Once again, not what it’s about. But the analogy stormed in. When we order Chinese, Steve always gets some. And the name of it always intrigued me. Because how can it be both? And yet, he assures me that it is.
And Christmas hits us in much the same way – exciting yet painful, sweet yet mournful, peaceful but stressful. Every year I live in anticipation of the season. Labor Day promises fall, which delivers the holidays. Then I get into it and I begin to remember the painful parts. And sometimes I’m even ready for it to be finished before it can get rolling.
I remember being twelve or thirteen and a powerful sadness settling over my Christmas. No, it had nothing to do with Santa – that was much earlier. It had to do with a realization that there were no real surprises left. Oh I could, and would, receive many wonderful gifts. But I think I had come to the understanding that stuff didn’t cut it, that there was really nothing I could receive that would bring lasting happiness.
I was a believer then, had been since I was a little girl and my faith was important to me. So I knew that I had the one thing in my life, Jesus, that would get me though anything. Perhaps it was that I now knew that Christmas was indeed meant to be lived thoughout the entire year and I also knew that it could not and would not be.
The irony for any woman who buys gifts, decorates, and bakes is that there will never be enough time to do it all and still sit for hours with friends and loved ones watching the Hallmark channel and munching home-baked cookies and candy. (Probably just as well.) Childhood tricks us. As children, we yearn for the day. And beginning two or three weeks in advance of the 25th, time slows to molasses. We believe it will never come.
Then we grow up and remember that feeling. And we want it back so we can fill it with made-for-tv Christmas movies and Kodak moments with family. I used to talk to my mom about my frustration and she would say, “Christmas is just a day.” And I would mentally call her Scrooge. Yet I have never known a less Scrooge-like person. She truly comes to mind when I read about the widow’s gift (Mark 12:42-44). She had so little; yet everything she received passed through her hands to someone else.
As I get older, I realize what she meant. Certainly, she intended the obvious that we need to practice our faith daily, year-round. But more than that, there is only so much cooking and celebrating we can do, can even tolerate, before it’s time to celebrate the day. And usually that season before comes with a mixture of nostalgia, excitement, pain of loss, loneliness, and joy. And once again, my Father understands exactly how I feel.
On that night so long ago, heaven must have surely been a place of mixed emotions. The angels must have experienced sadness as they bid farewell to their precious Jesus. Our Father probably felt great pride and joy as His Son left the glory of a throne, prepared to step into the skin of a tiny, defenseless baby. Yet He must also have grieved as the plan was set in motion to save us all by His ultimate death on a cross.
A strange Christmas greeting to you, I know. But I guess the message is, whatever you are going through as you read this, know that your Lord has felt it, understands it and feels it with you. Have a peaceful, joy-filled Merry Christmas!
John 3:16
For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.
Friday, December 24, 2010
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Shepherds Watch
And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.” Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests.” When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let’s go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about.” So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger. When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them. But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart. The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things they had heard and seen, which were just as they had been told.
Luke 2:8-20
He awoke with a start. His scalp prickled the way it sometimes did when a wild animal lurked just outside the pen. He sat up quickly and rolled up the cloak on which he had laid his head. As he crept to the closest rock, he peered around the sheep pen and then remembered to let out his breath, aware that he had been holding it in. The sheep slept. The other shepherds leaned in toward the fire, laughing as they shared stories. All was well. As he strolled over to join the group, he chuckled as he rehearsed a tale he would share.
Without warning, a brilliant light pierced the darkness and a voice surrounded the shepherds and the sheep. He dropped to the ground and covered his head with his arms. The voice sounded like none he had ever heard; it was spellbinding, terrifying and yet reassuring and gentle. He trembled as he listened. The angel told the shepherds not to be afraid. The boy dared to look into this kind face that hovered just above the young men as he reached out his arms to them. He shared the joyful news of a Savior, born just that day in a small village nearby and wrapped in rags, sleeping where the animals were.
At once the sky was filled with angels brighter than the midday sun. Their song gave glory to God and peace to men because of His favor. He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate so he could remember the sound. They sang as hundreds, but sounded as only one voice. They sang a sweet harmony but he could not hear the individual parts. He opened his eyes once again to see the glory and they were gone just as suddenly as the first one had appeared.
The shepherds sat wordless for several minutes. No one was willing to mention what he had just seen. Had the others seen it as well? Then as they began to look at one another; they shared a look of wonder and peace and excitement.
“Let’s go now! Let’s go find this Savior, this newly born baby. Who will stay with the sheep?” He and those whose watch was not due for a few hours set off through the darkness, feeling their way through the rocky landscape with their staffs. The darkness seemed even more intense because of the brightness of a few moments before. He traveled without speaking, trying to decide how his life might change as a result of this night, yet knowing it already had.
As they struggled up a rise that overlooked the small town of Bethlehem, he caught his breath and held it long for the second time that night. There in the sky a star shone with the same brilliance that he had seen when the angels came. He stopped and clinched his fists in trepidation. He knew that this baby must be someone powerful if the announcement of his birth was made in such a way. What right had he to impose himself in the birth celebration? He knew how he looked and smelled and he didn’t feel right about it somehow. Yet he sensed that his feet would keep moving one in front of the other no matter if he tried to stop them.
The light from the star made their journey down the incline a little easier and they followed the sounds of the animals in the stables set apart from the living quarters. As they approached the open door, a young woman looked up at them and smiled. She nodded at them as they crept forward to see the baby whom the angels said would change the world. His vision blurred as tears burned his eyes and he looked first at the peaceful mother and then the child. His feelings of inadequacy melted away and he knew that when he next laid his head on his cloak to sleep, he would rest in joy and peace.
Luke 2:8-20
He awoke with a start. His scalp prickled the way it sometimes did when a wild animal lurked just outside the pen. He sat up quickly and rolled up the cloak on which he had laid his head. As he crept to the closest rock, he peered around the sheep pen and then remembered to let out his breath, aware that he had been holding it in. The sheep slept. The other shepherds leaned in toward the fire, laughing as they shared stories. All was well. As he strolled over to join the group, he chuckled as he rehearsed a tale he would share.
Without warning, a brilliant light pierced the darkness and a voice surrounded the shepherds and the sheep. He dropped to the ground and covered his head with his arms. The voice sounded like none he had ever heard; it was spellbinding, terrifying and yet reassuring and gentle. He trembled as he listened. The angel told the shepherds not to be afraid. The boy dared to look into this kind face that hovered just above the young men as he reached out his arms to them. He shared the joyful news of a Savior, born just that day in a small village nearby and wrapped in rags, sleeping where the animals were.
At once the sky was filled with angels brighter than the midday sun. Their song gave glory to God and peace to men because of His favor. He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate so he could remember the sound. They sang as hundreds, but sounded as only one voice. They sang a sweet harmony but he could not hear the individual parts. He opened his eyes once again to see the glory and they were gone just as suddenly as the first one had appeared.
The shepherds sat wordless for several minutes. No one was willing to mention what he had just seen. Had the others seen it as well? Then as they began to look at one another; they shared a look of wonder and peace and excitement.
“Let’s go now! Let’s go find this Savior, this newly born baby. Who will stay with the sheep?” He and those whose watch was not due for a few hours set off through the darkness, feeling their way through the rocky landscape with their staffs. The darkness seemed even more intense because of the brightness of a few moments before. He traveled without speaking, trying to decide how his life might change as a result of this night, yet knowing it already had.
As they struggled up a rise that overlooked the small town of Bethlehem, he caught his breath and held it long for the second time that night. There in the sky a star shone with the same brilliance that he had seen when the angels came. He stopped and clinched his fists in trepidation. He knew that this baby must be someone powerful if the announcement of his birth was made in such a way. What right had he to impose himself in the birth celebration? He knew how he looked and smelled and he didn’t feel right about it somehow. Yet he sensed that his feet would keep moving one in front of the other no matter if he tried to stop them.
The light from the star made their journey down the incline a little easier and they followed the sounds of the animals in the stables set apart from the living quarters. As they approached the open door, a young woman looked up at them and smiled. She nodded at them as they crept forward to see the baby whom the angels said would change the world. His vision blurred as tears burned his eyes and he looked first at the peaceful mother and then the child. His feelings of inadequacy melted away and he knew that when he next laid his head on his cloak to sleep, he would rest in joy and peace.
Monday, December 6, 2010
It's Coming
I hear the wind chimes today – a little louder, more insistent and more constant. Their sweet tones take me to a place and time to come, fuzzy and almost unimaginable, yet very sure and real.
I am outside in my garden listening to the wind and the chimes. I work because my Father works, but today I am playing. I plant and enjoy my surroundings. The colors, the ones I used to know, are vivid and bright. The new ones dance in the heads of the flowers and on the wings of the birds.
I put my hand into the soil, rich, brown and warm, and feel for roots and rocks. As I pull it back, a roly poly bug and a fat spider sit on the back of my wrist. I smile at them, unafraid, and gently put them back into the cleared earth.
As I hear a muffled sound in the bushes, I look up to see a deer, soft, brown eyes twinkling at me. As she approaches, my coonhound – oh that it would be the same one – runs up to her to sniff curiously. She doesn’t run; she doesn’t even flinch. The dog licks her brown nose and she shakes her head. She moves over to let me give her a soft pat or two.
I hear a door close and someone calls out my new name. Smiling I get up and dust myself off. There stands my best friend, come to take me who knows where, to explore and discover this new earth of ours. I give him a hug and smile into his dark eyes, remembering the love and years and thanking God that we feel so strong and healthy.
It’s coming. I will be home. And it’s true and real.
Revelation 21:1, 3
Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away…And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Now the dwelling of God is with men, and he will live with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God.
I am outside in my garden listening to the wind and the chimes. I work because my Father works, but today I am playing. I plant and enjoy my surroundings. The colors, the ones I used to know, are vivid and bright. The new ones dance in the heads of the flowers and on the wings of the birds.
I put my hand into the soil, rich, brown and warm, and feel for roots and rocks. As I pull it back, a roly poly bug and a fat spider sit on the back of my wrist. I smile at them, unafraid, and gently put them back into the cleared earth.
As I hear a muffled sound in the bushes, I look up to see a deer, soft, brown eyes twinkling at me. As she approaches, my coonhound – oh that it would be the same one – runs up to her to sniff curiously. She doesn’t run; she doesn’t even flinch. The dog licks her brown nose and she shakes her head. She moves over to let me give her a soft pat or two.
I hear a door close and someone calls out my new name. Smiling I get up and dust myself off. There stands my best friend, come to take me who knows where, to explore and discover this new earth of ours. I give him a hug and smile into his dark eyes, remembering the love and years and thanking God that we feel so strong and healthy.
It’s coming. I will be home. And it’s true and real.
Revelation 21:1, 3
Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away…And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Now the dwelling of God is with men, and he will live with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Grateful for My Home
Our Pastor has been speaking on the Ten Commandments. We came to the last one today with “Thou shalt not covet.” He talked about the fact that coveting is a twisted desire – when we want something (or someone) so badly that it leads to discontent; when we want any one thing more than God; when it becomes “I would just be happy if…” and that answer is anyone or anything other than God.
It’s kind of funny because that whole contentment thing applies on so many levels, not just in being satisfied with what you have. I’ve taken this Sunday afternoon off, as I do every Sunday. I really regret that I did not start this practice until about five years ago. It is amazing how allowing myself this one day of total rest refreshes me so.
This afternoon I’ve been contemplating going to the Manning Restaurant tonight for our church celebration of Thanksgiving. I’m looking forward to seeing everyone again, even though I just saw them this morning. It’s a blessing to be in a church where your fellow church members are truly your family.
Yet part of me also is looking forward to coming back home tonight, getting in my jammies and snuggling down into the bed. Then tomorrow I’ll spend most of the day in the kitchen cooking for the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday week in Virginia with our family. I’m in a frenzy of excitement – simply can’t wait. Yet, I will be in a frenzy to return to our sweet home again. My mom used to call it wishing your life away.
I’m sure it’s the same with everyone – when you fly, don’t you see the trip out as a series of mileposts to get through? If I can just get checked in…if I can just get through security…we’ll board soon…we’re landing, if I can just get off this plane. And so it goes until we reach our destination and we begin to look forward (with dread or anticipation depending on where we are) to the trip home.
It’s not at all about being discontented. In fact it’s the opposite – it’s good wherever and whenever I am. Always looking forward to something, always waiting for it to be over so I can take a deep sigh and rest. And here’s the thing – it will be that way until I can finally return home, my true home.
So this is my very strange Thanksgiving post. Am I grateful? You betcha. For so many things – my faith, my husband, my children and grandchildren, my church, friends, South Carolina. But most of all because I have Jesus – and because of Him, I know where I’m going and that it will be good to be home.
2 Peter 3:13, 14; 2 Timothy 1:12b
But in keeping with his promise we are looking forward to a new heaven and a new earth, the home of righteousness. So then, dear friends, since you are looking forward to this, make every effort to be found spotless, blameless and at peace with him… I know whom I have believed, and am convinced that he is able to guard what I have entrusted to him for that day.
It’s kind of funny because that whole contentment thing applies on so many levels, not just in being satisfied with what you have. I’ve taken this Sunday afternoon off, as I do every Sunday. I really regret that I did not start this practice until about five years ago. It is amazing how allowing myself this one day of total rest refreshes me so.
This afternoon I’ve been contemplating going to the Manning Restaurant tonight for our church celebration of Thanksgiving. I’m looking forward to seeing everyone again, even though I just saw them this morning. It’s a blessing to be in a church where your fellow church members are truly your family.
Yet part of me also is looking forward to coming back home tonight, getting in my jammies and snuggling down into the bed. Then tomorrow I’ll spend most of the day in the kitchen cooking for the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday week in Virginia with our family. I’m in a frenzy of excitement – simply can’t wait. Yet, I will be in a frenzy to return to our sweet home again. My mom used to call it wishing your life away.
I’m sure it’s the same with everyone – when you fly, don’t you see the trip out as a series of mileposts to get through? If I can just get checked in…if I can just get through security…we’ll board soon…we’re landing, if I can just get off this plane. And so it goes until we reach our destination and we begin to look forward (with dread or anticipation depending on where we are) to the trip home.
It’s not at all about being discontented. In fact it’s the opposite – it’s good wherever and whenever I am. Always looking forward to something, always waiting for it to be over so I can take a deep sigh and rest. And here’s the thing – it will be that way until I can finally return home, my true home.
So this is my very strange Thanksgiving post. Am I grateful? You betcha. For so many things – my faith, my husband, my children and grandchildren, my church, friends, South Carolina. But most of all because I have Jesus – and because of Him, I know where I’m going and that it will be good to be home.
2 Peter 3:13, 14; 2 Timothy 1:12b
But in keeping with his promise we are looking forward to a new heaven and a new earth, the home of righteousness. So then, dear friends, since you are looking forward to this, make every effort to be found spotless, blameless and at peace with him… I know whom I have believed, and am convinced that he is able to guard what I have entrusted to him for that day.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
I'll Have a Green Christmas
Nope, you’re not even close. Hard to believe, but I’m not about to talk snow. I finally made one of the hardest decisions I’ve had to make. This year we will be greening up Christmas with an artificial tree. The fact that our last few trees had curvy trunks encouraged my choice. Let me start way back.
Forty years ago Steve and I celebrated our first Christmas together in our own home. For the first two years of our married lives, we lived in a small cottage with three rooms and a bathroom. A large room across the back became our bedroom and den. I painted the paneled cabinet doors in the fairly large kitchen with a combination of yellow, orange and avocado enamel paint – it was the 70’s after all. Our tiny living room had space for only a small love seat and a drop-leaf table, closed and pushed against the wall.
Excited to decorate our home for our first Christmas, we drove to the Kroger store to check out the fresh trees there. That valuable lesson of “everything looks larger once you get it in the house” was one I learned the hard way. We found a beautiful tree with an amazingly large trunk. We paid for it in a fever pitch of excitement and Steve dragged it to the car – carrying was not an option. The tree was not going to fit either in our car or on the top of it. I called my Aunt Dorothy who rescued us in her station wagon.
Several strings of white lights, a new larger tree stand and dozens of blue ornaments later, Steve and I sat on the floor at the base of our tree, admiring our work. The sofa and table had been relocated to the den and kitchen. The tree was huge, beautiful and I was hooked. Then and there I made an unconscious decision that all our Christmas trees would push the boundaries of space and patience.
Over the years we sawed, cut off limbs, replaced bent tree stands and bought more lights; but our trees were always the focal point of our home from Thanksgiving until New Year’s Day.
Once the kids were able to walk, our most meaningful holiday tradition became going to the woods or to tree farms to get our tree. Every year found us on a horse- or tractor-pulled wagon riding out to fields of beautifully pruned Scotch pines or fir trees. And every year my insurance costs rose as I stood on chairs or step-ladders to lean precariously into the tree to decorate the top.
I remember the year our tradition began to go awry. The tree-gathering trip was as fun as always; but why, oh why did we not see that deep curve in the spine of our lovely Scotch pine? Somehow we managed to get it into the tree stand and keep it up through the holidays, but the trend was set.
By this time the kids were grown and we were trooping through the trees and playing hide-and-seek with kids and grandchildren. The next year our usual tree farm was “catching its breath” and closed for the year and we found another one online – the beginning of the end. We drove into the next county and piled out of the cars (by now we were transporting two trees) and into the fields. Nothing; there was nothing that appealed to us and I began to get an uneasy feeling that our tradition was leaving us. We separated and each family drove to lots to pick out trees.
That particular Christmas, the tree was so curvy (and at this point we were trying to watch for this!), it kept falling. We finally had to undecorate it and get another tree. The next year was pretty much a repeat and I was beginning to yearn for a tall, straight tree that I could count on standing.
The next year we had moved to South Carolina and were still in many boxes because we were having work done on the house. I bought a little live Norfolk Island pine and decorated it; but Christmas was not the same.
Over the spring and summer months of this past year, I have been struggling with the artificial tree decision. Today I ordered the tree and I’m excited! Because I believe we can see any circumstance through the glasses we choose to wear. And today, I’m wearing my “this will be a beautiful, tall, straight tree and you will never again have to struggle with lights” glasses. I could easily go the other direction with my mood but Steve and I have way too much to look forward to.
However, cautious optimism is the phrase of the day. Though I do have a nice, sturdy stepstool, I am getting older; and I ordered a 7 ½ foot tree. The way I see it, that was a compromise. We have cathedral ceilings and I could have gone for the 12 foot one.
Forty years ago Steve and I celebrated our first Christmas together in our own home. For the first two years of our married lives, we lived in a small cottage with three rooms and a bathroom. A large room across the back became our bedroom and den. I painted the paneled cabinet doors in the fairly large kitchen with a combination of yellow, orange and avocado enamel paint – it was the 70’s after all. Our tiny living room had space for only a small love seat and a drop-leaf table, closed and pushed against the wall.
Excited to decorate our home for our first Christmas, we drove to the Kroger store to check out the fresh trees there. That valuable lesson of “everything looks larger once you get it in the house” was one I learned the hard way. We found a beautiful tree with an amazingly large trunk. We paid for it in a fever pitch of excitement and Steve dragged it to the car – carrying was not an option. The tree was not going to fit either in our car or on the top of it. I called my Aunt Dorothy who rescued us in her station wagon.
Several strings of white lights, a new larger tree stand and dozens of blue ornaments later, Steve and I sat on the floor at the base of our tree, admiring our work. The sofa and table had been relocated to the den and kitchen. The tree was huge, beautiful and I was hooked. Then and there I made an unconscious decision that all our Christmas trees would push the boundaries of space and patience.
Over the years we sawed, cut off limbs, replaced bent tree stands and bought more lights; but our trees were always the focal point of our home from Thanksgiving until New Year’s Day.
Once the kids were able to walk, our most meaningful holiday tradition became going to the woods or to tree farms to get our tree. Every year found us on a horse- or tractor-pulled wagon riding out to fields of beautifully pruned Scotch pines or fir trees. And every year my insurance costs rose as I stood on chairs or step-ladders to lean precariously into the tree to decorate the top.
I remember the year our tradition began to go awry. The tree-gathering trip was as fun as always; but why, oh why did we not see that deep curve in the spine of our lovely Scotch pine? Somehow we managed to get it into the tree stand and keep it up through the holidays, but the trend was set.
By this time the kids were grown and we were trooping through the trees and playing hide-and-seek with kids and grandchildren. The next year our usual tree farm was “catching its breath” and closed for the year and we found another one online – the beginning of the end. We drove into the next county and piled out of the cars (by now we were transporting two trees) and into the fields. Nothing; there was nothing that appealed to us and I began to get an uneasy feeling that our tradition was leaving us. We separated and each family drove to lots to pick out trees.
That particular Christmas, the tree was so curvy (and at this point we were trying to watch for this!), it kept falling. We finally had to undecorate it and get another tree. The next year was pretty much a repeat and I was beginning to yearn for a tall, straight tree that I could count on standing.
The next year we had moved to South Carolina and were still in many boxes because we were having work done on the house. I bought a little live Norfolk Island pine and decorated it; but Christmas was not the same.
Over the spring and summer months of this past year, I have been struggling with the artificial tree decision. Today I ordered the tree and I’m excited! Because I believe we can see any circumstance through the glasses we choose to wear. And today, I’m wearing my “this will be a beautiful, tall, straight tree and you will never again have to struggle with lights” glasses. I could easily go the other direction with my mood but Steve and I have way too much to look forward to.
However, cautious optimism is the phrase of the day. Though I do have a nice, sturdy stepstool, I am getting older; and I ordered a 7 ½ foot tree. The way I see it, that was a compromise. We have cathedral ceilings and I could have gone for the 12 foot one.
Monday, November 8, 2010
Safe Travels, Deer
I hit a deer coming home from Bible study last Tuesday night. Or he hit me. I’m still not sure how it happened and, thankfully, the memory has pretty well faded away.
But let me tell you, that experience brought to the forefront yet one more time how precious friends are that you know you can count on. I was riding with Faye and, since I was pretty well hysterically crying and moaning, she spoke with the man who pulled up to see if I was all right. They determined that the deer was probably dead. I couldn’t bear to look. Faye quietly told me how to drive the rest of the way home, since I seemed to have forgotten where everything was on the car’s instrument panel.
As we pulled back onto the highway, I began to cry again, afraid that he was injured and would go off into the woods to suffer. I remembered that Tom is a hunter and went directly to his house. Again, since I was sobbing, Faye stepped in and went to the front door of a dark house to ask him if he would go and kill the deer if it was injured.
I dropped Faye off and somehow found my way home. Steve met me in the driveway and showed me where the front door of the house was. Later that night I got a call from Faye to let me know that they had not found the deer. I immediately assumed a conspiracy – everyone was hiding the truth from me to protect me. And that was fine. Somehow it got me through that first night.
The next morning I called Faye and Lynda and Tom to say thank you. I found out that Lynda and Tom on Tuesday night and then Faye the next morning had gone back and searched the ground, ditch and the woods for signs of the deer and/or blood. They found nothing and so I choose to believe that I simply stunned him and he got up and shook it off and trotted on home.
After making sure I was all right, Tom asked me what kind of shape the car was in. I told him the front left fender was dented in, but that was okay, because it now matched the front right fender where Steve had hit another deer almost a year ago. Tom made me aware that we have now bagged our limit. I started looking around and there are a lot of cars on the roads with bent doors and fenders. I believe we’re taking out more than the hunters!
All of which got me to thinking…and remembering. We used to watch “The West Wing”. One day a year, the president would open the White House to everyone who had any weird request or idea that they would like addressed. President “Jed” Bartlett would make his reluctant staff available to hear these bizarre demands.
Press Secretary C.J. Cregg was stuck in a room with a group who were concerned about the endangered wolves that had to migrate to Canada. They were certain that if the government would spend millions of dollars on a highway system for the wolves, they could save them. Asked how the wolves would know to use the highway, they said special signs could be made for them, much like the ones we have with the deer leaping.
That got me to thinking. I don’t really want to run for office. But I would be willing to raise some money – I don’t think it will take millions – to build some overpasses for these poor deer. Post some signs to guide them and let’s get them safely across our roads!
If you wish to contribute, please send a check (made out to me) at 11 North Lake Circle. Thank you for your support. Let get them safely home, shall we?
But let me tell you, that experience brought to the forefront yet one more time how precious friends are that you know you can count on. I was riding with Faye and, since I was pretty well hysterically crying and moaning, she spoke with the man who pulled up to see if I was all right. They determined that the deer was probably dead. I couldn’t bear to look. Faye quietly told me how to drive the rest of the way home, since I seemed to have forgotten where everything was on the car’s instrument panel.
As we pulled back onto the highway, I began to cry again, afraid that he was injured and would go off into the woods to suffer. I remembered that Tom is a hunter and went directly to his house. Again, since I was sobbing, Faye stepped in and went to the front door of a dark house to ask him if he would go and kill the deer if it was injured.
I dropped Faye off and somehow found my way home. Steve met me in the driveway and showed me where the front door of the house was. Later that night I got a call from Faye to let me know that they had not found the deer. I immediately assumed a conspiracy – everyone was hiding the truth from me to protect me. And that was fine. Somehow it got me through that first night.
The next morning I called Faye and Lynda and Tom to say thank you. I found out that Lynda and Tom on Tuesday night and then Faye the next morning had gone back and searched the ground, ditch and the woods for signs of the deer and/or blood. They found nothing and so I choose to believe that I simply stunned him and he got up and shook it off and trotted on home.
After making sure I was all right, Tom asked me what kind of shape the car was in. I told him the front left fender was dented in, but that was okay, because it now matched the front right fender where Steve had hit another deer almost a year ago. Tom made me aware that we have now bagged our limit. I started looking around and there are a lot of cars on the roads with bent doors and fenders. I believe we’re taking out more than the hunters!
All of which got me to thinking…and remembering. We used to watch “The West Wing”. One day a year, the president would open the White House to everyone who had any weird request or idea that they would like addressed. President “Jed” Bartlett would make his reluctant staff available to hear these bizarre demands.
Press Secretary C.J. Cregg was stuck in a room with a group who were concerned about the endangered wolves that had to migrate to Canada. They were certain that if the government would spend millions of dollars on a highway system for the wolves, they could save them. Asked how the wolves would know to use the highway, they said special signs could be made for them, much like the ones we have with the deer leaping.
That got me to thinking. I don’t really want to run for office. But I would be willing to raise some money – I don’t think it will take millions – to build some overpasses for these poor deer. Post some signs to guide them and let’s get them safely across our roads!
If you wish to contribute, please send a check (made out to me) at 11 North Lake Circle. Thank you for your support. Let get them safely home, shall we?
Saturday, November 6, 2010
The Mad Dash
I see ladybugs, fireflies and crickets as God’s toys of the insect world. He must have been smiling when He created them. Ladybugs have those pretty red polka-dotted wings. Lightning bugs have rear ends that light up! And cricket gentlemen pursue their lady friends by serenading them with their back wings rubbed together. I grew up believing that it was their back legs and that was a much funnier mental picture.
Those are the only “friendly bugs” that don’t intimidate me, the only ones I’d be willing to touch. So I didn’t panic on that first cold night of fall when I raised the garage door to take out the trash and so many crickets came hopping through. They must have felt the warmth coming from beneath the door.
And I had to think of that mad frenzy that must take them over. Winter is coming. A killing season for those left out in the cold. A short life span of only one year drives them to seek warmth and safety.
We’ve not been made aware of our own life spans or how long we have until Jesus returns. We do know He’s coming “in a flash, in the twinkling of an eye at the last trumpet.” (1 Corinthians 15:52a) But we tend to put things off, delay telling our neighbor how Jesus has changed our life, ignore that damaged relationship with a family member. We don’t have a timeline to worry about, so we choose “tomorrow”.
Just like the crickets that make that frantic effort at the last minute to get into the warmth, so we would dash around trying to make up for lost time if we knew how little of it we have left. Why not take this day to begin to prepare for your long eternal life in this fleeting one?
1 Peter 1:13, Philippians 1:6
Therefore, prepare your minds for action; be self-controlled; set your hope fully on the grace to be given you when Jesus Christ is revealed…being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.
Those are the only “friendly bugs” that don’t intimidate me, the only ones I’d be willing to touch. So I didn’t panic on that first cold night of fall when I raised the garage door to take out the trash and so many crickets came hopping through. They must have felt the warmth coming from beneath the door.
And I had to think of that mad frenzy that must take them over. Winter is coming. A killing season for those left out in the cold. A short life span of only one year drives them to seek warmth and safety.
We’ve not been made aware of our own life spans or how long we have until Jesus returns. We do know He’s coming “in a flash, in the twinkling of an eye at the last trumpet.” (1 Corinthians 15:52a) But we tend to put things off, delay telling our neighbor how Jesus has changed our life, ignore that damaged relationship with a family member. We don’t have a timeline to worry about, so we choose “tomorrow”.
Just like the crickets that make that frantic effort at the last minute to get into the warmth, so we would dash around trying to make up for lost time if we knew how little of it we have left. Why not take this day to begin to prepare for your long eternal life in this fleeting one?
1 Peter 1:13, Philippians 1:6
Therefore, prepare your minds for action; be self-controlled; set your hope fully on the grace to be given you when Jesus Christ is revealed…being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
