Dear friends, let us continue to love one another, for love comes from God. Anyone who loves is a child of God and knows God. But anyone who does not love does not know God, for God is love. I John 4:7-8

Saturday, October 31, 2009

My Blogger Absence

It seems that I must, with all due regret, count myself among the doleful numbers of those who have been missing the warm company of the blogging muse as of late.

I've been reading Washington Irving, who seems to never use one word when two will do.

It is likely that the blogging muse will return, as winter is fast approaching and in another month will have settled in for good.

Dee Anna is alive and well up in LIttle Big Foot where the annual deer hunting madness is about to commence.

P.S. L. sounds pretty wrung out--had a hard time after surgery, but is out of hospital today and back to Cancer Cntr. of America. Surgery went okay.

Sunday, October 18, 2009

Larry and Earlene

Ken and Trinity and I spent a good portion of the day yesterday with B-I-L Larry and his new wife, Earlene. Earlene has had a difficult life, including already nursing one husband with cancer, and my heart goes out to her. It's the first time I've seen Larry since my sister's funeral, and I can't say it wasn't a bit strange and a little sad to see him with a pretty blonde. :-) I liked her. It was a good visit. Larry is going to have surgery next Wednesday, but he seems in reasonably good spirits. He is very impressed (as everyone seems to be who goes there) with Cancer Treatment Centers of America. Earlene hugged me when we left and whispered that it was very important to Larry that we came, and to have me in his life. Made me get teary-eyed. Kris and I will hopefully go down after the surgery and see Larry and get Earlene out of the hospital and over to the monster outlet mall that is right across the street.

Sunday, October 11, 2009

Please Pray for Larry

Please pray for my dear brother-in-law, Larry. He has not been well for a while, had pnuemonia, congestive heart failure...and last night he called to let me know he has just been diagnosed with lung cancer. He will be travelling to the Midwestern location for Cancer Centers of America, here next week. I hope I can get down there to see him.

Here are a few pictures. Just because.


One of my favorite pictures of Larry. He is with my mother during a visit to our house just after my sister, Darlaine was diagnosed with Alzheimers. It was a bittersweet visit--and the beginning of a closer friendship between Larry and me as we pondered issues, grieved, planned, and tried to make wise decisions for my sister together.

When this picture was taken a couple of years ago, Larry and I were talking about how it could be possible that two formerly youthful and hip California beach lovers could have become so danged old and fat. We were having fun.


Darlaine and Larry and their daughter in law, Jessica on one side of the table. Ken and me on the other.

He's a special guy. Thanks for agreeing with me in prayer for him and his new wife, Earlene, and the family.

Earl Creps on the Emerging Church

This post from Pentecostal and "Emergent style" church planter Dr. Earl Creps in linked in my sidebar. In case you haven't noticed it and would like to read it, I'm posting the link here. Of course (the post is about being Pentecostal and Emergent), some of what he writes is rather specific to Pentecostals. But quite of bit of it would apply to any of us in the "Evangelical" camp.

Here is one snippet from the post. I wish John Mac A. was aware of what Earl says here:

Generalizations are the enemy: It’s hard to have a conversation without them, but they are misleading. I’ve been asked questions like, “is the EmChurch good or bad?” “Well,” I might reply, “is Pentecostalism good or bad?” The only answer with any integrity is, “yes.” Most of the pastors and members of EmChurch venues that I’ve met have no resemblance to the ...stereotype that my more conservative friends tend to fear so much. Remember, most of these friends are reacting to the sins (real and perceived) of the mainstream evangelical church... And some have few theological interests, as in the mainstream, they are present within EnChurch because of their cultural prefernces.

Earl left a professorship at Assemblies of God Theological Seminary to plant a church in extremely postmodern Berkeley, California. I wish I could be there and help them out!

Friday, October 09, 2009

Those Emerging Heretics

First, I want to recommend Molly's post here about defending "the truth." You know it's a good one when you see the number of comments.

In that post she says, somewhat as an aside (and she is talking about a Banty rooster), " I get such a kick out of watching the little guy. He is so small (and so easy to catch), but he doesn’t know it. He thinks he’s an amazing stud, ever eager to take on any and everything that gets near *his* hens...swaggering around with his wings spread low and his head up high, and we all good-naturedly put up with it, because, well, we have to. He can’t help himself. He has no idea we giggle at his crowing and strutting..." And speaking of a few bloody ankles, she adds, "His puffing, with all its littleness, has a bite. The...truth defenders are much the same. They would be funny, if they weren’t sometimes so harmful, particularly harmful to the very faith that they think they’re defending. All that puffing and snorting does little to attract anyone to grace or truth. It feels good and meaningful to the one doing the puffing (and their supporters), but that’s about all the good that it does."

She is speaking of truth defenders on the 'net, but it takes me back to a radio program I tuned in to recently. I was driving on a boring stretch of road and surfing radio stations. I stopped when I heard a well-modulated, reasonable and educated-sounding preacher.

It took me a few moments to realize what he was really speaking about. He was encouraging his church congregation to be wary of heretics. After some derogatory comments about church leaders who "strut about in robes," he cited alarming quotes, bashed mainline churches, and generally strutted, in a verbal sort of way. Who are these dangerous heretics?

It is those "emerging church" people, that's who. All of 'em.

The speaker said some alarming things and some arrogant things. He said them in such a reasonable way that it was frightening. The congregation was appreciate, laughing at the "right" times, offering affirmation and--I fear--never noticing the implications of what their pastor was saying. Those things included:

We should not respect people of other religions.

We should not engage in dialog with non-Christians, except for the purpose of converting them.

We should not listen to anyone who is not a fundamentalist (he did not use that word, but he might as well have).

The emerging church is extremely dangerous. Heretics, in fact, who have perverted the truth.

Jesus rebuked the self-righteous religious leaders. He would, if he were here, soundly rebuke these religious leaders too.

He quoted at least two men, one "a prominent emergent church leader" and the other "the leading spokesman for the emerging church movement" without ever naming either one. I suspect the quotes were taken out of context, but I can't read and find out for myself, since he did not name any of the heretical leaders. He seemed unaware that the "emerging church" is not a cohesive, coherent body, not a denomination, and not even a united group.

I have to admit that I agreed with a tiny fraction of what the speaker said. But I have been pondering the possible effects on his hearers. I am all too aware that people in a congregation or an audience only hear a small part of what is spoken from a platform. And they can misconstrue things in amazing ways.

So what might some people do who hear John MacArthur say that they should not respect, not engage in dialog, in fact should rebuke and correct those who have beliefs unlike their own? I shudder to think!

If you want to read the sermon you can find it at Grace Community Church online.
However, as Molly said, all that puffing does little to bring anyone to grace or truth. Perhaps he (and all of us) should take note of the facts that clearly point to some serious trouble in the evangelical camp as well. We have plenty of work to do to clean our own "houses," seems to me.

Saturday, October 03, 2009

Autumn Round These Parts

The feed corn is brown and drying in the fields; the soy beans are about ready for harvest. The trees are beginning to show more color, and the wind is usually blowing. We've reluctantly turned on the furnace and I have pulled out my sweaters from the chest in the basement.

Yes, autumn has arrived. So today we decided to get out our fall lawn decoration and add some corn stalks and pumpkins. Squash and pumpkins grow very well in the upper portion of the USA, and all around in our area are wagons loaded with beautiful varieties for sale. Usually there is a box somewhere for depositing cash.


Trinity came along to help us check out the best ones. Here she is with Uncle Kevin.

How 'bout this one, Grandma?

Papa selects a pie pumpkin, and Trinity picks out a few of the colorful gourds.
Back home, I start a pot of stew on the stove while Papa and Trinity work on a Lion King puzzle.
Oh yeah, football is on TV, of course. It IS Autumn, after all.

When is the last time you fell asleep with your feet in the air? This is Trinity's toddler size bed, snagged at the local thrift store.


I love the color in the fields and trees, the pumpkins, the scent of smoke, the warmth of a cozy sweater, snuggling under the weight of more blankets on the bed. Tonight I am feeling a bit at a loss. I still feel like I should be working on a sermon on Saturday. I am missing my mother (who absolutely loved Fall) and I am missing my sister too. Something about this time of year always makes me feel a bit melancholy, even though there are many things I love about it.

I miss fellowship and fun with certain close friends. I miss prayer with a group of others who longed for God's will to be done. I miss the sense of expectation and anticipation for what God was doing and would do.

Lately I keep thinking of Darlaine, and the odd thing is that for a millisecond I forget that she died. I always think of her being somewhere. I know, she is. But I mean somewhere in this world that just does not happen to be the same place as I am--not difficult because we never lived in close proximity after I got married.

So for a moment I think of her at her stove, or sipping a steaming cup of tea as she reads a book...or...and then I realize I will not see her, or hear her voice till eternity. I miss her with a sharp pain of loss. Strange time. I wonder how long it will before I realize she is really gone?

This will be the first Christmas since my mother died, though she was not really "present" last year and did not enjoy the season. How long before I do not feel guilty for using anything that was hers? I mean, I can feel guilty using a towel or a basket or anything that belonged to her. Not rational, I know. Doesn't matter.

I am missing things I always did at this time of year: decorating the sanctuary with fall flowers along with my secretary and friend. Doing our annual prayer walk around the towns of our area. Beginning to think seriously about what I will do for the annual Christmas Eve candlelight service.

How long before I am feeling comfortable in my own skin again? How long before certain worship songs do not make me teary-eyed? Or how long before I stop feeling out of place and a bit lost? How long till I am genuinely at peace with God--and with myself? How long until I am aware of God's presence or become aware of God's "voice"?

I don't know. Autumn is a strange time. Especially this year. But it was, nonetheless, a lovely day. And God is still good.

The Psalmist knew this too, and Psalm 13 reminds me that I can make a choice to praise God and be thankful, even when I do not understand.

How long, O LORD?
Will You forget me forever?

How long will You hide Your face from me?
How long shall I take counsel in my soul,
Having sorrow in my heart daily?
How long will my enemy be exalted over me?

Consider and hear me, O LORD my God;
Enlighten my eyes..
Lest my enemy say,
“I have prevailed against him”;
Lest those who trouble me rejoice when I am moved.

But I have trusted in Your mercy;
My heart shall rejoice in Your salvation.
I will sing to the LORD,
Because He has dealt bountifully with me.

Saturday, September 26, 2009

Little Big Foot: The Fall Festival

The pungent fragance of smoke wafted through the woods from the many wood-burning stoves of the area. The honking of Canadian geese on their way south filled the sky, the night air was cool and the trees had donned their colorful fall garments. Little Big Foot’s summer tourists had mostly disappeared for the season, but the stores, restaurants and business establishment were decorated for the season nonetheless with cornstalks, hay bales, scarecrows and pumpkins.

The Episcopalians had already begun practicing for their annual Christmas drama. Dee Anna had heard that people came from all over the county to see their beautiful production. The Lutherans were planning their annual Lutefisk supper. The Catholics had begun a campaign for Thanksgiving food baskets and all the churches were participating. Autumn had arrived in Wisconsin’s north woods.

North Woods Chapel was having a festival.

The water was colder than she had expected, and Dee Anna came up gasping. The crowd around the dunk tank applauded and cheered loudly. Catching her breath she called loudly, “Okay, those of you who said you’d pay to see me get wet, remember you owe the youth missions fund some big bucks!”

“We have the coolest pastor ever,” said one teen girl who was dressed as a butterfly. Her friend, a tall lanky girl who was outfitted as a vampire, grinned, showing her fangs. Dee Anna didn’t think she had ever seen her before.

“Make that the coldest pastor ever, and you’ll be right,” she called as a grinning Deacon Chad helped her out of the dunk tank and Lorene Johnson handed her a large beach towel. Madelaine was standing to one side with a school friend she had brought to the party, a short round girl with long braids. Both girls waved to Dee Anna as they munched on pumpkin-shaped sugar cookies.

The wide back lawn at North Woods Chapel was crowded with people—children, teens and adults. One side of the lawn was filled with food and the buttery aroma of popcorn mingled with the sweet scent of the funnel cakes that Lorene’s husband Jim was frying in a large vat. There were Nesco roasters full of hamburgers, hot dogs and bratwurst with sauerkraut. Crock Pots contained baked beans and German potato salad. Coolers held cans of soda in ice and one long table supported two large coffee pots and several jugs of hot cider.

The other side of the lawn featured a blow-up jumping castle and a row of booths that contained various kid’s games. A group of boys pushed each other and laughed as one of their friends shouted loudly that he had landed his wooden hoop over the top of a bottle. Dennis and Marla Whitewater stood together in another booth with fishing poles and helped children hook toys from a “pond.” Lee Coats stood in the next booth, helping a group of smaller children take turns trying to pin the nose on a Jack O’ Lantern. His booth also contained a large pumpkin bean bag game--in the same shade of glowing orange. Dee Anna smiled to herself, remembering that when she had brought the can of orange paint up from the parsonage basement Lee had agreed that the leftover wall paint would make a fine pumpkin color. He had seemed surprised to learn that the orange color was left over from someone’s previous paint job in the parsonage master bedroom.

Dee Anna aimed for the back door of the church, navigated through a kitchen full of junior high girls making candy apples and climbed up the stairs to the front entry and her office where she had stashed a gym bad containing a change of clothes. Slinging the bag over her shoulder, she headed for the women’s restroom.

North Woods Chapel’s new pastor was wet and her teeth chattered slightly, but she was happy. She had been in Little Big Foot for about two months. Madelaine had started third grade at the public school, and to her mother’s relief she had made several friends, the "best" of whom was Dana, the plump girl with braids. Dee Anna, Madelaine and the dog, Charlie, had settled in at the parsonage, and Chad and the Whitewaters had helped her paint the rooms more reasonable colors. The pizza-patterned carpet remained, but after bringing in their furniture, it was less noticeable. Madeline’s room was lovely, and the beige walls of Dee Anna’s bedroom were passable, but the orange closet remained. She planned to get to that soon.

Dee Anna had been busy getting acquainted with the people of North Woods Chapel. She had already visited most of the congregation in their homes and things seemed to be going well. The first meeting with the deacon board had gone off fine, she mused, and she had met with other ministry teams during the past weeks. So far, so good.

She peeled off her wet flannel shirt, put on dry underclothes and pulled a sweatshirt over her head. A few minutes later, she emerged from the restroom wearing jeans and white sneakers and with her red curls mostly dry. She was thinking happy thoughts of how well the Fall Festival was going. The attendance had been better than expected. They had planned a fun night that would conclude with a short time of worship and an autumn-themed story with a gospel message.

She peeked in the sanctuary doors. Mary Coats and another woman were arranging some props that Dee Anna planned to use during the story. Mary placed a scarecrow on a small chair, and then she smiled and beckoned, but she didn’t look happy. “What do you think, Pastor?”

“This looks great, ladies!” smiled Dee Anna. “Thank you so much for all your hard work.” Mary smiled and nodded but said nothing. Her companion was Mary’s neighbor, a small thin woman with a sharp nose who had recently started coming to church at Mary and Lee’s invitation. Dee Anna had only spoken to her briefly and now she struggled to remember her name. Betty? Bernice? Something with a B…

Her thoughts were interrupted as the woman crossed her arms across her chest and said, with a frown, “Pastor, I know I’m new here, and maybe I should keep my opinion to myself...” She paused and glanced at Mary, who was looking miserable now. “But I just cannot keep silent in the face of such goings on.”

“Uh oh,” thought Dee Anna as she said, “Is something wrong…um…Bonnie? You and Mary have done a wonderful job in here.”

“Scarecrows and hay and cornstalks in a church are one thing,” the woman snapped. “But…” she turned and gestured toward the direction of the back lawn. “Jack O’ Lanterns? Don’t you know those are pagan?”

Dee Anna sighed inwardly, thinking involuntarily of her mother. “Well,” she began, “actually…”

“And another thing,” Bonnie continued, stabbing a finger in Dee Anna’s direction, “Did you see those costumes? There is a vampire, a witch, and even….” she sputtered, “A devil costume! I simply cannot believe that any church that preaches the truth would condone such things.” She frowned at Dee Anna, who took a deep breath and spoke softly, keeping her voice even.

“Yes, I know that some of those costumes may be a bit questionable…”

“A bit!” the little woman snorted. “Do you have any sense?” Mary gasped and patted her friend’s arm, “Please, Bonne, Pastor Dee Anna means no harm. She…”

Dee Anna smiled reassuringly at Mary. “It’s all right, Mary. I’m sure your friend doesn't mean to be disrespectful.” She turned to Bonnie and began again, “I am glad you feel strongly about spiritual matters. When we planned this event we knew there might be a bit of controversy, but children are going to celebrate Halloween one way or another, so we thought it would be good to have some fun right here at the church where we can also share some good news with the…”

Bonnie snorted, “So you are going to mix a gospel message with all this…this…evil? Don’t you know that light has no fellowship with darkness?

Dee Anna sighed softly. “I’m sorry you feel that way, Bonnie. I hope that when you see how we end the evening you will be reassured. My daughter, Madelaine, and most of the church kids are not wearing costumes or they are wearing less, um, less dark ones. But we are happy to have children and teenagers come here who might not show up for Sunday worship. Their moms and dads too.”

Bonnie interjected, “I don't much like fun and games in a church. Still, I was happy to help Mary decorate the sanctuary for a story and some singing, but when I arrived and saw what is going on here…well…I can tell you the ones who are happy about what is going on at this church right now are the demons in Hell!”

Afterwards Dee Anna could never understand how she had spoken the next words aloud. Mary had stared at her, confused, and Bonnie’s mouth had dropped open.

Dee Anna had replied, “Actually, speaking of Hell, I think the demons might mostly be happy about my bedroom closet.”

Friday, September 25, 2009

A Fall Friday Five

The Autumnal Equinox has just come 'round again. I took a look back at our Friday Fives and noted that it always seems to make the Rev Gals and their Pals think of changes.

There is something so nostalgic about this time of year, at least in the Northern Hemisphere. The nights grow cooler, crops are harvested, for some of us the leaves are beginning to change colors. The scent of smoke is in the air, pumpkins are in the stores (or on wagons, or in roadside stands for those of us in the country). I'm thinking of putting away my summer clothes and pulling out the sweaters. And I have a tub of Fall-themed items that my husband just lugged up from the basement. I'm looking for my scarecrow.

For this week, let's share some memories along with some hopes and expectations.

1. Share a Fall memory.
My mother loved Fall, and it's not a season that happens much in California where I grew up. Sometimes we would take a trip up the the mountains where the air was crisp and the leaves were showing some color. I remember one Autumn weekend at Yosemite National Park, roasting marshmallows (which I do not like, but like the smell) with my sisters, singing songs, smelling smoke and pine trees. I experienced an all-too-rare sense of peace and serenity. It was one of the last fun times we had as a family.

2. Your favorite Fall clothes--(past or present)?
Fall was when the Spiegel catalog arrived. Californians don't really need warm clothes, but I loved looking at the wool coats, hats, scarves...who knew that one day I'd live in snow country? I still like getting out the fall clothes, sweaters, boots, my brown corduroy skirt. I just wish that the need for fall clothes did not turn so quickly into needing WINTER clothes.

3. Share a campfire story, song, experience...etc.
One of the things I love about reenacting is what happens around campfires at night. People talk, sing, reminisce--there is something very companionable about sitting around a fire. Think of how many generations people have been doing that!

4. What is your favorite thing about this time of year?
The changes happening in nature are very evident here. I'm starting to take the camera with me in the van--there are so many beautiful things to see. The fields are ripe--corn, beautiful golden soybeans, wheat, bright orange pumpkins. The grasses are taking on the hues of fall, and the sounds are changing too. The Canadian geese are getting excited and starting practice flights, honking excitedly in small "Vs" which will grow larger as the time to depart arrives. I love the sound of geese in the sky! I do not love being in the north (still a bit of a California hot-house flower, I suppose) but I do love this time of year.

5. What changes are you anticipating in your life, your church, family...whatever...as the season changes and winter approaches?
Kris and Daryl are busy harvesting from their garden and their apple and pear trees. Kris is loading her basement shelves with canned things. She recently made pickles. Yesterday she made jam from the Concord grapes that are on their property--beautiful things as the grow purple in the sun. Next comes salsa making. It's fun watching them on their little hobby farm, and seeing the fun Trinity is having as she learns about life in the country. I don't know what is ahead for me...still hoping for ministry opportunity but enjoying the work I'm doing for a small financial firm. As always I'm thinking of change as the season turns cool. I do not know what to expect. But it will be good to celebrate Thanksgiving with Kris and her little family, Ken's brother, Kevin, maybe our son Josh. Fall seems to be a "gathering in" time, doesn't it?

Bonus: What food says "AUTUMN" at your house? Recipes always appreciated.
Apples! Kris and Daryl have LOTS of apples. It is lovely to see them ripen on the trees, to smell the applesauce cooking, to think of pie baking, apple bread, other things that call for cinnamon and spice!

Friday, September 18, 2009

Remembering Mary Travers



This video is how I remember Mary Travers--that strong, deep voice belting out the music, tossing that blond hair back out of her eyes...singing for all she was worth and Paul and Peter harmonizing too...amazing harmony.

I am a Peter, Paul and Mary fan from way back. Oh sure, I came of age in the '60s so we all loved folk music to some degree. But Ken and I own every album they made, including one very non-folky one. I know ever word to every song they sang, not just the well-known ones that made the Top 40. We also own Paul Stookey's solo album (love it) which is simply titled "Paul."

Peter, Paul and Mary were singing during many memorable moments of my life. That sentimental song, "Puff the Magic Dragon" brought tears to my eyes as a kid. I was kissed under the stars at the famous Hollywood Bowl while listening to PP&M sing. After another concert a friend remarked, "Listening to those three is almost like they are in your living room giving you a personal concert." It was true. I don't know how they managed it, but with their guitars, voices, lyrics, gentle humor and passion for justice they connected with their audience in a way that was uncanny.

Our kids love them too. Actually, our kids can quote the entire "Paul Talk" track--side two of the "Peter, Paul and Mary in Concert" album. I laughed so hard the first time I heard it that I nearly fell off my sister's couch.

I sang "I'm in Love With a Big Blue Frog" and people thought it was about Ken. My late sister, Darlaine, our friend Rod Turner, and I sang their songs, and others, at a few Valentine's banquets! I recall many evenings when Rod and I sat in my living room singing and singing...PP&M, Ian and Sylvia, and Dylan. I was so very young then!

I am saddened to hear of Mary's passing, and it almost feels as though I lost a personal friend--yet another reminder of the brevity of life in this world.

Halfway Down the Stairs Friday Five

Jan from Rev Gals shares a unique Friday Five today.

Halfway down the stairs
Is a stair
Where I sit.
There isn't any
Other stair
Quite like
It.

I'm not at the bottom,
I'm not at the top;
So this is the stair
Where
I always
Stop.

Halfway up the stairs
Isn't up,
And isn't down.
it isn't in the nursery,
it isn't in the town.

And all sorts of funny thoughts
Run round my head:
"It isn't really
Anywhere!
It's somewhere else
Instead!"

— A. A. Milne
“Halfway Down,”
When We Were Very Young

Thinking of your childhood as a stairway, when did you feel (and how did you feel then)?
This is a difficult one, but I'll make a brief attempt at it.

1. at the bottom?

The first of many times feeling "at the bottom" was in Kindergarten. I did not realize, being mostly loved and sheltered at home, that I had some physical difficulties that most other children did not have. So the nearly blind and very clumsy and pigeon-toed me was completely unprepared for the cruelty I encountered in my first classroom and playground. The most "bottom" thing about this was that I knew quite clearly that my teacher, whose name and voice I recall very clearly, did not like me and had no clue what to do with me.

2. at the top?

The most uplifting times for me that same year were in church. I loved everything about it. My teacher, Mrs. Newbill, loved me and saw that I was longing to learn about God. I recall her voice as well, and also her face. That lets me know she got close enough to me for me to see her, which would have been quite close in those days. I loved my pastor, Brother Polk, our classically trained pianist, Paul Zizanis, my friends, the choir...well, you get the idea! No wonder I love the Church. Other "up" times were on camping trips (think Giant Sequoias, Redwoods, waterfalls, and mountains). Camping trips were the times my family acted most like a normal family.

3. halfway?
Just out of high school, feeling half-adult, half-child, feeling miserable about my disintegrated family, but excited to be out of school for a while, feeling freedom coming, feeling frightened. A very tumultuous time...that half way place is an odd one. Maybe I shouldn't have used this one since it wasn't exactly "childhood."

4. At this point in your life, where would you place yourself on your own stairway?

Always climbing it...always seeking to go higher.

5. Identify a place for you that "isn't really anywhere" but "somewhere else instead."

This year. Right now. Not elaborating on that one today.

Sunday, September 13, 2009

A Present From My Uncle Sam & God

As I mentioned in a previous post, Ken has been rated 100% disabled (for purposes of the US Veteran's Administration). We are not yet quite sure what the dollar amount of our monthly disability check from our Uncle Sam will be, but we did receive a little back payment of funds that dated from the day he contacted his VA Representative.

One of the concerns we had when I left Jubilee Church (who just installed their new pastor this morning) was our vehicle. I won't go on and on about our financial situation, but it has not been happy. I'm driving a beat up van with about 200,000 miles on it. I've been concerned about what I'd do when the van finally died and lately I've said a prayer almost every time I drive it. 'Nuff said?

So when our VA check arrived we knew that one thing we would have to do right away was find a drivable vehicle. Yesterday we went van shopping. Everything that was in our price range had well over 100 thousand miles on it. We talked about whether to put down half and finance another chunk so as to have a newer van that would last longer. We didn't really know what was the prudent thing to do. Of course, a "newer" used vehicle would be good, but we are already in way more debt that we want to be, so what to do? We went to sleep last night without really resolving our thoughts.

This morning (in the shower--I do some of my best praying there) I laid it all out before the Lord, once again. I asked for direction, for wisdom, for blessing. Yes, I think it is fine to ask for blessings as long as I don't start thinking I'm entitled or can "claim it." ;-)

I decided to get specific. I said, "God, you know our situation. You know we have faithfully given to the Kingdom even when we really did not have money to give. You know all about it, and you know what I need to drive. The most important thing is not to have lots of repair bills. Please help Ken and me be of one mind on this, whichever way we need to go. But since I'm asking, I really would like it to be red--and to have a CD player." (Our current one is champagne, a color I hate. We always end up with neutral colored vehicles, and I'm not a neutral color person. And none of the vans in our price range had a CD player either.)

I felt a little silly, but I added, "And God, you know I would have chosen for Ken to be healthy and never to receive this little money gift from the USA. But it isn't a lot, and we do have lots of needs. So...could we get it for no more than $6,000?"

Off we went to church. On the way home Ken suddenly said." Hey! Go back to the Kwik Trip." (Wisconsin's version of a 7-Eleven type store.) "There is a nice-looking van there with a FOR SALE sign on it." We drove back. Yep, a nice RED van (the picture doesn't show it, but it is kind of a candy-apple red). I had a funny feeling--ever had a feeling that God is grinning at you?--and I said, laughing, "I'll take it! Call the phone number right now."

Ken looked at me funny. "Right now? You don't want to go home and at least get a checkbook?"

Ken dialed the number on the sign. No answer.

But about 20 feet away on the sidewalk was a man walking with his wife and baby. His eyes met Ken's.

"Did you just call about this van?"

"Yes!"

"Well, that's my home phone. I'm not home. I'm right here."

Turns out that he had just happened to be out for a walk. He parked the van there earlier today. He was asking $6,500, already well under "Blue Book." We drove it (and during the drive I said to Ken, "He'll take $6,000)."

We loved it. It's a Town & Country and so is longer than some other mini vans. Long enough to stow Kevin's wheel chair in back.

Ken asked the guy if he'd take $6,000. He hesitated, saying that $6,000 was his rock-bottom price and adding that a guy was coming over to look at it...then, a bit reluctantly, "But since you are standing here with your check book in your hand, I'll take the $6,000."

It has higher miles than I'd have liked. But I think it is going to be a good buy. What do you think?

P.S. It's a 2003. And it has a CD player. It's "loaded."

Monday, September 07, 2009

Last Summer Days

We just returned from the last fur-trade rendezvous re-enacting camp we will be at this summer. We had such a good time with Kris, Daryl, Trinity, Kevin and good friends Eric, Darla and Bob, and Cindy and Tommy.

The weather was wonderful (actually a bit hot, so maybe Kris and Daryl can have ripe tomatoes after all), and the company was good. Ken was in pain, but he says he'd be in pain anyway so he might as well be having fun...I'm not so sure, but he did win the archery competition. Meanwhile Kris won the woman's tomahawk throw. was 2nd in the skillet toss, and she came in third in the firestarting--and pie baking competition. I came in second, edged out of first place by ONE point....an upstart first-time pie baker received 100 pts. to my 99! Imagine! Actually, it was fun to see her surprise, and we all hooted and hollered and whistled. Here is a picture of Kris and me on our way to the competition. Kris' pie was apple/pumpkin and mine was strawberry peach. (The winning pie was apple. Go figure.)
A good hot shower felt great, and now I'm going to have a bowl of sherbet and climb into bed!

P.S. I'll go over to The Owl's Kitchen and post the pie recipe. It will prove that sometimes simple recipes are best. I made it up on the spur of the moment. :-) But I'm going to make one again while I can still get fresh peaches and strawberries.

Friday, August 28, 2009

Friday Five: I Like Myself

Ever notice how much easier it is to note your faults than to see your good qualities? Today's Rev Gal Friday Five is about some healthy affirmatio. Tell us five things you like about yourself!

1. I am tenacious. (Yes, I'm also stubborn!) If I think something is right, just, needs to be...I'll hang in there as long as I can to try to get it done. I don't give up easily.

2. I am flexible. Not physically...nope,nope,nope. In life. I can adapt to situations, people, places. And usually I can not only adapt, but I can find something to like and enjoy. That trait has been well-exercised in my life, which has been full of unexpected twists and turns. Someone recently said I was like a "Weeble." Those are toys. "Weebles wobble but they don't fall down!"

3. I can laugh at myself. Essential!

4. I can laugh with those who laugh and weep with those who weep.

5. I have a friendly smile. (Okay, I was running out of stuff.)

How about you?

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

The Pajama Farmer

Most of you know that our daughter Kris and her family have moved to rural Wisconsin (about 10 miles from us) from where they lived in almost-inner-city Minneapolis. Daryl started a blog about their experiences on their little hobby farm. It's called "Pajama Farmer." Go visit if you are interested in two city kids going country.

Sunday, August 23, 2009

Little Big Foot: Paint

Marla Whitewater sat back on her heels with a sigh. "I think that about does it." She balanced her paintbrush carefully on the side of the paint can. "Ready for the roller." She glanced into the can. "I hope we have enough to finish the room. I'd hate to send poor Chad back to the Ben Franklin Store one more time!" She was dressed in a rolled up pair of jeans and one of her husband Dennis' cast-off dress shirts. She had tiny flecks of pink paint in her hair and a smear of it across her right cheek.

Pastor Dee Anna grinned as she turned on the ladder where she stood painting the wall next to the ceiling. Like Marla, she wore jeans but her shirt was red and said "Eastside UMC" on the back. "That's a lovely shade of blush you have on your face, Marla, but maybe a bit too permanent to be practical."

As Marla raised her hand to her cheek, Dennis' genial brown face popped around the door frame. "How's it goin' in here ladies? It's been a challenge covering up that bright green color, but Chad and I are about done."

"I woulda been done an hour ago if I hadn't had to keep running to the store." Chad's voice called from the hallway.

Dee Anna climbed down from the ladder as Marla stood to her feet, stretching. "I could use some nourishment, but it would be nice to get Madeline's room all painted before we stop." She bent to pick up a roller. Madeline was spending the night with a new friend from school and Dee Anna hoped that when her daughter arrived home the next afternoon she would find her bedroom looking bright and welcoming with no hint of the dark purple that had made the small room look like a cave.

Pastor Dee Anna Hansen was surprised at how well things were going. When they had arrived there had been plenty of guys to help unload the truck. Madeline had kept Charlie occupied as best she could while the grown ups unloaded their belongings. Dee Anna had been surprised and gratified to see that a sizable portion of her new congregation were there to help out. In the church kitchen, Jim Johnson told her, several women were putting together a soup supper for everyone.

As Dee Anna directed the parade of furniture and boxes from a spot just inside the parsonage door, Marla Whitewater and Lorene Johnson had eyed the boxes till they found the ones marked kitchen. The two of them had the dishes, utensils and pots and pans stowed away in short order. "I don't know if we put things in the spots were you will want things," Lorene had said to Dee Anna, "but it'll be easier rearranging than it would be unpacking a bunch of boxes in the kitchen."

Lee Coats and a middle-aged man named Ted had put the bed frames together. As soon as the mattresses were unloaded from the U Haul, Lee's wife, Mary, and one of the teenagers who Dee Anna learned was named Tiffany, searched for the box containing bedding. By the time all the furniture was in, the two of them had made up both her bed and Madelines with sheets, blankets and bed spreads.

Dee Anna had watched from the parsonage doorway as her couch, end tables, dresser, and cedar chest had emerged from the truck. After moving in all the furniture, several men and teen boys made a sort of assembly line and moved the boxes inside the little house.

Chad had led a group of young men in dispersing boxes to the various rooms. The whole job of moving all their things from the moving truck to the house had taken about an hour, and in another hour the furniture and boxes were stacked in the right places. Madeline had giggled when she came in to find that somone had even put her giant Winnie-the-Pooh in the middle of her bed. "But, Mommy," she'd said later that night, "the colors in this house are all so...so bright."

Now, a few weeks later, Dee Anna stood in the middle of her daughter's room for a moment, gazing around. It was looking pink--a shade that reminded her of sherbet. She smiled at Dennis and Chad, who had also appeared in the doorway. "I could go for some fish fry. Isn't that what you all eat up here on Friday nights?"

Marla looked at her and laughed, "Now that'd be a sight! The four of us trooping in to the Little Big Foot Diner dressed in jeans and paint splatters!"

"How about I go over to the Lumberjack Drive-In and get a sack of their hamburgers?" asked Chad. "They have the best burgers anywhere around." He glanced at Dee Anna with a small smile, "And besides, they actually sell Dr. Pepper."

A short while later the four of them sat around Dee Anna's round kitchen table, companionably sharing french fries and munching what had turned to be excellent hamburgers. Charlie snored softly from his dog bed in a corner. Most of the house was looking orderly, and Dee Anna confided to the others that she and Madeline were starting to feel at home. The four of them had spent most of the day painting and they were all tired, but it was the good sort of tired that comes after shared physical labor. The chartreuse hallway was now a warm beige, and Dee Anna was happy that Madeline's room would soon be looking feminine and cheerful.

The windows had been left open so the air could dispel paint fumes, but the night air was growing chilly. As Dee Anna rose to close the window above the kitchen sink, Dennis commented, "So, who's painting the wooden pumpkins on that bean bag game for the fall fest? And where are we going to find bright orange paint?"

"We could always send Chad back to the Ben Franklin" Marla said with a chuckle.

"Oh," said Pastor Dee Anna, thinking of the large stash of half empty paint cans she'd discovered in the basement a few days before, "I think I have just the perfect thing. Have any of you seen the orange closet in my bedroom?"

The others stopped talking to stare at her.

"There is at lease a half-gallon of that paint in the basement. It will be perfect for pumpkins."

Friday, August 21, 2009

I'm Employed...and We Heard from the VA

Well, friends and cyber neighbors, SingingOwl is employed!

Some of you know that I started a teeny tiny job answering the phone and doing some filing for a couple of hours on Monday morning for a small financial services firm. This has turned into a temporary, full-time position.

How long "temporary" turns out to be depends on several factors that are unknown as of this moment. It will be a few months, anyway. I am still answering phones and filing and doing some data entry, but I am also doing something creative.

The woman who owns the firm, MW, values education for her clients and others too. Several opportunities for this have opened up, and hopefully there will be more to come. I'm developing written materials (worksheets or handouts), advertising stuff, and power points to go along with the various topics in the presentations.

It is good to be doing something creative. It is also good to be working for a woman of great integrity and ethics. Also good to have a friend working in the office too (the one who recommended me for the job in the first place).

No, it's not "ministry" in the usual way we use the word. I'm still working on getting that going. But it is good to be employed!

Several times the boss lady has said something like, "I believe God is going to use the things you are learning here and doing for me for some additional purpose. Meanwhile, you are helping me." I hope and pray that she is correct about that!

And remember when we went to the Veteran's Administration for Ken to get an evaluation? Well, we heard from the VA service rep today. He told Ken that he is rated 100% disabled. This does not mean that he cannot continue his employment, this is just for Uncle Sam's purposes. How much money we will receive is unknown at this point. Ken should find out next Friday.

We hope this means we will soon be current on the mortgage!

Not exciting to be face-to-face with the fact that he is not doing all that well physically, but exciting to think the financial pressure may be easing soon.

Thanks to those who have prayed for us.

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

God Loves People

John 3:16-17 (King James Version)
For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life. For God sent not his Son into the world to condemn the world; but that the world through him might be saved."

God loves us.
You knew that, right? Me too. So why is it so easy to start thinking and acting like God is condemnation, or God is anger, or God is snobbish?

Last weekend we went to one of our favorite "Rendezvous" sites. (That's "rondy voo" as in fur-trade era playing), not a romantic tryst. I've posted about this site before. This is the third time we've been to this one, which is mostly a smallish group (20 lodges or so) of friends and friendly acquaintances. It is the place where I was asked to do something I never expected, the place where I baptized someone I normally wouldn't have, where I met The Mandolin Man, and where I took pictures of musicians in the twilight.

Each year we've been there we have been aware of God's presence in some way, particularly on Sunday in the little church service. This year was no exception. Something had subtly changed in attitudes towards us, not that they were bad before, but this time people were more relaxed. They remembered our names, talked about previous rendezvous there, admired little Trinity (who was with us without Mommy and Daddy and did fine). They also graciously welcomed Kevin, Ken's brother, like a long-lost friend.

This rendezvous was quite enjoyable partly because there were a number of really good musicians. The man who plays the washtub bass like a pro was there again, an old man who literally made music with a pair of spoons, another interesting guy who used a washboard for percussion (Zydeco style), a fiddler, and a couple of guitarists. Ever since the baptism experience, we are asked to have a worship service on Sunday. It's always interesting. This year several of the musicians agreed to play for Sunday worship.

They were a motley crew, I tell you! I wish I had a picture. (I would have except I forgot to put the memory card back the last time I used the camera.) Picture all of the people dressed in 18th Century garb.

The bass player plucked his one string, with facial expressions and body language that eloquently said, "I love making this music." He is extraordinary, and I can hardly believe the music he makes with a washtub, broom handle and one string. It makes me smile just to watch and listen to someone enjoy themselves so much in such a simple way.

The man with the spoons had a long, grizzled beard and his hard life showed in the deep wrinkles of his face. The one with the washboard was white-haired and smiling and wore red suspenders to match his voyageur-style red striped long socks.. The guy with the guitar, who loves Dylan songs, was younger.

They played and sang "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot," "I'll Fly Away," and "Keep on the Sunny Side." It might seem funny to think of singing those songs at a worship service, but they were very sincere. As they played Trinity smiled and clapped her little hands and bounced on her wooden camp chair. Others sang, smiled, or just nodded in time. Kevin sang from his wheelchair next to Trinity, wearing his late father's Stetson hat that he had flattened out "mountain man" style. A beautiful little girl with long blond hair sang and smiled in the front row, her boot tips peeking out from beneath the hem of her long skirt.

Something happened. I became intensely aware of God's love. Pure, unalloyed, constant--God loved the spoon player with the deep wrinkles who had probably imbibed too much the night before. God loved to see the washboard bass player having so much joy in his music. God loved the beautiful little blond girl, the cute black children who were dressed in fringed buckskin, the grandparents of the little boy who'd been baptized a couple of years ago. God loved the circle of simple worship. And God loved the ones who, in spite of our efforts and our friendly invitation, did not attend but stayed away, as they have each year, for reasons only they knew.

I wanted the simple moment, the simple and sentimental music, the blue sky and sunshine to go on and on. Truly, my spirit seemed to swell with a deep awareness of the boundless love of our Creator God to his fallible and fickle creation, humankind.

A chance jest from the organizer of the rendezvous, "No need to pray for _________, he's going to Hell no matter what" had turned into a sermon idea. I ended up talking about John 3:16-17. Several of the church attenders probably had little to no understanding of God's "good news." So I kept it very simple. I spoke of God's love and how so many of us think God is eager to condemn us--when the opposite is true.

Afterwards, the grandmother of the baptized boy (I don't know how else to identify him) came up to me and softly said, "Thank you so much" as she hugged me hard. I'm not sure what she was thanking me for, but I knew the Holy Spirit was with us in that moment. Her little grandson, now almost four, appears to be autistic and to have other problems.

Her husband, who tends to be bombastic, hugged me as well and joked, "That is the first time I ever hugged a lady preacher. I used to be scared of you. Maybe some of the holy will wear off on me." Another man quietly said, as he shook my hand, "Thanks for helping me think about God in a different way." Another said, "I liked your sermon. The only time I go to church is here or at other rendezvous. Don't misunderstand, I am a Christian man. I just don't like church. Thanks for making us feel welcome.."

Thank you, God for people. Thank you, God for being love--so amazing, so holy, so beyond finding out. And thank you, God, for the chance to share a simple sermon and to be reminded that you did, indeed, call me to preach the word. Send someone to water the seeds planted, to love, to smile, to be you in this world. Have your way in the hearts and life of each person who was with us last weekend. Continue the good things you have begun, I pray, for the sake of the Kingdom. Amen