through patches of different kinds of path on our journey. Remember Christian in "Pilgrim's Progress"? He covered all sorts of territory, from the enchanted ground, to Giant Despair's Castle, to the valley of the shadow of death, to Mt. Zion. And my pathway is leading through a time when I don't feel the urge to do much blogging.
I've thought about giving up blogging - specially when I see other girls, whose blogs I read, doing it. ...And especially when I don't get a response from what I do write. But I can't bear to. I like it here.
I like you. ...Ruth Ann, ....Sarah, ...Hannah, ...Alethea Jordan, ...Julia, ...Lulu, ...Amanda, ...Jessi, ...Kathryn, ...Sarah Jane, ...Barbara, ...Jenny P., ...Anna, ...Melanie, ...... and several others. :)
You see? I'm not just eating air when I say I know who you are and I love knowing you through the Internet. You're a blessing to me.
So I just want to say hello. Hello, and I hope you're having a blessed day. Did you remember that yesterday was the first day of summer? Isn't that exciting?! I celebrated by cutting two sprigs from our Rose of Sharon bushes and putting them in a vase on my bed-side bookshelf. They have rose and purple blooms, and make the whole room lovelier.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Joyfully Yours
Last night I had the pleasure of attending a baby shower, and the devotion time centered around the topic of joy. The lady doing the devotional took her thought from the verse in Psalms that says God makes the barren woman to rejoice, and be a joyful mother of children.
Joyful.
It got me thinking. Through all the talk of being a joyful mother in the midst of crying children, messy houses, frantic schedules, moody days, and spilled coffee on your favorite tablecloth, I saw how this verse applied to me as a single girl.
It's not just this verse. Countless verses in the Bible tell me to be joyful: "Rejoice in the LORD always, and again I say rejoice." "Make a joyful noise unto the Lord." "Serve the Lord with gladness." But I like this verse because it talks about a mother being joyful, and everybody knows that a mother's life - though crowned with the blessing of children - is full of the normal drudgery of everyday life. She has bad days. She has lots of work to do. She has many burdens. And she's supposed to be joyful.
Oh boy, did I see room for preaching in that verse! The Holy Spirit was creating a nice little message out of it, and directing the whole thing right into the center of my heart:
"Look at you! You don't have all the burdens of motherhood, but you deal with some of these same things; you have dirty dishes to wash, and a busy schedule to keep, and younger people depending on you, and rooms to clean, and a tub to wash. And are you joyful? Yes, I know you smile sometimes, and you sing sometimes while you wash dishes, but are you spilling over with that radiant joy that only I can give? Does laughter bubble up? Do you laugh very often? Are your eyes sparkling with love and life? Do you see My hand in things that go wrong? Do you trust Me to work it all out for the best eventually? Why do I see so much stress in your life?"
Ah, Lord, what questions!
You know, I would love to be that young lady who bubbles over with joy. How attractive - and how stress-free! A joyful person is a beautiful person...and how happy a joyful person must make the Lord! They are reflecting how wonderful a walk with Jesus is.
And yet, as I confessed to a friend once, "I feel like somebody needs to stress. I get worried if no one is stressing over things, so I it." Do you every feel that way? You'd like to be that storybook character who brings sunshine into every one's life.....but, hey, come on! real life is here. You have to worry about some things...right? How else will it all get done?
And so we are pressured to stay uptight. Don't relax completely. What? Trust God so much that you don't worry about anything? It's just not natural to be happy all the time. That's not allowed. It's... weird.
Last night I realized - again, and yet for the first time - that it's okay to be joyful. Really. So what if it's not natural, and so what if it feels scary to open my hands and let go? It's okay.
Really.
Go ahead. You know you want to. Laugh. Really hard. Sit still for a moment, in front of your computer screen....close your eyes, and let the tension melt away from your temples and forehead.
You didn't do it, did you? I'm serious. Do it.
Now open your eyes and smile. Really smile, a great big grin. Find someone nearby to turn to and let your eyes sparkle at them. Now laugh, a great big hearty laugh.
Doesn't it feel good? :) :) :) :)
Joyful.
It got me thinking. Through all the talk of being a joyful mother in the midst of crying children, messy houses, frantic schedules, moody days, and spilled coffee on your favorite tablecloth, I saw how this verse applied to me as a single girl.
It's not just this verse. Countless verses in the Bible tell me to be joyful: "Rejoice in the LORD always, and again I say rejoice." "Make a joyful noise unto the Lord." "Serve the Lord with gladness." But I like this verse because it talks about a mother being joyful, and everybody knows that a mother's life - though crowned with the blessing of children - is full of the normal drudgery of everyday life. She has bad days. She has lots of work to do. She has many burdens. And she's supposed to be joyful.
Oh boy, did I see room for preaching in that verse! The Holy Spirit was creating a nice little message out of it, and directing the whole thing right into the center of my heart:
"Look at you! You don't have all the burdens of motherhood, but you deal with some of these same things; you have dirty dishes to wash, and a busy schedule to keep, and younger people depending on you, and rooms to clean, and a tub to wash. And are you joyful? Yes, I know you smile sometimes, and you sing sometimes while you wash dishes, but are you spilling over with that radiant joy that only I can give? Does laughter bubble up? Do you laugh very often? Are your eyes sparkling with love and life? Do you see My hand in things that go wrong? Do you trust Me to work it all out for the best eventually? Why do I see so much stress in your life?"
Ah, Lord, what questions!
You know, I would love to be that young lady who bubbles over with joy. How attractive - and how stress-free! A joyful person is a beautiful person...and how happy a joyful person must make the Lord! They are reflecting how wonderful a walk with Jesus is.
And yet, as I confessed to a friend once, "I feel like somebody needs to stress. I get worried if no one is stressing over things, so I it." Do you every feel that way? You'd like to be that storybook character who brings sunshine into every one's life.....but, hey, come on! real life is here. You have to worry about some things...right? How else will it all get done?
And so we are pressured to stay uptight. Don't relax completely. What? Trust God so much that you don't worry about anything? It's just not natural to be happy all the time. That's not allowed. It's... weird.
Last night I realized - again, and yet for the first time - that it's okay to be joyful. Really. So what if it's not natural, and so what if it feels scary to open my hands and let go? It's okay.
Really.
Go ahead. You know you want to. Laugh. Really hard. Sit still for a moment, in front of your computer screen....close your eyes, and let the tension melt away from your temples and forehead.
You didn't do it, did you? I'm serious. Do it.
Now open your eyes and smile. Really smile, a great big grin. Find someone nearby to turn to and let your eyes sparkle at them. Now laugh, a great big hearty laugh.
Doesn't it feel good? :) :) :) :)
Thursday, June 3, 2010
May we broach the subject one more time?
As a sequel to my last post, in regards to taking care of long hair, and coming up with new things to do with it, I thought I'd share a website that I have enjoyed browsing the past few months:
Rapunzel's Resource
It's an all-around great site for style ideas, for ladies with long hair.
....And, as I was doing a wee bit of browsing this morning, I stumbled across this site. I have not looked around much yet, so I don't know how good everything is, but the name caught my attention:
Long Hair Lovers
I also thought I'd list a few styles that I find myself using on a day-to-day basis. Sorry I don't have pictures! Wish I did. If you don't know what a particular style is, ask me, and I'll try to explain more - maybe even take a picture!
- The classic half-up, half-down (as Heather and I call it), with a clip or ponytail holder holding back the top and sides of my hair from my face. This is super easy, so I use it often, and it looks good on most people, but to be honest, I can't stand the way it looks on me. This is the style I was wearing the day I wrote my "rant." :)
- Simple ponytail. Oh - wait. I was going to list the styles I use everyday. Definitely not this one. My hair's too heavy to put hanging all in one spot like that.
- My old stand-by "twist into a bun and secure with three mini claw clips." I do this one all the time, and it's great for when I get out of the shower. Most of the time I don't make a true, smooth bun; I leave the curly ends loose, sticking around the edges of the bun. I like it.
- Flip-through ponytail. I do this one, because I love the way it looks, but often the hair that's hanging out gets too poofy, so I use it as a base for my next style:
- Flip-through bun. I wish I had a picture for this, because I love how it looks dressy but is super easy! It always makes me feel like I've done something extra special to my hair on a normal day. Just make the flip-through ponytail, and then tuck the hair that hangs down back into the hole where you made the flip. I've done variations; sometimes I let the ends hang back down through the hole, which makes people have a heart-attack, because at first glance from the front it looks like I cut my hair. :) Or I'll let the ends stick upright, spilling out of the "hole," all curly and pretty (unless they stick straight up!). Or I'll do a fold, with everything tucked in smooth, and no ends showing. Totally well explained, right?
- Hair parted in the center, and braided down the back in one braid. Usually a normal braid, sometimes a fish (or "herringbone") braid.
- Hair parted and braided on the side in two braids - normal or french. Usually normal, since it's faster and I'm not sure I like my face in french braids. Sad, because I love french braids themselves.
- Three-part bun. Another standby for fast-but-looks-like-I-spent-a-lot-of-time-on-it. Remember that "half-up, half-down" style that I don't like? I do that, but make that top section that's pulled back into a bun. Then I divide the rest of my hair in half, and twist each half around the bun, one at a time, using bobby pins to secure. It looks complicated and sophisticated, but doesn't take long. This is another style I wish I had pictures for. I made it up, too!!!! If I have a little more time, I'll braid the pieces before I loop them into the bun, (three braids total), and it looks like I have a mass of braided coils on my hair. (That's meant to be a flattering description of the style, just in case there's any doubt. :)
I'm sure there's a few more styles I use on a regular basis, but it's not too exciting to tell you about styles without pictures, so I'll end for now. Besides, I have to go teach a sewing lesson. Then I'm going riding. Should be fun!
Blessings on your day!
Rapunzel's Resource
It's an all-around great site for style ideas, for ladies with long hair.
....And, as I was doing a wee bit of browsing this morning, I stumbled across this site. I have not looked around much yet, so I don't know how good everything is, but the name caught my attention:
Long Hair Lovers
I also thought I'd list a few styles that I find myself using on a day-to-day basis. Sorry I don't have pictures! Wish I did. If you don't know what a particular style is, ask me, and I'll try to explain more - maybe even take a picture!
- The classic half-up, half-down (as Heather and I call it), with a clip or ponytail holder holding back the top and sides of my hair from my face. This is super easy, so I use it often, and it looks good on most people, but to be honest, I can't stand the way it looks on me. This is the style I was wearing the day I wrote my "rant." :)
- Simple ponytail. Oh - wait. I was going to list the styles I use everyday. Definitely not this one. My hair's too heavy to put hanging all in one spot like that.
- My old stand-by "twist into a bun and secure with three mini claw clips." I do this one all the time, and it's great for when I get out of the shower. Most of the time I don't make a true, smooth bun; I leave the curly ends loose, sticking around the edges of the bun. I like it.
- Flip-through ponytail. I do this one, because I love the way it looks, but often the hair that's hanging out gets too poofy, so I use it as a base for my next style:
- Flip-through bun. I wish I had a picture for this, because I love how it looks dressy but is super easy! It always makes me feel like I've done something extra special to my hair on a normal day. Just make the flip-through ponytail, and then tuck the hair that hangs down back into the hole where you made the flip. I've done variations; sometimes I let the ends hang back down through the hole, which makes people have a heart-attack, because at first glance from the front it looks like I cut my hair. :) Or I'll let the ends stick upright, spilling out of the "hole," all curly and pretty (unless they stick straight up!). Or I'll do a fold, with everything tucked in smooth, and no ends showing. Totally well explained, right?
- Hair parted in the center, and braided down the back in one braid. Usually a normal braid, sometimes a fish (or "herringbone") braid.
- Hair parted and braided on the side in two braids - normal or french. Usually normal, since it's faster and I'm not sure I like my face in french braids. Sad, because I love french braids themselves.
- Three-part bun. Another standby for fast-but-looks-like-I-spent-a-lot-of-time-on-it. Remember that "half-up, half-down" style that I don't like? I do that, but make that top section that's pulled back into a bun. Then I divide the rest of my hair in half, and twist each half around the bun, one at a time, using bobby pins to secure. It looks complicated and sophisticated, but doesn't take long. This is another style I wish I had pictures for. I made it up, too!!!! If I have a little more time, I'll braid the pieces before I loop them into the bun, (three braids total), and it looks like I have a mass of braided coils on my hair. (That's meant to be a flattering description of the style, just in case there's any doubt. :)
I'm sure there's a few more styles I use on a regular basis, but it's not too exciting to tell you about styles without pictures, so I'll end for now. Besides, I have to go teach a sewing lesson. Then I'm going riding. Should be fun!
Blessings on your day!
Monday, May 31, 2010
Oh that stuff.
Sigh.
I think I know one reason why if "a woman has long hair it is a glory to her." Credit is due any woman who can figure out how to take care of the stuff! Sometimes I just don't know what to do with my hair. Can any of you relate?
And I just trimmed it two days ago. It's not like I'm going to cut it much shorter. I think my trouble has something to do with the fact that my hair is curly. If I brush it, it's frizz. And if I don't brush it, it looks messy. What to do? I can't stand wearing it up constantly, because it gives me serious headaches. And if I wear it down it gets in my way.
I'm known at church and among my other circles of friends for "always showing up with a new hairstyle." I don't know how many people have commented on my "creativity" and "variety" that I use on my hair, but it's a lot. I love to braid, twist, pin, and do all those sorts of things that create new looks. The trouble is, I get bored with one look quickly, and so does my hair. What works one week looks bad the next. And it frustrates me that, though I have many of my "own" styles, I can't reproduce the looks all my straight-smooth-bouncy-perfect-haired friends have all the time.
I don't truly want to cut my hair short, for many reasons. I believe a woman ought to have hair that looks like woman's hair, plus all my family members like my hair long. And I know that wearing my hair long makes me feel more feminine. But every so often I get fed up with having hair.
Okay, now I'm laughing at myself. It sounds so silly, to write it out, but that's the way I feel!
Well...maybe not. I'd love having hair if it would just behave. It gets worse when I look at pictures of other women, who have perfect hair. "Why won't mine do that?"
Well, as Mom would say, it's just a stage. I guess every girl goes through those cycles of hating and loving her hair. And I think that resisting the temptation to get a short, boyish cut, which would be much easier to take care of, is one reason why long hair is a glory to a woman; it's a sign that she can resist temptation. :)
This has got to be one of the most frivolous posts I've written in awhile, but what good is a blog if I can't rant here sometimes? Yet I do feel exposed, realizing that I've publicly admitted that I actually think about such earthly things as the way my hair looks. :) :) :) :) Next thing you know, I'll be admitting that I have 15 pairs of shoes. Not, you understand, that such a thing is possible.....
(....did I just say that?...)
I think I know one reason why if "a woman has long hair it is a glory to her." Credit is due any woman who can figure out how to take care of the stuff! Sometimes I just don't know what to do with my hair. Can any of you relate?
And I just trimmed it two days ago. It's not like I'm going to cut it much shorter. I think my trouble has something to do with the fact that my hair is curly. If I brush it, it's frizz. And if I don't brush it, it looks messy. What to do? I can't stand wearing it up constantly, because it gives me serious headaches. And if I wear it down it gets in my way.
I'm known at church and among my other circles of friends for "always showing up with a new hairstyle." I don't know how many people have commented on my "creativity" and "variety" that I use on my hair, but it's a lot. I love to braid, twist, pin, and do all those sorts of things that create new looks. The trouble is, I get bored with one look quickly, and so does my hair. What works one week looks bad the next. And it frustrates me that, though I have many of my "own" styles, I can't reproduce the looks all my straight-smooth-bouncy-perfect-haired friends have all the time.
I don't truly want to cut my hair short, for many reasons. I believe a woman ought to have hair that looks like woman's hair, plus all my family members like my hair long. And I know that wearing my hair long makes me feel more feminine. But every so often I get fed up with having hair.
Okay, now I'm laughing at myself. It sounds so silly, to write it out, but that's the way I feel!
Well...maybe not. I'd love having hair if it would just behave. It gets worse when I look at pictures of other women, who have perfect hair. "Why won't mine do that?"
Well, as Mom would say, it's just a stage. I guess every girl goes through those cycles of hating and loving her hair. And I think that resisting the temptation to get a short, boyish cut, which would be much easier to take care of, is one reason why long hair is a glory to a woman; it's a sign that she can resist temptation. :)
This has got to be one of the most frivolous posts I've written in awhile, but what good is a blog if I can't rant here sometimes? Yet I do feel exposed, realizing that I've publicly admitted that I actually think about such earthly things as the way my hair looks. :) :) :) :) Next thing you know, I'll be admitting that I have 15 pairs of shoes. Not, you understand, that such a thing is possible.....
(....did I just say that?...)
Tidbits.....
Wedding pictures arrived this week.....
...but of course I can't share all of them at once. :)
...However, I can share this pre-wedding picture, from when I was working on the bridesmaid dresses:
...but of course I can't share all of them at once. :)...However, I can share this pre-wedding picture, from when I was working on the bridesmaid dresses:
That blue silk was so rich to work with!Remember all the talking I've been doing about my new bedroom? I built a new bedstead to go in it, with some help from my brother, Curtis. This was the half-way stage: everything cut, but not painted or put together. The headboard, which is a different color from everything else, is my Mom's, from when she was a little girl. I added on to it to make my bed. I'll share "finished" pictures of the bed later. :)
And guess what I found at the Flea Market last week? A pasta machine; for THREE DOLLARS! I tried it out this week, and had SUCH a blast. Tiffany helped me; it takes four hands to work, because the clamp which holds it to the table is missing. Other than that, it's in great shape.
The spaghetti was delicious! My younger brother Justin said "Wow - that's freaky...it's, like, real." (This remark I'm afraid was well-earned, by my previous attempts at pasta-making, which turned out noodles which tasted fine, but looked anything like "real" noodles. :)
And...I don't have a picture to go with this bit of news, but we got chickens today! Two of them. It's a small start to the flock we hope to have eventually. They're very cute and friendly.
And...I don't have a picture to go with this bit of news, but we got chickens today! Two of them. It's a small start to the flock we hope to have eventually. They're very cute and friendly.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Someday....my prince will come?
Tonight I was thinking about my (Lord willing) future husband.
That came up in my thoughts because I was thinking about how wonderful it is to see men with character; men who are passionate about serving God, men who care about lost souls, men who are strong in spirit, men who speak truth, men who are kind, men who are courteous, men who are creative, men who are joyful, men who are prayer warriors, men who are hard workers, men who are unselfish, men who are leaders, men who know what their purpose in life is, and men who are devoted and patient. Men like that are....well, one in a thousand. You may find a man who is one of these - or two or three or four of these things - but to find a man with all of these qualities (and many more good ones which I haven't time to mention) is rare indeed.
I was praying while I thought, to be quite honest. It came to my mind, as it has many times, how blessed I would be to have a husband like this. And how impossible it would be to find a man like this, if the task were mine. I blush to admit it, but I even find myself thinking of it as an impossible task for my Heavenly Father, sometimes. Yet I asked the Lord to give me a man like this, since in my saner moments I know He is quite capable of it.
"Find me one like this," indeed! Why, God will not only have to find the man, but make him. Such a godly man does not happen by accident. I would think that the molding of a man of such character would be a much more difficult task (if such words can be applied to God) than merely leading a man and woman together.
I sat there, daydreaming about what it would be like to meet a man who is so in love with God that he is....well, ideal. Always patient. Sure of his mission in life. Humble, yet bold. Kind, yet a leader. Handsome, of course. And able to do just about anything.
It was then I began rebuking myself. "Don't aim for the stars, Amber. Be practical. Remember, you're going to marry a sinner. He's a human, like you. He's a fallen creature. Come on; don't expect perfection! Expect a godly man, yes, but not a perfect one." I've been warned against this so many times. He'd be marrying me, after all; ME! We've gotta have some things, at least, in common. Why would I expect a perfect saint to marry a flawed sinner? Am I expecting him to put up with weakness in my life, while I'm not expecting to have to put up with any flaws in his? That doesn't sound fair at all.
"Okay. So I'll list the things that I'm willing to 'put up with' in a husband. A list of faults that I can 'tolerate.' He can 'be this,' and I'll be okay with it." (Can you believe I was having this conversation with myself?)
I sat there.
And sat there.
And sat there.
With an empty list. I couldn't think of one single "small fault" (I didn't want to call them "sins") that I'd be willing to tolerate in a husband.
Would I be okay with him being a bit impatient? No, that'd be too wearing on the atmosphere of our home.
Would it be fine if he was not a super strong leader? Nah, I need someone to depend on.
How 'bout if he doesn't always give me all the attention I feel I need? Oh no, not that one!
Hmm...What if he's weak in personal discipline? No, no, no. That would be terrible. It would drive me crazy.
What if his prayer life is weak? That wouldn't work at all. Prayer warriors make strong Christians, and I want a strong Christian!
What if he's hit-and-miss with personal devotions and time with the Lord?... Are you kidding? Of course he must be strong in that area!
What if he is lazy? ...Shivers.... Please, no.
Item after item, and not one made it onto my list. There was not a single weakness that I wanted to find in a husband. Of course, I know he'll have weaknesses. That's just life. And I know I will learn to love him anyway, and be a true help meet, suitable for him, and hopefully I'll encourage him in his spiritual life, and he'll do the same for me.
But all this listing made me wonder....
...What weaknesses would he be willing to tolerate in me? What faults would he "be fine with" in his wife?
Uh...none. I'm positive a man looking for a wife is no different than a woman hoping for a husband; they both want as-near-to-perfect-as-possible mates. And why shouldn't they feel that way?
The problem came when I started checking myself against that "perfection list" that I had come up with and, one after another, I started coming up with faults that my husband probably have to put up with in me, unless I improve dramatically between now and the time I marry.
Why don't my own faults bug me as much as the ones he might have? Don't I know that he wants a godly wife, just like I want a godly husband? What am I doing towards that end? Do I spend enough time being concerned about my character, my faults, getting my own self right with God, and forming habits that tend toward godly character?
Probably not.
But I'm not married yet. There's hope. ...But you know what? My family has to live with me here and now. Other people have to deal with my faults here and now.
You know, I think most of us think about that rosy "someday when I'm married" much more than we admit. I know I do. And even though many of us are a little embarrassed to say, when someone interrupts our thinking, that we were daydreaming about our future husbands, families, and homes, there's really nothing wrong with thinking about it. I think that's an instinct God put inside us, as women. It's a perfectly natural thing to do. But the Holy Spirit reminded me tonight that I need to think about both sides of the coin, and I guess the whole point of this post is just a desire to pass that reminder on to you.
You are not going to magically change into a different person someday. What you do with your time now has an awful lot of impact on the kind of wife you're going to be. The books you read, the things you watch, the friends you make, the things you do with your free time; all of these have long-lasting effects. Don't fall into the trap of thinking "well, I'm young, so I can do it and it doesn't matter." Being young doesn't have to equal being immature, wasteful, lazy, or other useless things. In fact, our youth is incredibly valuable. We are charged in the scriptures to remember our Creator in the days of our youth, and to seek Him while we are young.
Let's do that.
Our future husbands will thank us someday.
That came up in my thoughts because I was thinking about how wonderful it is to see men with character; men who are passionate about serving God, men who care about lost souls, men who are strong in spirit, men who speak truth, men who are kind, men who are courteous, men who are creative, men who are joyful, men who are prayer warriors, men who are hard workers, men who are unselfish, men who are leaders, men who know what their purpose in life is, and men who are devoted and patient. Men like that are....well, one in a thousand. You may find a man who is one of these - or two or three or four of these things - but to find a man with all of these qualities (and many more good ones which I haven't time to mention) is rare indeed.
I was praying while I thought, to be quite honest. It came to my mind, as it has many times, how blessed I would be to have a husband like this. And how impossible it would be to find a man like this, if the task were mine. I blush to admit it, but I even find myself thinking of it as an impossible task for my Heavenly Father, sometimes. Yet I asked the Lord to give me a man like this, since in my saner moments I know He is quite capable of it.
"Find me one like this," indeed! Why, God will not only have to find the man, but make him. Such a godly man does not happen by accident. I would think that the molding of a man of such character would be a much more difficult task (if such words can be applied to God) than merely leading a man and woman together.
I sat there, daydreaming about what it would be like to meet a man who is so in love with God that he is....well, ideal. Always patient. Sure of his mission in life. Humble, yet bold. Kind, yet a leader. Handsome, of course. And able to do just about anything.
It was then I began rebuking myself. "Don't aim for the stars, Amber. Be practical. Remember, you're going to marry a sinner. He's a human, like you. He's a fallen creature. Come on; don't expect perfection! Expect a godly man, yes, but not a perfect one." I've been warned against this so many times. He'd be marrying me, after all; ME! We've gotta have some things, at least, in common. Why would I expect a perfect saint to marry a flawed sinner? Am I expecting him to put up with weakness in my life, while I'm not expecting to have to put up with any flaws in his? That doesn't sound fair at all.
"Okay. So I'll list the things that I'm willing to 'put up with' in a husband. A list of faults that I can 'tolerate.' He can 'be this,' and I'll be okay with it." (Can you believe I was having this conversation with myself?)
I sat there.
And sat there.
And sat there.
With an empty list. I couldn't think of one single "small fault" (I didn't want to call them "sins") that I'd be willing to tolerate in a husband.
Would I be okay with him being a bit impatient? No, that'd be too wearing on the atmosphere of our home.
Would it be fine if he was not a super strong leader? Nah, I need someone to depend on.
How 'bout if he doesn't always give me all the attention I feel I need? Oh no, not that one!
Hmm...What if he's weak in personal discipline? No, no, no. That would be terrible. It would drive me crazy.
What if his prayer life is weak? That wouldn't work at all. Prayer warriors make strong Christians, and I want a strong Christian!
What if he's hit-and-miss with personal devotions and time with the Lord?... Are you kidding? Of course he must be strong in that area!
What if he is lazy? ...Shivers.... Please, no.
Item after item, and not one made it onto my list. There was not a single weakness that I wanted to find in a husband. Of course, I know he'll have weaknesses. That's just life. And I know I will learn to love him anyway, and be a true help meet, suitable for him, and hopefully I'll encourage him in his spiritual life, and he'll do the same for me.
But all this listing made me wonder....
...What weaknesses would he be willing to tolerate in me? What faults would he "be fine with" in his wife?
Uh...none. I'm positive a man looking for a wife is no different than a woman hoping for a husband; they both want as-near-to-perfect-as-possible mates. And why shouldn't they feel that way?
The problem came when I started checking myself against that "perfection list" that I had come up with and, one after another, I started coming up with faults that my husband probably have to put up with in me, unless I improve dramatically between now and the time I marry.
Why don't my own faults bug me as much as the ones he might have? Don't I know that he wants a godly wife, just like I want a godly husband? What am I doing towards that end? Do I spend enough time being concerned about my character, my faults, getting my own self right with God, and forming habits that tend toward godly character?
Probably not.
But I'm not married yet. There's hope. ...But you know what? My family has to live with me here and now. Other people have to deal with my faults here and now.
You know, I think most of us think about that rosy "someday when I'm married" much more than we admit. I know I do. And even though many of us are a little embarrassed to say, when someone interrupts our thinking, that we were daydreaming about our future husbands, families, and homes, there's really nothing wrong with thinking about it. I think that's an instinct God put inside us, as women. It's a perfectly natural thing to do. But the Holy Spirit reminded me tonight that I need to think about both sides of the coin, and I guess the whole point of this post is just a desire to pass that reminder on to you.
You are not going to magically change into a different person someday. What you do with your time now has an awful lot of impact on the kind of wife you're going to be. The books you read, the things you watch, the friends you make, the things you do with your free time; all of these have long-lasting effects. Don't fall into the trap of thinking "well, I'm young, so I can do it and it doesn't matter." Being young doesn't have to equal being immature, wasteful, lazy, or other useless things. In fact, our youth is incredibly valuable. We are charged in the scriptures to remember our Creator in the days of our youth, and to seek Him while we are young.
Let's do that.
Our future husbands will thank us someday.
Monday, May 17, 2010
Tonight
I'm finally going to sleep in my new bedroom!
It's quiet in here, and it's odd to be able to keep the lamp on without worrying about keeping anyone else awake who wants to go to bed early. It's odd to be able to talk aloud and know that no one overhears me. (Well, unless they're standing in the hallway, in line for the bathroom.)
My new mattress is oh-so-comfortable, and I can't wait to assemble my new bedstead tomorrow and see it in my room instead of the basement. It's not really completely new; I (with lots of help from Curtis and Dad) made it from 2x4s, 2x2s, and the headboard Mom used when she was a little girl. Once my bed is all put together, I'll just have to build 3 more shelves, sew two curtains, and pick up and organize my clutter; then my new room should be done. It will be nice to not have a 3-foot long To Do list that centers around my room. I love interior design, but I do have a life to lead that concerns other, more important, things!
I just came from my younger sisters' bedroom. I was comforting them because they were feeling lonely. I walked the fine line of encouraging them, while not making myself teary-eyed. Heartache is still so close; just a arm's reach away, if I were to reach out and pull it in. But I don't want to. I want to "let go and trust God," as the saying goes. I feel as if I've been on a long journey during the past month. So much has happened inside my heart.
Have you ever tried to keep a journal? I have several journals, and I consider myself fairly good at keeping up with them, but it wasn't always so. I remember trying to keep a journal when I was little, and I was under the mistaken impression that some unwritten rule exists that says if you are going to keep a journal, you must write in it every single day of your existence. If I missed a day...or two....or three....I felt compelled to go back and write about each one before I could continue on; but before I had caught up, I had missed yet another day, which set me back even farther. Before long, I had so many days to catch up on that it overwhelmed me and I just gave up journaling....until the next time I spotted a cute journal in the Dollar Store.
That's exactly the way I feel now; there's so much to catch you up on, and yet if I take the time to go back and fill you in on every little thing that has happened, I won't get to tell you about now...today. The things that filled my heart on Sunday will be cold and stale by the time I get around to writing about them. The little jokes that happened around the supper table two nights ago will be gone from my memory by the time I get to writing about that day.
What I'd love to do is write a veeeeery long post, to catch you up to present-day, and then continue on very orderly. I love order. But sometimes order isn't very practical.
Like now. If I insist on catching you up on all the yesterdays, I'll never write about the todays.
But you must hear about the yesterdays. They were so full. So amazing.
I've been holding myself in, lately. I haven't written about what's going on now because I haven't finished telling you about what happened then. I still have wedding pictures to post! And I still must tell you all about the week following the wedding. But by trying to "catch up" before I write about the "here and now," I'm missing out on telling you all sorts of fabulous things.
So I think I'm going to give up. I'm just gonna write what's on my heart, and in-between I'll post pictures and memories of Heather and Eugene's wedding. Those pictures and memories aren't going anywhere; the memories are too strong, and the pictures are stored on my computer.
I feel better, having written this post. I've written too many posts, lately, that promise "wedding talk coming soon!" when what I wanted to write was "guess what I thought of in church this Sunday?" and "guess what's happening in the garden this week?" and "look at this cool idea!" My life is starting to get back to normal, but my blog is stuck in journal-catch-up land.
No longer. From now on, I'll just forget about proper order and write what I feel like writing. I'll still get those pictures and wedding stories up here sometime, but I'm not gonna swallow perfectly good blog posts because they "haven't happened yet." It isn't fair to you, and it's bothersome to me.
Anyway. It's getting late here, and I must be up early tomorrow. That's the story of my life, lately: no time for computer; must be up early tomorrow! Ah, well, I've been getting a lot done! Wonderful days of business.
Can't wait to tell you all about it.
It's quiet in here, and it's odd to be able to keep the lamp on without worrying about keeping anyone else awake who wants to go to bed early. It's odd to be able to talk aloud and know that no one overhears me. (Well, unless they're standing in the hallway, in line for the bathroom.)
My new mattress is oh-so-comfortable, and I can't wait to assemble my new bedstead tomorrow and see it in my room instead of the basement. It's not really completely new; I (with lots of help from Curtis and Dad) made it from 2x4s, 2x2s, and the headboard Mom used when she was a little girl. Once my bed is all put together, I'll just have to build 3 more shelves, sew two curtains, and pick up and organize my clutter; then my new room should be done. It will be nice to not have a 3-foot long To Do list that centers around my room. I love interior design, but I do have a life to lead that concerns other, more important, things!
I just came from my younger sisters' bedroom. I was comforting them because they were feeling lonely. I walked the fine line of encouraging them, while not making myself teary-eyed. Heartache is still so close; just a arm's reach away, if I were to reach out and pull it in. But I don't want to. I want to "let go and trust God," as the saying goes. I feel as if I've been on a long journey during the past month. So much has happened inside my heart.
Have you ever tried to keep a journal? I have several journals, and I consider myself fairly good at keeping up with them, but it wasn't always so. I remember trying to keep a journal when I was little, and I was under the mistaken impression that some unwritten rule exists that says if you are going to keep a journal, you must write in it every single day of your existence. If I missed a day...or two....or three....I felt compelled to go back and write about each one before I could continue on; but before I had caught up, I had missed yet another day, which set me back even farther. Before long, I had so many days to catch up on that it overwhelmed me and I just gave up journaling....until the next time I spotted a cute journal in the Dollar Store.
That's exactly the way I feel now; there's so much to catch you up on, and yet if I take the time to go back and fill you in on every little thing that has happened, I won't get to tell you about now...today. The things that filled my heart on Sunday will be cold and stale by the time I get around to writing about them. The little jokes that happened around the supper table two nights ago will be gone from my memory by the time I get to writing about that day.
What I'd love to do is write a veeeeery long post, to catch you up to present-day, and then continue on very orderly. I love order. But sometimes order isn't very practical.
Like now. If I insist on catching you up on all the yesterdays, I'll never write about the todays.
But you must hear about the yesterdays. They were so full. So amazing.
I've been holding myself in, lately. I haven't written about what's going on now because I haven't finished telling you about what happened then. I still have wedding pictures to post! And I still must tell you all about the week following the wedding. But by trying to "catch up" before I write about the "here and now," I'm missing out on telling you all sorts of fabulous things.
So I think I'm going to give up. I'm just gonna write what's on my heart, and in-between I'll post pictures and memories of Heather and Eugene's wedding. Those pictures and memories aren't going anywhere; the memories are too strong, and the pictures are stored on my computer.
I feel better, having written this post. I've written too many posts, lately, that promise "wedding talk coming soon!" when what I wanted to write was "guess what I thought of in church this Sunday?" and "guess what's happening in the garden this week?" and "look at this cool idea!" My life is starting to get back to normal, but my blog is stuck in journal-catch-up land.
No longer. From now on, I'll just forget about proper order and write what I feel like writing. I'll still get those pictures and wedding stories up here sometime, but I'm not gonna swallow perfectly good blog posts because they "haven't happened yet." It isn't fair to you, and it's bothersome to me.
Anyway. It's getting late here, and I must be up early tomorrow. That's the story of my life, lately: no time for computer; must be up early tomorrow! Ah, well, I've been getting a lot done! Wonderful days of business.
Can't wait to tell you all about it.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Ways to tell I've been busy:
- When my laptop lid has to have dust blown and wiped off before I open it.
- When my email inbox has 75 unread messages.
- When I have to schedule time to get a shower.
- When I haven't written so much as a single letter in 7 days, anywhere; journal, email, snail mail, blog, story-writing. ....(well, does my check registry count as writing?)
- When I haven't sewn a stitch in an even longer amount of time.
So what have I been doing that has kept me so busy?
Putting life back together!
It's good timing, really. I was feeling a little sad, missing Heather since she's been married, and having other things to think about is nice. Hard work has a tendency to make me happy, and I certainly have felt worked when I've fallen into bed each night this week. My biggest project has been creating my own bedroom out of the little bedroom that my younger sisters used to share. They're now living in my and Heather's old room, and I'll be getting their bedroom. I spent about 2 days getting the room clean up and then painted, with the windows and floors also scrubbed. Then I have been spending the rest of the week creating my own little slice of peace.
It's a new thing, for me to have my own room. I hardly know what to think, in a way...and yet it seems very natural. I have always had an itch for interior design, and this is the first time I've had a project to do in that field. I'm letting my creative self go - and I'm taking lots of pictures to share! ....After I share wedding pictures, that is. ;) So much to catch y'all up on!!!!!
I'm hoping to get the room nearly done by Friday. It would be a nice gift. ....For my birthday.
Yup. On Friday I celebrate another year. God is so good to me!
- When my email inbox has 75 unread messages.
- When I have to schedule time to get a shower.
- When I haven't written so much as a single letter in 7 days, anywhere; journal, email, snail mail, blog, story-writing. ....(well, does my check registry count as writing?)
- When I haven't sewn a stitch in an even longer amount of time.
So what have I been doing that has kept me so busy?
Putting life back together!
It's good timing, really. I was feeling a little sad, missing Heather since she's been married, and having other things to think about is nice. Hard work has a tendency to make me happy, and I certainly have felt worked when I've fallen into bed each night this week. My biggest project has been creating my own bedroom out of the little bedroom that my younger sisters used to share. They're now living in my and Heather's old room, and I'll be getting their bedroom. I spent about 2 days getting the room clean up and then painted, with the windows and floors also scrubbed. Then I have been spending the rest of the week creating my own little slice of peace.
It's a new thing, for me to have my own room. I hardly know what to think, in a way...and yet it seems very natural. I have always had an itch for interior design, and this is the first time I've had a project to do in that field. I'm letting my creative self go - and I'm taking lots of pictures to share! ....After I share wedding pictures, that is. ;) So much to catch y'all up on!!!!!
I'm hoping to get the room nearly done by Friday. It would be a nice gift. ....For my birthday.
Yup. On Friday I celebrate another year. God is so good to me!
Friday, April 30, 2010
If you've been wondering where I am...
It's awful, I know. I've been absent for a long time, without so much as popping in to say I'm alive.
Well, for part of that time I wasn't sure I was alive, and then when I was sure I didn't want everyone to know it, and then when I wanted them to know it I had no time to tell them.
Make sense?
Two words ought to make everything clear: Heather's wedding.
Oh, it was lovely. The preceding week was hectic, but Friday's rehearsal and the wedding on Saturday were absolutely fantastic. It wasn't craziness that made me feel like hiding in a hole, that's for sure.
I actually had fun on Friday and Saturday - 'specially Friday. So many people that we care about where there, and we were all working toward and common goal, and everyone was so helpful, and there was so much laughter....how could it not be fun?
On Saturday, things were a little different. I still had fun, but it was a more subdued feeling, for I was also struggling with tears. My sister was leaving.
The ceremony itself was peaceful, graceful, full of beauty; it was all the things you could desire. I felt peaceful standing up there, and I was grateful, because I know it came from God.
I don't have time to tell you all about the details - I hope I can do that at a later date. This has been a long week for me, full of lots of emotions....and a lot of work. We are preparing to help Heather and Eugene move into their new house when they return from their honeymoon on Saturday. That being said, I must run. I hope to post more later. For now, a peek at the dresses I kept talking and talking about on here: (I hope I didn't bore you to tears with my continual references to "wedding sewing!")
I hope to post more wedding photos soon, and tell you all about it. For now, thanks to each of you who were praying for us on that day! I love how a blog is different from a journal in that respect; you are real, caring, people, and I know that many of you are praying for me. I love that. God bless each of you. (See - I pray for you too.:)
Well, for part of that time I wasn't sure I was alive, and then when I was sure I didn't want everyone to know it, and then when I wanted them to know it I had no time to tell them.
Make sense?
Two words ought to make everything clear: Heather's wedding.
Oh, it was lovely. The preceding week was hectic, but Friday's rehearsal and the wedding on Saturday were absolutely fantastic. It wasn't craziness that made me feel like hiding in a hole, that's for sure.
I actually had fun on Friday and Saturday - 'specially Friday. So many people that we care about where there, and we were all working toward and common goal, and everyone was so helpful, and there was so much laughter....how could it not be fun?
On Saturday, things were a little different. I still had fun, but it was a more subdued feeling, for I was also struggling with tears. My sister was leaving.
The ceremony itself was peaceful, graceful, full of beauty; it was all the things you could desire. I felt peaceful standing up there, and I was grateful, because I know it came from God.
I don't have time to tell you all about the details - I hope I can do that at a later date. This has been a long week for me, full of lots of emotions....and a lot of work. We are preparing to help Heather and Eugene move into their new house when they return from their honeymoon on Saturday. That being said, I must run. I hope to post more later. For now, a peek at the dresses I kept talking and talking about on here: (I hope I didn't bore you to tears with my continual references to "wedding sewing!")
I hope to post more wedding photos soon, and tell you all about it. For now, thanks to each of you who were praying for us on that day! I love how a blog is different from a journal in that respect; you are real, caring, people, and I know that many of you are praying for me. I love that. God bless each of you. (See - I pray for you too.:)
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Thoughts Inspired by Sunday's Sermon
I scribbled the following post on a piece of paper during this past quiet Sunday afternoon, intending to share these thoughts with you, my dear sisters in Christ. I meant to post this Monday, but things have been busy, so here I am at last. :)
Do you know what causes cataracts?
According to my understanding, it's the sun that makes all the trouble. Over the course of daily living, the sun's rays cause cataracts to build up on our precious lenses, through which we see the world. I've been told that wearing sunglasses with UV protection can slow this process, since it's the UV rays in the sunlight that are harmful. Folks show spend a great deal of time out in direct sunlight, without proper protection, are at a much higher risk of developing cataracts, I would think.
What a horrible thing it would be to be told you are going blind. I shiver at the thought. God knows how dear I hold my sight - such a precious gift from Him it is.
But the sun is not a very big star, in the whole spectrum of things. Many other stars would outshine our sun if they were side by side. It is easy to forget that those tiny sparkling gems that are hidden during the day are, many of them, far brighter than the sun which cloaks them. Yet the sun, with its very closeness, can - and would - blind each one of us if we looked at it long enough. The brightness which fascinates us would be our destruction, plunging us into darkness.
I wonder how many of us are developing spiritual cataracts. We know this world is not our home, and we know eternity awaits us, yet this world distracts us, with all its brightness and glamor. We know it doesn't compare to what will be, but because this world is so close, so here, we stare at it. We embrace it. We love it. Those closeness of it outshines what we've been told about our distant home, and it almost seems as if there is nothing but here and now. Why not live for the moment?
We do all this hardly realizing that we seal our own doom. We can never see the stars, so long as we stare at the sun and, if we stare long enough, we shall not see the stars even when we look away. We shall see nothing. Not even the brightness and glamor that first drew our eyes off eternity.
But I doubt many of us are in that state. I would think that most of us are blissfully unaware of the UV rays that stream into are eyes every day. We haven't noticed that foggy brown haze around our peripheral vision, or the lack of sharp images when the night grows dark. It all happens so gradually.
UV. In science terms, it means ultra-violet light. But in a spiritual application, perhaps it could stand for "Useless Vanity," though calling vanity useless is rather redundant. It does serve to make a point, though, for that's what spiritual UV rays are; useless vanity. That are those things which serve no purpose beyond here and now. The obsession with things that satisfy the five senses and nothing else. The things that stimulate the old man, and call up nothing in the new except a sense of uneasiness.
Let's be gone with these rays. Let's put on our spiritual sunglasses and take our eyes off the world, though we can't help being in it. Let's busy ourselves with getting to know the Master, for we're going to spend eternity with Him.
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Laughter is good medicine
Dad gave three of his daughters (that includes me) a good laugh yesterday evening by the following conversation:
Lezley (or was it Tiffany?): "Daddy, tell us about when you were little."
Dad: "Hmm."
(I wasn't looking at them, but I "heard" a familiar twinkle in his eyes.)
Dad: "Well, I was born very early in my life."
(Giggles from the girls. Great laughter from me.)
Dad: "And I spent most of my childhood as a youth."
(Chuckles all around.)
Dad: "I was born very close to my mother, because I cared about her."
(More chuckles.)
Dad: "And I was very bright. That's why she called me 'son.'"
(Peals of laughter from everyone.)
The End.
Lezley (or was it Tiffany?): "Daddy, tell us about when you were little."
Dad: "Hmm."
(I wasn't looking at them, but I "heard" a familiar twinkle in his eyes.)
Dad: "Well, I was born very early in my life."
(Giggles from the girls. Great laughter from me.)
Dad: "And I spent most of my childhood as a youth."
(Chuckles all around.)
Dad: "I was born very close to my mother, because I cared about her."
(More chuckles.)
Dad: "And I was very bright. That's why she called me 'son.'"
(Peals of laughter from everyone.)
The End.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
I'll plant tomatoes, but I refuse to war with ants.
It all started out so pleasant. I was sitting on our back porch, potting the flower and herb seedlings I've grown. The cool dirt, the smell of spring, and the sight of bright green baby plants were all relaxing and invigorating at the same time. One by one, the row of potted balsam rose plants grew, and I looked proudly at the line.
Dad asked me to re-pot some of the tomato plants when I'd finished with my flowers and sweet basil. I was happy to help, hopeful that we will soon find good homes for each of the tall Italian trees. With over 2 thousand plants at our home, we are eager to get rid of some, much as we like them.
For those of you unfamiliar with the term "re-pot," it means to take plants growing in small containers out of their current containers and put them in bigger ones, so their roots have more space to grow.
I finished my flowers soon after that, and I moved across the porch to where the Italian Tree tray sat waiting for me. I pulled the container of potting soil after me, and settled down in a camp chair to do my work. The tray of plants sat in a plastic holder, and I removed the tray to where I could reach it easier. I put each finished plant in the empty plastic holder. I had potted three plants when it happened.
I noticed that several tiny ants were crawling over my box of potting soil. They seemed to be coming from the tomatoes. I wondered why they where there, but didn't give it further thought until I set my third tomato plant down in the tray.
The tray was moving. I looked closer and saw that it wasn't the black tray that was moving; it was the surface of the tray that was moving.
Ants.
Everywhere.
I saw that almost all of them were carrying eggs, and I immediately knew an ant colony had been disturbed. A moment later I realized that they had built their home between the tomato tray and the plastic holder.
"Daaaaaddy!" I shrieked, but he was out of hearing. I'm not afraid of an ant, but I do have a problem with 6 thousand ants.
I shivered, moved the three pots out of the tray, and stood up to shake the ants out of the tray, hitting it against the deck railing. Ants went flying.
Whoops. I backed into one of my pots. Dirt spilled onto the porch boards, and the proud tomato plant flopped sideways. I tossed the tray aside, and moved to pick up the pot. Whoops. There went my other two plants. More dirt spilled on the porch floor.
I was standing where the tray had been sitting. I looked down, and couldn't help myself; I began to stomp madly everywhere. They were so tiny....I didn't know if I was actually squishing them or not.
I guess not; they crawled up my feet. I was only wearing flip flops, and I could feel their tiny legs on me. I slapped at the tiny creatures madly, but as fast as I got rid of them, more climbed on.
I must have been a sight; stomping, slapping, dancing, and stopping every now and then for a squeal of disgust.
When the torrent finally slowed to a trickle, I took a deep breath, double-check my seat for critters, and sat down to do some more potting. I reached for the tray of plants and picked up a pot. I squeezed the bottom of one of the cells, to loosen the plant inside.
A handful of eggs and ants fell into my palm.
I shrieked, brushed them off in a hurry, and ran inside the house. I love tomato plants, but don't ask me to fight World War III with ants.
Dad asked me to re-pot some of the tomato plants when I'd finished with my flowers and sweet basil. I was happy to help, hopeful that we will soon find good homes for each of the tall Italian trees. With over 2 thousand plants at our home, we are eager to get rid of some, much as we like them.
For those of you unfamiliar with the term "re-pot," it means to take plants growing in small containers out of their current containers and put them in bigger ones, so their roots have more space to grow.
I finished my flowers soon after that, and I moved across the porch to where the Italian Tree tray sat waiting for me. I pulled the container of potting soil after me, and settled down in a camp chair to do my work. The tray of plants sat in a plastic holder, and I removed the tray to where I could reach it easier. I put each finished plant in the empty plastic holder. I had potted three plants when it happened.
I noticed that several tiny ants were crawling over my box of potting soil. They seemed to be coming from the tomatoes. I wondered why they where there, but didn't give it further thought until I set my third tomato plant down in the tray.
The tray was moving. I looked closer and saw that it wasn't the black tray that was moving; it was the surface of the tray that was moving.
Ants.
Everywhere.
I saw that almost all of them were carrying eggs, and I immediately knew an ant colony had been disturbed. A moment later I realized that they had built their home between the tomato tray and the plastic holder.
"Daaaaaddy!" I shrieked, but he was out of hearing. I'm not afraid of an ant, but I do have a problem with 6 thousand ants.
I shivered, moved the three pots out of the tray, and stood up to shake the ants out of the tray, hitting it against the deck railing. Ants went flying.
Whoops. I backed into one of my pots. Dirt spilled onto the porch boards, and the proud tomato plant flopped sideways. I tossed the tray aside, and moved to pick up the pot. Whoops. There went my other two plants. More dirt spilled on the porch floor.
I was standing where the tray had been sitting. I looked down, and couldn't help myself; I began to stomp madly everywhere. They were so tiny....I didn't know if I was actually squishing them or not.
I guess not; they crawled up my feet. I was only wearing flip flops, and I could feel their tiny legs on me. I slapped at the tiny creatures madly, but as fast as I got rid of them, more climbed on.
I must have been a sight; stomping, slapping, dancing, and stopping every now and then for a squeal of disgust.
When the torrent finally slowed to a trickle, I took a deep breath, double-check my seat for critters, and sat down to do some more potting. I reached for the tray of plants and picked up a pot. I squeezed the bottom of one of the cells, to loosen the plant inside.
A handful of eggs and ants fell into my palm.
I shrieked, brushed them off in a hurry, and ran inside the house. I love tomato plants, but don't ask me to fight World War III with ants.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
In which I talk to myself
Oakley Avenue was beautiful this afternoon.
I was driving home from an outing, and my mind was filled with random thoughts. Some of them were lovely, some were just plain crazy, but I thought you might care to "listen in," and perhaps share some of your own random thoughts of today.
1st thought: "Do you know how stupid it feels to shut your own hair in the car door?" (Just for the record, I don't like using the word "stupid" to describe things in general conversation, but since I'm recording my thoughts I've got to be honest about what I thought!) I shall refrain from sharing the story that sparked this particular thought.
2nd thought: This was more of a deep breath than a thought. It was a feeling....it was poetry inhaled. Oakley Avenue is lined with trees that are loaded with blossoms in April. I don't know what kind of trees they are, but they remind me of cherry trees.
Piles of petals lay heaped in the ditches, in various shades of soft pink. I wanted to scoop up handfuls and squeeze them, sure that a pale pink juice would come forth, of strongest, sweetest scent, and a pale, wild, but joyous flavor....tasting the way liquid light must taste. When the breeze tumbled across the roads and parking lots every few moments, I wanted to jump from the moving van, abandon all sense, and wade in the scurrying sea of pink. Every parking lot was a rippling sea of baby-pink confetti. Waves of pink formed and disappeared too fast to be seen, yet I knew I had seen them. Showers of petals filled the air, like a heavy snow storm. Some things are so beautiful they hurt.
3rd thought: "It's amazing that my little size-9 foot can make this bulky van move!" Every thought about that before? One human foot. One huge machine. The machine ought to win. But it doesn't. I boss it around with my single foot. I propel it forward with a foot. ....And, even more astounding, I can stop this incredibly-fast-moving thing with one foot!
4th thought: "Do you know how hard it is to sneeze while keeping your eyes on the road?" You can't.
5th thought: "I can't wait to get home and write a blog post about petals, sneezes, feet, and hair. They're going to think I'm crazy."
I was driving home from an outing, and my mind was filled with random thoughts. Some of them were lovely, some were just plain crazy, but I thought you might care to "listen in," and perhaps share some of your own random thoughts of today.
1st thought: "Do you know how stupid it feels to shut your own hair in the car door?" (Just for the record, I don't like using the word "stupid" to describe things in general conversation, but since I'm recording my thoughts I've got to be honest about what I thought!) I shall refrain from sharing the story that sparked this particular thought.
2nd thought: This was more of a deep breath than a thought. It was a feeling....it was poetry inhaled. Oakley Avenue is lined with trees that are loaded with blossoms in April. I don't know what kind of trees they are, but they remind me of cherry trees.
Piles of petals lay heaped in the ditches, in various shades of soft pink. I wanted to scoop up handfuls and squeeze them, sure that a pale pink juice would come forth, of strongest, sweetest scent, and a pale, wild, but joyous flavor....tasting the way liquid light must taste. When the breeze tumbled across the roads and parking lots every few moments, I wanted to jump from the moving van, abandon all sense, and wade in the scurrying sea of pink. Every parking lot was a rippling sea of baby-pink confetti. Waves of pink formed and disappeared too fast to be seen, yet I knew I had seen them. Showers of petals filled the air, like a heavy snow storm. Some things are so beautiful they hurt.
3rd thought: "It's amazing that my little size-9 foot can make this bulky van move!" Every thought about that before? One human foot. One huge machine. The machine ought to win. But it doesn't. I boss it around with my single foot. I propel it forward with a foot. ....And, even more astounding, I can stop this incredibly-fast-moving thing with one foot!
4th thought: "Do you know how hard it is to sneeze while keeping your eyes on the road?" You can't.
5th thought: "I can't wait to get home and write a blog post about petals, sneezes, feet, and hair. They're going to think I'm crazy."
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
The Flea Market
This Saturday was the first weekend this year that The King's Strings was able to go out to our local flea market and do evangelizing.
For those of you who are newer readers, and hence didn't catch all my references to our flea market ministry last summer, I'll explain briefly:
When we first joined our church, a few older men had been doing the flea market ministry but, to be honest, it was a lot for them to spend an entire morning out there in the heat and everything, so they slowly were coming to the point where they weren't able to do it very often. My sister Heather and I thought "Hey, we're young and full of energy, and this needs to be done, so let's do it!" ...and our family unofficially became "the Flea Market People."
It was either the first or second time we set up at the market that our brother Curtis brought his guitar along. He played whatever hymns came to mind and even though, at that time, he was just beginning to "get good" on the guitar, lots of people stopped to listen and take our tracts. As Curtis played, we older girls manned the tent table, and Dad and our younger siblings stood out in the walkway to catch those who didn't get close enough to the table for us to reach them. We found out that little people are really good at getting anyone - even a gruff-looking person - to take a tract from their small hands. :)
Last year, as the warm weather came back and it was flea market time again, we realized that we now had a new weapon to use; we had a music group that year! Not all 10 members of our group could make it out there every Saturday, of course, but most Saturdays there were at least 4 of us out there, from 6:00 to 12:00.
We were thrilled to see the way music opens doors. Folks stood around our table for many minutes at a time. They clapped at the end of each song, and some sang along. They almost forced us to have a "donation bowl," and hence unknowingly supplied the funds to buy more tracts. They stopped to talk, and talk, and talk.
I have many good memories of last year at the flea market. Getting there in the dark at 6:00, or a little after....shivering in the cold, blowing on numb fingers....getting sunburned later in the day as the heat rolled in and bounced off the gravel paths...long conversations as we sat around while waiting for the crowd to pick up...talks with brothers and sister in the Lord whom we met at the market, and who were so excited to see young people out doing soul winning.
You see, that year the Market Ministry officially was given over to us young people, and we were the ones who loaded up the car, got up at 5:something in the morning, drove over to the market, set up the tent and table, and did the playing and passing out of tracts. Sometimes Mom or Dad, or our Pastor or another member from church, would join us later in the day, but sometimes we did it alone. And we loved it either way. I think we encouraged others, just by being young and being out there.
...Breaking strings...eating whoopee pies, given us by the lady who set up her tent next to us...talks with people who need the Lord...strolling around the market and giving tracts to the other people set up to sell things...
...and watching people fall in love.
I mentioned that there was always at least 4 of us out there. That would be me, my brother Curtis, my sister Heather...and our newest The King's String member; the banjo-playing Eugene.
It was his mother who set up next to us and fed us with whoopee pies when we got hungry, by the way. :) And his sister would sometimes join in and play with us on her guitar. But it was Eugene who worked under our tent, playing and playing and playing....and talking. He has a heart to proclaim the gospel, but it wasn't long before we starting wondering if he had a heart for something - I mean someone - else, as well.
Before the summer was out, Heather and Eugene were courting.
Ah yes, I said I'd give you a brief background on our flea market ministry, didn't I? Oh well. You know me; "brief" is completely relative. You must bear with me. I am in a writing mood.
Anyway....last year was a time of forming a lot of bonds with each other as we spent long hours out at the market. Often we were joined by 3-5 other members of the group, and we all got to know each other much better, and create lots of good memories.
This year, we were so excited to get back. Last Saturday is probably the only time we will get over there between now and the wedding, but in May we plan to be back in the routine again.
I noticed a difference this year. On Saturday, we played a little less, and talked a little more. We passed out a lot more tracts and had longer conversations about the gospel. The members who before were quite willing to be out there, but yet shy about doing anything more than playing their instrument, are now learning to put the instrument down every so often and go talk to people. There is an undercurrent of something different in the whole group. I'm excited to see what God will do with us this year.
On Saturday we had a long interaction time with a former Muslim who now rejects any religion at all. He was very hard and bitter and arrogant, but prayer can work miracles. Please pray for him if you think of it. I may never see him again, but he is on my heart.
I would also like to challenge you; what are you doing to proclaim the gospel of Christ? Every person has their own "niche," their own method that suits them best. We use music because it's a tool God's given us. I also like to use writing because that's another tool God's given to me. He may have given you other tools, but I promise you that if you're His He's given you something. Every saved person has been commanded to share the gospel. It's not an option. But don't think of it as a command, really; think of it as the only way to live. He's forgiven you! And those around you are condemned to hell. How can you NOT want to tell them how to be forgiven?
Wow. I'm challenging myself. Blogging is so convicting.
For those of you who are newer readers, and hence didn't catch all my references to our flea market ministry last summer, I'll explain briefly:
(Here we are last summer.)
The bluegrass gospel group that three of my siblings and I are a part of, The King's Strings, has a desire to use our music to reach folks with the gospel. In past years, my own family has gone out to the local flea markets a few times on our own, or with a member from our church, to set up our church's tent and pass out tracts. That something our church has been doing for a long time, whenever someone volunteers to go out there.When we first joined our church, a few older men had been doing the flea market ministry but, to be honest, it was a lot for them to spend an entire morning out there in the heat and everything, so they slowly were coming to the point where they weren't able to do it very often. My sister Heather and I thought "Hey, we're young and full of energy, and this needs to be done, so let's do it!" ...and our family unofficially became "the Flea Market People."
It was either the first or second time we set up at the market that our brother Curtis brought his guitar along. He played whatever hymns came to mind and even though, at that time, he was just beginning to "get good" on the guitar, lots of people stopped to listen and take our tracts. As Curtis played, we older girls manned the tent table, and Dad and our younger siblings stood out in the walkway to catch those who didn't get close enough to the table for us to reach them. We found out that little people are really good at getting anyone - even a gruff-looking person - to take a tract from their small hands. :)
Last year, as the warm weather came back and it was flea market time again, we realized that we now had a new weapon to use; we had a music group that year! Not all 10 members of our group could make it out there every Saturday, of course, but most Saturdays there were at least 4 of us out there, from 6:00 to 12:00.
We were thrilled to see the way music opens doors. Folks stood around our table for many minutes at a time. They clapped at the end of each song, and some sang along. They almost forced us to have a "donation bowl," and hence unknowingly supplied the funds to buy more tracts. They stopped to talk, and talk, and talk.
I have many good memories of last year at the flea market. Getting there in the dark at 6:00, or a little after....shivering in the cold, blowing on numb fingers....getting sunburned later in the day as the heat rolled in and bounced off the gravel paths...long conversations as we sat around while waiting for the crowd to pick up...talks with brothers and sister in the Lord whom we met at the market, and who were so excited to see young people out doing soul winning.
You see, that year the Market Ministry officially was given over to us young people, and we were the ones who loaded up the car, got up at 5:something in the morning, drove over to the market, set up the tent and table, and did the playing and passing out of tracts. Sometimes Mom or Dad, or our Pastor or another member from church, would join us later in the day, but sometimes we did it alone. And we loved it either way. I think we encouraged others, just by being young and being out there.
...Breaking strings...eating whoopee pies, given us by the lady who set up her tent next to us...talks with people who need the Lord...strolling around the market and giving tracts to the other people set up to sell things...
...and watching people fall in love.
I mentioned that there was always at least 4 of us out there. That would be me, my brother Curtis, my sister Heather...and our newest The King's String member; the banjo-playing Eugene.
It was his mother who set up next to us and fed us with whoopee pies when we got hungry, by the way. :) And his sister would sometimes join in and play with us on her guitar. But it was Eugene who worked under our tent, playing and playing and playing....and talking. He has a heart to proclaim the gospel, but it wasn't long before we starting wondering if he had a heart for something - I mean someone - else, as well.
Before the summer was out, Heather and Eugene were courting.
Ah yes, I said I'd give you a brief background on our flea market ministry, didn't I? Oh well. You know me; "brief" is completely relative. You must bear with me. I am in a writing mood.
Anyway....last year was a time of forming a lot of bonds with each other as we spent long hours out at the market. Often we were joined by 3-5 other members of the group, and we all got to know each other much better, and create lots of good memories.
This year, we were so excited to get back. Last Saturday is probably the only time we will get over there between now and the wedding, but in May we plan to be back in the routine again.
I noticed a difference this year. On Saturday, we played a little less, and talked a little more. We passed out a lot more tracts and had longer conversations about the gospel. The members who before were quite willing to be out there, but yet shy about doing anything more than playing their instrument, are now learning to put the instrument down every so often and go talk to people. There is an undercurrent of something different in the whole group. I'm excited to see what God will do with us this year.
On Saturday we had a long interaction time with a former Muslim who now rejects any religion at all. He was very hard and bitter and arrogant, but prayer can work miracles. Please pray for him if you think of it. I may never see him again, but he is on my heart.
I would also like to challenge you; what are you doing to proclaim the gospel of Christ? Every person has their own "niche," their own method that suits them best. We use music because it's a tool God's given us. I also like to use writing because that's another tool God's given to me. He may have given you other tools, but I promise you that if you're His He's given you something. Every saved person has been commanded to share the gospel. It's not an option. But don't think of it as a command, really; think of it as the only way to live. He's forgiven you! And those around you are condemned to hell. How can you NOT want to tell them how to be forgiven?
Wow. I'm challenging myself. Blogging is so convicting.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
From Public
I think I'm writing the very first blog post I ever wrote in a public place...
...All because another "first" happened recently; my computer caught a virus.
So I'm writing this at my favorite library. :)
Do you know what's rather clever? These library computers have little clocks at the top of the screen, letting you know how much time has elapsed since you got on. Every person is limited to 29 minutes and 59 seconds of computer time at once. Once your time has run out, you have to get in the back of the waiting line again...if there is a line. I'm assuming this thing will automatically kick me off when 0:13:03 more minutes have run out.
So, since I'm limited on time, I'll just say that it's been rather nice to have less computer time the last couple of days. I will admit that there's a lot of computer work that's piling up...that happens when you have a web-based business...but I have been doing a lot of work in the garden, at my sewing machine, in the kitchen, and elsewhere since my computer caught that virus. I also have more time to read - it's nice. I actually read a G.A. Henty book last night, for the first time in ages! (I was reminded that computers aren't the only things that can keep a person up reeeeeeally late. :)
I have lots to talk about when I get more computer access again. I would love to show you pictures of the 3+ outfits I've made this week! And I must talk about the new ideas rolling around in my head. But for now, I'll just wish y'all a splendid day. :)
...All because another "first" happened recently; my computer caught a virus.
So I'm writing this at my favorite library. :)
Do you know what's rather clever? These library computers have little clocks at the top of the screen, letting you know how much time has elapsed since you got on. Every person is limited to 29 minutes and 59 seconds of computer time at once. Once your time has run out, you have to get in the back of the waiting line again...if there is a line. I'm assuming this thing will automatically kick me off when 0:13:03 more minutes have run out.
So, since I'm limited on time, I'll just say that it's been rather nice to have less computer time the last couple of days. I will admit that there's a lot of computer work that's piling up...that happens when you have a web-based business...but I have been doing a lot of work in the garden, at my sewing machine, in the kitchen, and elsewhere since my computer caught that virus. I also have more time to read - it's nice. I actually read a G.A. Henty book last night, for the first time in ages! (I was reminded that computers aren't the only things that can keep a person up reeeeeeally late. :)
I have lots to talk about when I get more computer access again. I would love to show you pictures of the 3+ outfits I've made this week! And I must talk about the new ideas rolling around in my head. But for now, I'll just wish y'all a splendid day. :)
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