Watch Night - New Year's Eve

I have been going to Watch Night Services since I became a Christian in the early 1990's. When Big Daddy was appointed to his first church and we were planning our first Watch Night service as a ministry couple, I found this article on the history of such services to be very interesting. After all, I grew up Roman Catholic, in the Northeast and then later moved to the West Coast, and I had never heard of this kind of service before. The article I linked is an essay by Charyn D. Sutton. The churches where I spent my early Christian years and discipleship were predominantly Caucasian, so I was particularly fascinated by the article. Watch Night Services are strongly rooted in the African-American church tradition, and are not unheard of within the Pentecostal Community overall.


We are within the Church of God (Cleveland, TN) denomination, and the practice seems common here in the Southeastern US. Our denomination was founded by several Methodists, among others. It seems that John Wesley had established this practice among the Methodists early on. Our sister denomination, The Assemblies of God, began with the Azuza Street Pentecostal Outpouring. That event was diverse, ethnically and socially, from the very beginning. I also add to those factors that Florida is near the Bahamas and Caribbean, with many immigrants from those areas. Some of those cultural influences have strong Christian practices and history. I was very interested to find that the The Moravian Church missionaries were the first to go in many parts of the world, including the Caribbean in the 1730's. The Moravian Church seems to be the first to hold Watch Night Services.

I also checked snopes.com, and they are skeptical about the portion of the first article I linked in regards African-American slaves being sold on New Years Day, as well as any other type of debt or financial transactions occurring on that day. Snopes had an email forward version of Sutton’s essay. However, the version they had was not completely the same and not even attributed to Sutton. So, you can do the research yourself if you like, and draw your own conclusions. It’s indisputable, though, that Watch Night became tied to the African-American community because of the Emancipation Proclamation in 1863.


Wikipedia says this:

“Many religious communities have a tradition of New Year's Eve being known as "Watch Night". The faithful of the community congregate in worship services commencing New Year's Eve night and continuing past midnight into the New Year. The Watch Night is a time for giving thanks for the blessings of the outgoing year and praying for divine favor during the upcoming year. Though held by some to have begun in the African American community, watch night can actually be traced back to a sect of Christians known as the Moravians who held the first Watch night Service in Herrnhut, Saxony, in 1732. The practice was later adopted by John Wesley, the founder of Methodism. Watch Night did take on special significance to African Americans on New Year's Eve 1862, however, as slaves eagerly awaited the arrival of January 1, 1863—the effective date of the Emancipation Proclamation. This particular New Year's Eve became known as "Freedom's Eve."”

Along with the prayers of thanksgiving and reflection, we do some other things in our service. We celebrate by taking Communion, and following Jesus’ humble example and washing each other’s feet, see here.

I pray that whatever you do this New Year’s Eve, you will take a moment to reflect on the past and the future and on the One who holds your life in His hands. Just as the slaves gathered in churches to pray for and await the news of their freedom, realize God has given us all a freedom in Christ.

Be safe and enjoy yourself.
Happy New Year!



Edited to add this link to Michael Benjamin's blog and a good piece he wrote about Watch Night, which contains Charyn Sutton's article now that the link in the first paragraph is no longer available.

Aviation Adventure

That's us before take-off


Big Daddy has wanted to go on a bi-plane ride for several years now. When we moved to the Keys he was glad to see bi-plane rides advertised at the local airport, just a stone’s throw away. I thought I would surprise him with a ride on it for his birthday. I was not planning on going with him. There are many exciting things I would like to do, however, this intimidated me. There is the obvious reason – being so high up in the air and in an open, exposed cockpit. The other reason is this: For past few years my equilibrium or something has changed. I cannot tolerate roller-coasters or the like. The movement, height, and speeds that go along with such things don’t agree with me like they once did. At one time I was able to go on such rides over and over again with no problem. Recently, even swinging on the park swings with my children makes me a wee bit dizzy. So I thought the bi-plane ride would upset my head and my stomach. I am so glad I was wrong! I thought you only live once; I may as well go with him for this ride. I was rewarded with a thrill! I would do it again, it was simply breathtaking. I highly recommend it. Our pilot was a character, a bit salty, but he did a great job. He made it thrilling enough for Big Daddy and not overly so for me. I think that Big Daddy was genuinely surprised and enjoyed himself. It was a blessing for us both and I thank God for the opportunity.



This is a view of the 7 Mile Bridge from above

Christmastime is here…

...And I love it! We have our lights up, our tree, our decorations and we are ready!


What’s your favourite Christmas movie? I love A Charlie Brown Christmas. On the other hand, The Grinch Who Stole Christmas used to scare the heck out of me when I was a child, and he still does. I am still uncomfortable watching it! I really like Rudolf the Red Nosed Reindeer, the old stop-action animated one where the characters are felt or clay. I like A Christmas Carol, too, but I can’t say which version I like best. I think that the movie The Nativity Story is one of my new favorites. Perhaps I am biased because of my faith, but I think it is a very well made, impeccably acted and visually compelling adaptation. I think anyone could appreciate it, even if they are not particularly religious. It’s directed by Catherine Hardwicke, who most recently directed the blockbuster Twilight. Check it out.

What’s your favorite Christmas music? I have so many favorites. Away In A Manger, O Come All Ye Faithful, O Little Town Of Bethlehem, Breath of Heaven by Amy Grant, Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas by the Pretenders, 'Zat You Santa Claus by Buster Poindexter, Little Drummer Boy by David Bowie and Bing Crosby, Put The Lights on the Tree by Sufjan Stevens, Ave Maria by Joan Baez….and of course, Christmastime is Here from the Charlie Brown special.


I will miss a few of the holiday traditions we enjoyed in Central Florida. Visiting Donelly Park in Mt. Dora, and enjoying the magical wonderland of lights and eating dinner at Vincent’s! Plant Street in Winter Garden was also lovely! I will miss driving by the decorated, old southern mansions in Oakland, some tasteful and some kitschy, but all a delight to the eyes. I will miss my dear family and friends there! I will not miss my dog-tired feet from working the retail craziness at Bealls, but I will miss my old co-workers. Last year I was so busy with my job and having some extra children in the nest, it was a very good Christmas overall, but a little crazy and stressful, too. God bless them (((J & T))), every~one!

I am looking forward to new traditions here in the Keys. I hope to visit the lighted boat parade in Key West. I have never seen a boat parade before, let alone boats with lights and decorations. That should be fun. I’m also told that the lights in the prayer garden of San Pablo are beautiful; I can’t wait to see them. We are having a candle light service on Christmas Eve. I look forward to some down time with my family, and to reflect on the season in a quietly joyful way this year.

Blessings, Ya'll!

Some Good Recipes

Coconut trees are not native to the Keys, I'm told, but they do thrive here. Our neighbor's son brought me a coconut from their tree. After googling a little I found a recipe from this blog. I used fresh grated coconut and sweetened it with a pinch of sugar and a teaspoon or 2 of apple cider. I used whole wheat flour. I also had only fresh bananas, and I think if they had been very ripe it would have been better. I usually have a few ripe bananas in the freezer, but I happened to be out of them. (If I have any bananas that are getting very spotty I simply put them in the freezer. Their peel turns black, but they are good for several months or so to use in breads, muffins, shakes and smoothies.)

Banana Coconut Muffins
from Epicurious

1 1/4 cups flour
1 tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp salt
2 very ripe bananas, mashed
1/2 cup butter, melted
2/3 cup sugar
1 large egg
1/2 tsp vanilla
3/4 cup sweetened flaked coconut

1. Whisk together the flour, baking powder and salt.

2. In a separate bowl, whisk together the banana, butter, sugar, egg, vanilla and 1/2 cup of the coconut.

3. Fold flour mixture into the wet ingredients, and mix just until combined.

4. Divide batter among 8 paper lined (or greased) muffin tins. Sprinkle tops with remaining coconut.

5. Bake at 375F for 25 minutes until golden. Cool on wire rack.


I have also been enjoying a new recipe for asparagus or broccoli I got from here. Wouldn't you just know that the Hippie Christian Family Message Board would have tasty veggie recipes?! (Check the board out, as it has just undergone a rejuvenation, and it looks so nice!) Anyway, I think I could eat broccoli every other day, it's my favorite vegetable. It was so nice to find a new recipe, with some of my favorite flavors. And it's simple! The first time I made it with asparagus, but I didn't toast the sesame seeds long enough. I toasted them for just a few minutes over medium heat in a small non-stick skillet. I also think I've been going a little overboard on the lemon, and might try going lighter the next time I prepare it.
Roasted Broccoli (or Asparagus) with Sesame Seeds and Lemon Butter
Serves 4 but is easily adaptable

1 pound broccoli florets
2 tablespoons olive oil
Salt and black pepper
2 tablespoons butter
1 teaspoon minced garlic
1/2 teaspoon grated lemon zest
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
2 tablespoons toasted sesame seeds

Preheat oven to 500 degrees.

In a large bowl, toss the broccoli with the oil and lightly sprinkle with salt and pepper. Arrange the broccoli in a single layer on a baking sheet and roast, turning once, for approximately 12 minutes or until tender.

In a small saucepan melt the butter over medium heat. Add the garlic and lemon zest and heat while stirring for about 1 minute. Let cool slightly and stir in the lemon juice. Place the broccoli in a serving bowl, pour the lemon butter over it and toss to coat. Scatter the toasted sesame seeds over the top.

I have a thing for Publix (a supermarket around here) brand raspberry iced tea. I wanted to see if I could come up with a home made version.

Raspberry Iced Tea
4 regular raspberry tea bags (I used Celestial Seasonings Brand)
Seedless raspberry jam or jelly
Sugar to taste, if desired

Bring tea kettle nearly to boil and remove from heat. Let the tea bags steep for about 10-15 minutes. Remove them and add about 2-3 tablespoons of the jam, stir into the hot tea until completely dissolved, you might have to warm up the tea a little to get the jam to dissolve. Add sugar to your taste. I like my sweet tea on the lightly sweetened side, so I use 1/2 to 3/4 cup sugar to a gallon of tea. Remember to use a little less sugar than what you normally like because the jelly will have plenty of sugar in it. After the tea cools a little longer, at least a 1/2 hour, pour into a gallon sized jug or container with a tight fitting lid. Add enough water to top it off. Shake. Refrigerate. Serve with ice and lime wedges. Enjoy.

I am delighted and blessed by things too numerous to count. Neighbors, coconuts, fair weather and stumbling across a good recipe and a good blog about food. Yum!

Let me know if you try these recipes and like them.

The World’s A Mess, It’s In my Kiss

I really want to get out of this gloomy rut, but circumstances won’t permit. I heard some really bad news yesterday. Several notions are jangling around in my head. I am trying to sort them all out and find a common thread in which to tie them all together and communicate clearly my recent feelings about life, death, love, family, faith and the world we live in.


“…no one is united all things are untied…”
First of all let me just say, the holidays can really suck for some people. I normally don’t like to talk like that. I strive to be erudite, but frankly there are times when the basic slang just fits better than anything else. When there is loss or pain regarding loved ones, the holidays can amplify it. This is especially true when it’s the fresh and raw pain of a recent bereavement or any hurt of a similar nature. That brings me to the bad news. It happens that a cousin of some dear friends of ours, Marissa* has lost her beloved husband to a tragic overdose. She has two young children. I cannot stop thinking about her. In my life and in the ministry I have witnessed many similar tragedies. All I can say is that my heart simply breaks for Marissa and I can’t imagine what they must be going through. I also can’t help but think of the people in my own family who struggle with similar addictions, and frankly it concerns me.


“…perhaps we're boiling over inside…”
Admittedly, I was already a little blue from grieving over the anniversary of my Dad’s passing. I was grateful for small mercies that week. I ended up not having to do jury duty. That same week my brother had either a mini-breakdown or a relapse and was hospitalized. Coincidence? Then the holiday came. My emotions were a bittersweet mixed bag from spending time with some family, and not spending time with others and trying not to dwell on any of it too much.


“…there are devils in many ways…”
Then there is the world news. The StuffMart* employee trampled by customers eager to grab a bargain in the early morning hours on Black Friday.
The mental picture of a two-year old smeared in his parents’ blood and wailing inconsolably near their dead bodies in the terrorist attacks in Mumbai haunts me. Equally troubling is the vision in my mind of the Korean woman who phoned her husband while she was a hostage, and was later found dead in that same string of attacks. To top it all off Natalie Holloway was likely sold for $10 grand to a man whose plans for her I don’t even want to think about.


So, pardon me for not feeling like a Hallmark Card or a Norman Rockwell painting this year. This world and many families are hurting. Greed and hatred are running rampant as are every other kind of hideous illegal or immoral action.


What are we to do in this pitiful and terrible world? What are we to do about all of the hurt so many of us are going through? I know what I’m going to do. I’m not going to lose hope. The Bible says to not be overcome with evil, but to overcome evil with good. The ultimate good is Jesus Christ, and the work He did and the things He taught. Even if I don’t actively practice evil like the terrorists, rapists and other nefarious persons in this world, if I give into hopelessness, depression, inaction or isolation I am still letting evil win.


I’m also going to realize what the Bible means when it says the little foxes spoil the vines. That means that even “little” sins like a bit of greed, some harsh and undeserving words, selfishness (and the like) all have their end in spoiling that which is good and noble. Those “little” sinful acts are the first steps down a slippery slope that makes one more susceptible to being capable of doing the big sinful things.


I am also going to really count my blessings. In that counting I’m going to remember that our lives are fragile. We never know when the last time we see someone we love might be. All of these tragedies with such unexpected deaths have reminded me of that. I say that not so we live in mortal fear and constant dread. I say it because I’m using it to remind myself to be a little kinder and a little more patient. I’d like to be more unselfish and forgiving. Neither myself nor my family is perfect, but it is the family I have been given. When I weigh the sum of how we act and interact with the weight of eternity, I want to say that I did my best. By the help and grace of God, which is not just a saying to me but a fact and a prayer, I want to be able to examine myself and say that I loved them good.


"...take it like a man..."
I want to accept the reality of family life this year, and embrace it rather than obsess over it. This year our Thanksgiving table was set for seven. In years past it was at least double that! I will not try to obsess over why or what has changed with the family. I will remember the many good years and family times, realizing that change is an inevitable part of life. I will celebrate this season that our family is in, and enjoy it as it is, rather than pine for what it is not. That would be futile. I looked around that little table and realized those were the people I loved the most in this world. That’s not to say that I don’t love so many others as deeply. Rather those present are the ones I’m most closely tied to, for better and for worse. Yes, I said “for worse,” which is how it is sometimes with family. Sometimes it feels like the love is not always reciprocated. I’m realizing that the bond of family is strong, stronger than our individual weaknesses. I myself have many shortcomings. I am struggling to get this plank of wood out of my own eye, I would like to be my “brother’s keeper” as much as is healthy and possible.


O.K., then! Now that I wrote all that out, I find myself not feeling so gloomy.
King David often started his psalms with cries of dispair, asking for help in trouble. He ended them in faith-filled words of resolve because he knew God in His mercy would prevail. I will echo that!
You have turned my mourning into joyful dancing.
You have taken away my clothes of mourning and clothed me with joy,
that I might sing praises to you and not be silent.
O Lord my God, I will give you thanks forever!*


Blessings~from e.b.


Song lyrics in red are from “The World’s A Mess, It’s In My Kiss” by X (the best Punk-Rock band ever)
*From Psalm 30

Memorial

In Loving Memory of F.C.D.
January 2, 1932 - November 17, 2000

And I heard a great voice out of heaven saying, Behold, the tabernacle of God is with men, and he will dwell with them, and they shall be his people, and God himself shall be with them, and be their God.

And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away. Rev. 21:3-4





The photo is of my Dad and I on my wedding day, it's one of my favorites. I picked the Bible verse because it comforts me, particularly in regards to this situation. I posted the Mills Brothers song because they were among my Dad's favorite musical artists. (Two other songs I considered posting, because they remind me of my Dad are Had A Dad by Jane's Addiction and I'll Be Seeing You, but I was looking for the version by Billie Holiday. The Mills Brothers seemed the best fit, I think my Dad would agree.) I can remember falling asleep to their records, as well as the Ink Spots, during the summers of my childhood. My dad would have the old cabinet stereo playing the records in the house. He ran a cord and a speaker out to the porch where he, my mom and their friends would be sipping martinis, chatting and laughing. Perhaps even playing cards, probably Pinochle. I remember feeling happy and secure. That was life back then.

My Ironic Jury Duty

I was called for jury duty on the exact anniversary of my Dad’s death. Those of you that know me intimately know why this is ironic. Since I don’t believe in coincidence, I will be curious to see if there is some divine purpose in this. I thought to write more about this situation but I am feeling at a loss for words and somewhat vulnerable right now.


The thing is, I have always somewhat welcomed the idea of jury duty. I know everyone else complains about it, but I have been curious to participate at least once. I was only called one other time. I was excused because I was rather far along in a pregnancy.


So, I am thinking about these things, considering the implications, and wondering how it will turn out.

A Rare Political Post

I really didn't want to get into politics much on this blog. Two things happened today that made me change my mind, hence this post.

I saw Barbara West's interview question to Joe Biden today on the news and the consequential fallout. Then later this afternoon I was reading another blog, The Daily Weaving. I am not saying anything else, other than to urge you to read that blog entry and watch the interviews with Barbara West and Joe Biden, then think about it with an open mind.

Notes from the End of October

I have applied for a few jobs. We'll see what happens.


Our computer died, so I am only online sporadically for awhile now.


Our bank account was broken into and money stolen. Fraud stinks. The bank will cover but it still stinks.

I finally joined myspace, after fearing it for years. I must say I like it so far, and am looking forward to the prospect of staying in touch with some folks a bit more regularly, it's easy there. I found several nieces and nephews on there and I'm pleased about that!

The weather is markedly cooler. I am staying busy with ministry related activities and will update later.


Oh yes, and Kirisuto/Garra won the contest. She will be receiving her prize soon(er or later). Thanks to all (Amy! Preacher! Garra!) who commented and participated!

Baby-Man

I have noticed a certain personality characteristic some men have that I call “Baby Man.” I have observed people with this personality type in various ages, education levels and socio-economic backgrounds. These types of people can be especially challenging to deal with, and it’s especially tricky to rally round the women who love such men. The range of hurt and frustration these women display is nearly as potent as the other more aggressive kinds of marital dysfunction. Inevitably the wives are the ones who have to deal with and suffer from their attachment to these man-babies.


A “Baby-Man” is a grown man who acts like a child. Many of these men are delightful and charming, and other than this, they are good and likable fellows. Nobody is one-dimensional, and I realize that these guys have other qualities, they are more than their immaturity, but that is difficult to catch sight of after awhile. I am not talking about folks who have an off day where they indulge their inner-child or occasionally act childish. I am not talking about those who keep a child-like wonder with life, or even have some kid-like or fan-boy hobbies. My mom jokingly says, “Fellas don‘t start to mature until 30.” There’s a bit of truth in that notion, at least in our little sphere of experience, and guys I mean you no disrespect. Lord knows we women have our own issues. How many of us grew up together as we walked through married life? I know Big Daddy and I BOTH have.


I am talking about grown men who have responsibilities and commitments, yet consistently choose to act as selfishly and irresponsibly as if they were in middle school. Have you run into the type? They flit from one job to another, each time claiming the next one is the one that’s really their calling in life. They claim the reasons their previous jobs and schemes didn’t work out is due to some other factor or person. The economy went bad, their boss or co-worker had it in for them, or some other explanation that is difficult to believe because year after year, it’s the same old story. Whereas some people learn from their past mistakes, growing and making gradual improvements, these people refuse to accept responsibility and make necessary changes. They stay stuck in adolescent fantasy. When describing their latest plan/job/etc., they have all the zeal of a spoiled adolescent boy describing and selling the latest gaming system to his parents in hopes they will buy it for him soon. That includes explaining how lame the previous one has become.


Their wives or partners suffer the fall out of a life in constant upheaval. They move often or change jobs often or often have troubles due to the baby-man’s short attention span and his constant appetite for another toy to play with or another distraction to occupy him. Often it leads to debt or bad credit. Unfortunately that appetite can often include infidelity - which is the ultimate betrayal these poor women suffer. Yet somehow, the Baby-Men always seem to garner sympathy from their partners because of the off balanced thing in their relationships.


What is that thing?


I’m guessing that often their wives’ or partner’s nurturing instinct overrides her wifely sensibilities. Women can naturally be more nurturing than men, and these kinds of guys use that to their advantage. If a wife were to really think about it, it’s kind of lame, un-sexy and un-natural to fall into a mothering dynamic with a husband. We are to take our vows seriously, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, honoring and cherishing each other. In healthy relationships, certainly that includes caring for each other and nurturing each other. These kinds of men are masters at taking that notion and running with it until it breaks any semblance of a caring, mature relationship and warp it into a life where they have a mama that caters to their every whim, indulges them like a spoiled child and sleeps with them. If she's not actually catering to her Man-Baby's whims, she's putting up with it, running flusteredly around cleaning up the messes the way a busy mom runs after an active and impish toddler.


When the Man-Boys don’t get their way, they make life miserable for their partner, and I frequently observe them employing the techniques I see children employ to get their way: Tantrums, running away, manipulation, bargaining, and pouting. At other times they are on their best behavior, this happens when they are wanting something or after they get caught doing something bad and they’re trying to make up for it. These Baby-Men remind me of that old Judy Brady essay, but I believe these men go much, much further. That essay was written in the early 1970s. Oh how the dynamics of relationships have changed since then! Our culture has changed as well, some things for better and some for worse. Many of the men I’ve encountered with this personality type are not the career-minded man of Brady’s essay. They shun work and school! They seem to want to sit around as much as possible and pay video games (or some other hobby) to excess, in that their families actually suffer financially or in other ways because of that. The first person they cater to in life, the person who’s utmost comfort is their primary concern is not their children or their wife, it‘s themselves.


I have often thought of the very plain and harsh words of St. Paul, here, regarding men who won’t care for their own. Isn’t real love* about each partner putting the other one first? Some very satisfying and happy marriages have been built on that notion. I know I read somewhere a beautiful saying about “love being patient* and kind, not jealous or boastful or proud or rude and it does not demand its own way.”


So what can these women who are partnered to baby men do? I know a few of them have successfully encouraged their man-babies to grow up. It wasn’t always easy for them, but they found boundaries they could live with and set them. I believe the Lord would have us spur each other on to be better people and when we see serious character flaws, they must be addressed and dealt with. “When I was a child, I spoke and thought and reasoned as a child. But when I grew up, I put away childish things.” It’s time to grow up!


*Sorry, i'm stuck on that song and threw it in.
*the love chapter

A Brown-Eyed American Girl Looks at 40

What can I say? I wanted to write something clever, insightful and funny about my milestone. But you know me. So, this will be more like a whining journal entry from an overgrown emo kid. I thank God I made it this far. I feel my 40 years and I’m at peace with them right now. When I was about 32 or so, I kind of freaked out a little. I suppose if you would have asked me then I would have said, I can’t see myself at thirty, I don’t want a lacquered thirty...Jefferson I think we're lost. I was overweight, unhappy about some things. My hair was getting more gray. For several years I had this single gray hair that grew in the same place and I could just pluck it out. Then came multiple gray hairs. I got highlights which was nice, they camouflaged the gray, until the day my hairdresser overdid it and fried my hair. I let it grow out and have not had it done since. Back then I even began to lie about my age, shaving off a few years. Can you believe it? A pastor’s wife lying about her age, well you know I didn’t get away with that nonsense for long. Then something happened, I began to consciously just try be happy with myself. OK, I wasn’t hard on other people who were chubby, flustered or fill-in-the-blank. So why was I so hard on myself? Yes, I could stand to lose a few pounds, but until I do, I am not going to beat myself up over it. It’s sort of like the Serenity Prayer, I was changing the things I could, accepting the things I couldn’t and beginning to seek the Lord for the wisdom to know the difference in it all. So I’m counting my blessings. I’ve had a good life so far. I was adopted by wonderful parents, I was given up for adoption by wonderful parents. I feel like I had a really happy childhood and not everyone can say that. I found a excellent man. He’s an honorable husband and a darn good father. We have our ups and downs, but overall I feel like we might be hitting our stride, and that feels pretty good. I have three children that are the absolute cat’s pajamas. I’m happy with my life. I’m still overweight, I’m still not quite the productive artist I’d like to be, but I know that I have been blessed and I know who has sent those blessings my way. Really, that is the key. Before I had a spiritual awakening, conversion, whatever you want to call it, I had no lasting peace or happiness in my life. Since that conversion, my faith, hope and trust are in Jesus Christ and that has made a difference for me. So I thank God for these 40 years and ask Him to help me live another 40 or so, and be a reflection of some of His goodness while He gives me the time. Some days I still feel like the scared and confused 14 year old who stood alone on her balcony listening to cars roll by, down on 441, like waves crashing on the beach (on US 1, really, I could hear the waves and the cars). How many desperate moments did I have then? Other days I feel like singing, Sha la la la....Sha la la la La dee da! One thing for sure I do not feel like an over forty victim of fate. Pardon me for sounding like a cliché, sometimes the lights all shining on me, other times I can barely see, lately it occurs to me, what a long, strange trip it’s been. I think what I realize more and more now, is just how little I do know, how much more I’d like to learn and do, and when my time is up, will my Heavenly Father be happy with what I’ve done? Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.


*for the first person to correctly name all the song lyrics and artists I referenced in the above post, there will be a free prize, a little peice of original art from yours truly. répondez s'il vous plaît.

Insanity, Procrastination & Change

One of Big Daddy’s favorite quotes is the following from Albert Einstein:
Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.
He uses this in his messages from time to time. He illustrates it by walking into a wall several times. Then he will finally stop and turn, or open a door. It drives the point home.

So, today, dear readers, I’ll let you in on a secret. From the biggest things in your life to the smallest, don’t expect any change for the better until you change. The “you” is “me” and I’m writing this to myself. God will send you help if you want to change for the better, but He expects some effort on your part. Only the smallest effort. A hand reaching up. A sincerely whispered, ‘I’m sorry.” A realization. Aha! But if you continue in your old patterns and habits, things will stay the same or get worse.

I will not be happy, completely happy until I pick up a paintbrush, or pencil, or charcoal or something REGULARLY and put it to paper! The dry spell won’t stop until I start. Doing. Regularly. Like. Brushing. My. Teeth.

What insanity are you striving to overcome?

I am also striving to floss daily. I hate it, but I know it’s good for me.

He was a good actor

Rest in peace, Paul Newman.

The Caylee Protest Melee

It’s difficult to live in Florida without being aware of the disappearance of Caylee Anthony. My Mom lives in Central Florida, where this occurred, and has been following the story in the news due to sympathetic concern. This story has also made national headlines, so the chances are fairly certain that many throughout the USA have heard about it. It’s a sad story and it merits our prayerful concern, to be sure. I am also concerned about one other aspect of the case. For many reasons, this has caught people’s hearts and attention in such a way they feel a strong need for a public demonstration. This case has provoked many people to gather daily outside the home of the Anthony Family. Some gather in support, and some in protest of the Anthony’s, see here. There have been yelling matches and shoving confrontations outside their home, and none of it has done any good toward solving the mystery of what happened to this little girl. I urge those who feel compelled to protest (or support) the family, to really think hard about what they are doing, and what possible outcome it could provoke. If they still feel obliged to react in public, please review and adopt the non-violent and peaceful methods that Gandhi, Rev. Dr. King and many others used in protests. They have proven to be just as effective, if not more so, than the shouting and hoopla that have so far characterized the Caylee protests. Granted, Gandhi and Dr. King were protesting major and grave social injustices. Their campaigns were successful. How much more successful could these methods be if applied to those gathering in sad unity and outrage over the possible kidnapping or murder of this child? I think very effective. Please consider that while the Anthony family does appear suspicious, they are innocent until proven guilty in a court of law. They are experiencing this loss and grief in a way most of us cannot imagine, and God forbid any of us should have to walk in their shoes. Please bear in mind that the entire neighborhood where the protests occur is impacted by the demonstrations. Many innocent bystanders are negatively effected by this, and they deserve consideration. How could the protest continue, but with the least amount of disruption to all of the neighbors? I beg the protesters to think hard about all of this. Why not adopt the non-violent and peaceful protest methods of Gandhi and Dr. King? If the point of protest is compassion for a little girl in peril, a silent and prayerful candlelight vigil is more productive than a messy screaming match. If the point is to show antagonism and suspicion toward the Anthony family, I believe a silent sit-in would be the most effective course of action. For those that suppose the Anthony’s guilt or compliance in the disappearance, wouldn’t a silent protest show that many are wary of them? Yet it would still be respectful of the grief that surrounds the entire situation, and show respect to the neighbors. Just imagine yourself in this situation - first as the Anthony’s, and then as the neighbors. How would you feel if this was going on outside your home and down your street?

E-mail Frauds, Forwards and Inaccuracies

PreacherPen had a recent post on his blog regarding an e-mail he received about Barack O’Bama. There has been an abundance of incorrect information going about these days via e-mails, blogs, and the web. The political season we’re in here in the USA has seen much buzz all over the internet particularly pertaining to the candidates. Before you pass on any sort of email forward, please check it and verify if it is true. My two favorite forward fact checking sites are snopes.com and truthorfiction.com. PreacherPen also has a good one linked in his post.

We got our first internet hook-up around 2000 or 2001. When people sent me email forwards, as they inevitably did, they were part of this whole new world opening up for me. I was so amazed by it all, I did not think very deeply about the forwards. I just passed them on. Some were funny, inspirational, or sad. Some were little editorials supposedly by well known personalities and pundits like Andy Rooney, George Carlin, and Ben Stein. Some were prayer requests, and some were chain letters. Some were warnings, petitions and newsy. My wake up call came when I forwarded this one particularly horrible and tragic story to a friend. She had the wisdom to gently ask me not to send her and forwards or stories like that anymore. It was too painful and upsetting, she said. And you know what? She was right. Even now, I shudder at remembering such a sad, disturbing, and true story. For an instant I was embarrassed of myself and then had an epiphany: Why in the world was I sending such stuff? I began to do research and discovered snopes. I finally made a decision to not forward anymore. The straw that broke the camel’s back for me was another forward for a gut-wrenching prayer request with a photo of a little boy. According to the verification sites, no such person ever existed and it appeared to be a random story with a random picture, a complete fabrication. Then I discovered that the petitions are also a fluke and I said no more forwards! I don’t think this helped my popularity with some, for I don’t get many emails anymore from some of the people who used to forward me things. I would enjoy hearing from them about their life. Give me an update on you, as I’d love to hear about what is really going on with you. Brag about you kids, complain about your boss, tell me about your vacation, whatever! Email me anytime and tell me how you are! On the other hand, some people, like my honest friend were alienated or annoyed by my penchant to forward ghastly and gloomy stories or “witness” to them with the inspirational forwards. For that, and to those people, I do apologize.

Occasionally there are a few good forwards going around. I’m not adverse to the occasional one, so long as it’s true and/or really, really good.

“And now, dear brothers and sisters, one final thing. Fix your thoughts on what is true, and honorable, and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable. Think about things that are excellent and worthy of praise.”

Hodgepodge vol. 3

Here’s an assortment of things I’ve come across, serious, funny, and interesting. Enjoy.



Advent Conspiracy

Cool Memory Game

I’m A Stay-At-Home-Dad

The Five Stages of Exhaustion

Beware of the Piranha Syndrome

The Oldness Factor

Zombie Shirt

Barak Roll

Tron Guy
I still respect & admire him after all these years, for letting his freak flag fly! God bless every fun and eccentric soul!

The Nest

In the late spring of 2007 God sent a mama bird to nest in one of my hanging planter baskets. I was able to gently take the basket off the hook and observe the nest. This was for me, a direct answer to a prayer. Let me explain why.

Earlier in the spring a person from an online message board community of which I was then an active member, posted of a similar experience. (You can read "Kingdom Minded's" original post here.) I remember reading his story with interest. I thought and prayed, “God, that would be so cool! I wish something like that would happen to me.” Imagine my surprise when it did - and only a short time later!

The children and I watched the light brown, speckled eggs, checking on them nearly every day. There were four of them. We observed them as they hatched and grew, the mama bird busily bringing her hatchings food. I suspect that they were house swallows, but I can’t be sure. Then one day she taught the four baby birds to fly in our backyard. In one afternoon, they went from shed to swing-set, patio table to porch rail, and back over their practice circuit again - and then they were all gone. It was a delightful and encouraging experience for our family.

At that time I was really, really busy and concerned about some things regarding our living arrangements. The Lord brought to my mind those Bible verses on birds and His Providential Care. We are not wealthy by the world’s standards, we don’t most of the latest and most popular things (and when we do they are gifts from relatives), but I felt so rich, that this little bird family had taken shelter under our porch roof, and the simple yet profound truths they taught me. This really, really blessed me, it literally stopped me in my busy tracks and reminded of all the little things that were important. It also made me feel very loved and cared for by my Heavenly Father. To have a prayer like that answered so specifically and quickly was a miracle for me. Now, I have witnessed God working miracles and healings, I know He does. But for Him to answer a “little prayer” I mumbled hastily and breathlessly about something that was not a big deal, or essential, well, it really reminded me of how a Daddy loves His child.

Notes from Mid-September

I have not posted in awhile. My heart & prayers go out to those in TX, LA, Haiti, Cuba, the Dominican Republic, Turks & Caicos, and elsewhere. I was merely inconvenienced by the storms and hurricanes, whereas these places, and the people who live there, are devastated.

Things have been a bit hectic with storms, evacuations, my husband working out of town and so forth. It is a bit overwhelming to have to handle family and church responsibilities all by myself, and I am glad my husband is back to resume his part in things. Frankly, the ugly tendrils of depression are trying to drag me down again, and by the help and grace of God I have been withstanding it. One of the first areas I seem to neglect when sinking, is anything artistic. As you may know my artistic talents are already hanging by an anemic thread. And this blog has been a bit of an artistic outlet, writing and journaling are helpful and somewhat cathartic in rekindling that part of myself. I had set up a little work area with a drafting table in my bedroom. I had begun to make some little sketches with pencil and paint. You know what kind of paint I bought? Tempera! Let the “inner child” play! Baby steps. It smells good the way Play-Doh smells good. Tempera is not widely used today like oils, acrylics and watercolor, but it gets the job done.

Cold Water

When we lived for a short time in wild, wonderful West Virginia, the little farmhouse we rented in the country had well water. In the middle of the summer when I would mow the yard, I stopped to use the outside spigot and hose to fill a glass of water. The water would be so cold it would make the glass fog. Very refreshing. Down here the water is never cold. Which isn't surprising when you realize it's piped in a hundred miles from the mainland, and the pipes are mostly above ground in the Caribbean heat. When I was a girl doing my “outdoor education” week in a camp in the mountains and forests of California, we had to take cold showers, there was no hot water. It was freezing! Summer before last Big Daddy nearly killed me when he took me on an 8 mile hike at a state park. On our way back we headed straight for the spring which is 72 degrees year round, and we peeled off our shoes and packs and jumped right it! It was delicious. Down here, though, you could bathe using the “cold” water only, and I’ll bet you wouldn’t even muster a goose pimple! Even the beach water is warm because it is so shallow. It’s odd, but I don’t mind.

Old Friends

This past June we celebrated our wedding anniversary. We didn’t do too much since we were gearing up for our move, actually we were right in the process of moving and it was also the last week of school for the children. Once we got to our new home, and were a bit settled in, my husband did something very sentimental that we hadn’t done in about 17 years. He cued up our wedding video on the VCR, and we all watched it. How young and happy we all looked! How bittersweet to see our dear loved ones that have since died. Our kids were delighted to see it. This got me thinking about our old friends who were such an important part of our big day, and our lives then. I was able to find a few that I had lost track of, and sent an email to the ones I haven’t contacted in a long while. The wonders of googling and yellow pages dot com, because I was able to track them down without much trouble. I love and miss them and this poem is for them:

New Friends and Old Friends
by Joseph Parry

Make new friends, but keep the old;
Those are silver, these are gold.
New-made friendships, like new wine,
Age will mellow and refine.
Friendships that have stood the test -
Time and change - are surely best;
Brow may wrinkle, hair grow gray,
Friendship never knows decay.
For 'mid old friends, tried and true,
Once more we our youth renew.
But old friends, alas! may die,
New friends must their place supply.
Cherish friendship in your breast -
New is good, but old is best;
Make new friends, but keep the old;
Those are silver, these are gold.

For those that have left this life, Daddy, Aunt Dolly, Aunt Teresa and Johnny you remain, forever to stay gold in our hearts.

The Upside of My Clutter-Procrastination Problem

Well, really there isn’t much of an upside to clutter or procrastination. Seriously. But here is one of the quirky by-products of my clutter/procrastination problem: I tend to put aside rolls of 35 mm film I have taken, and place them in a drawer somewhere rather than get them developed right away. Big Daddy will come across them, usually years later, and get several developed al at once. Then it was like looking at a time capsule and very fun! In the course of our move, we came across some of these, and one roll was from 9 years ago when we lived in Apopka!
This was from my garden back then:

Mama Said There'd Be Days Like This...

In honor of my darling babies who are visiting their Granny, I post this which they inspired. I wrote it sometime in April of 2008.

Warning: This post is sick. Vomit is discussed. Stop here and read no further if you have a weak stomach.


My morning (yesterday):

Get everybody up and moving for school. That means dressed, fed, & groomed (hair, face & teeth is my morning mantra). Adam had an 8:15 am doctor’s appointment for his Franken-finger (Frankenstein + finger = nasty bacterial infection). Calvin has to go with us, because Big Daddy is back to work (Thank God!). Big Daddy can see Flora off on her school bus, though. So we are on the road to the clinic which is about 15 miles away, and about 5 miles before we get there, Calvin lives up to his nickname: Up-Chuck. He has motion sickness. He has improved so much, and it’s been awhile since we had an episode in the van, so I didn’t have the towel and cup handy… Most of it got on his jacket. Adam rushes into the clinic to sign in on time. I clean Up-Chuck-up as much as possible. He is feeling fine and sits still for me in the waiting area. Thankfully we don’t have to wait too long. Perhaps the smell of our little group was instrumental in expediting our visit. I decide to stop at the pharmacy nearest to the clinic so Adam can get a dose of meds in him before I drop him off at school (he can’t miss anymore school). I pick up a few grocery items while I wait and write a check over the total amount, so I can have a little cash on hand. I pick up the prescription and head out. On the way to Adam’s school, Calvin throws up a little again, but we were prepared with a cup this time. After I drop Adam off I realize that the cashier never gave me my cash back. I get my receipt and call the number. I cannot drive all the way back there with a pukey child, in pukey clothes that I will have to load and unload out of his pukey car seat. At least when I was there earlier, Adam could sit with him in the van. I explain this, the lady from the store says she’ll count the cashier’s drawer to make sure, and call me back at home. I get home, clean out all of the pukey stuff from the van, you know you have to practically disassemble the car seat to remove the cloth covers, seat belt straps, etc. I get what I can into the washer. I run a bath for Calvin, who is very hungry now, of course. Bathe him, feed him, get him settled, resting and watching a movie. He is fine now. I am exhausted, though, and it‘s only 11am. My day begins at 6:30. Yesterday was quite similar to today. Yesterday was Flora having a melt-down. She was crying and freaking out before her bus came. She walks the dog in the morning and we play fetch with him a little while we wait for the bus. The dog got away from her, chasing after a bird and getting filthy in a muddy retention pond. Guess who had to catch the dog? Guess who had to wash the dog? Guess who got painfully scratched by the dog? Guess who was tempted, right then and there, to take the dog to the humane society? Then I had to rush off to a full day of errands with Calvin, rush home to plan dinner, do a few chores, and then get ready and go to my evening job. I was home at around 9:15pm which is surprisingly early.

It occurs to me, this is the kind of day they should use as an example for abstinence and birth control education. I’ve had many days just like this one, I'm sure most of you have also! My advice for the teen kids contemplating sex - don’t do it until you are READY for it, because it will lead to a life like mine. Smelling like puke and not enough sleep. Smelling like a wet dog and not enough sleep. And cleaning up the puke.
"Nausea, bloody red eyes go to nausea, bloody red eyes go to sleep...."

Sigh.

At one time I smelled like cloves and marigolds and cinnamon.

Songs for today:
Mama Said, Nausea, Middle of the Road, Once in a Lifetime

My mama, bless her heart, really never told me there would be so much puke. So I am telling you: you teens, you youngsters out there contemplating sex (I mean coitus), which leads to babies and children, realize there is a lot of puke that goes along with that!

I have been in my new home for almost two months now and so far, I like it. Some observations. There seems to be an unusually high percentage of dog owners here. Almost everyone has a pet dog, or pet of some kind, with birds and cats in a second place tie (?). I have found the people to be very friendly. I am putting off a job hunt until school resumes in August. I had some wonderful alone time this week, and really enjoyed it. I was able to visit a prayer garden at a local church.


I fixed some of my favorite foods, that only I like to eat. Penne with olive oil and garlic!

art and life

Picasso's Woman With a Crow
journal entry from 6/24/07

It occurs to me I have lived in my own kind of prison, in one area of my life, for many years now and I’m ready to come out of it. The source of this trouble goes back to my last year of college. I was so stressed out, guilty and ashamed of myself the last year of college, over 15 years ago! My school work suffered as I agonized over my Mom and Dad’s situation, the stress of finances, working and keeping it all together. I felt guilty for being a “lousy artist.” I still feel sadness mingled with embarrassment when I recall a horrible memory of an evaluation talk with one of my instructors, figure drawing, as he criticized my work. I never told anybody - teachers or classmates- all of what was going on, with the exception my roommate. That was a rather large factor in my less-than-spectacular quality of work. I look back now and the biggest impression I have of that last year of school is STRESS and WORRY. Stress and worry about my parents and their legal and financial problems. Stress and worry about doing my school work, meeting deadlines and balancing that with working as much as possible to support myself and pay for it. We lived somewhat of a double life because my Mom did not want us to tell anyone what was happening with my Dad, and you can still see my reticence in this to spell it out exactly. I remember a time a few years later, when I became a stay-at-home-mom(SAHM) after having Adam how relieved I was not to have to get up and go to school or work and be so engulfed by the stress of all that. I still felt enormous guilt for not pursuing an art career or even doing any art on my own, for pleasure or passion. I think all of that was wound so tightly into the way I was dealing with my family problems. I’d associated art and art-school with such negative feelings because it was the goal I had to slog through when my heart wasn’t in it for worry over my parents; and the huge financial strain it was to keep it going. Then it was the strain of continuing to pay for it in the form of student loans after graduation. I was growing and changing as a person with new priorities: motherhood and Christian Faith. I was resentful and embarrassed that I could not afford it. I was still dealing with the blow to our family in the form of my Dad’s tragic circumstances. Having to be there for my Mom and him, and even bear some of the responsibility of helping them, and feeling at times guilty and resentful (and feeling guilty about feeling resentful!). Then there was the worry and concern over my brother’s problems with addiction at that time and the way that touched our family. I was privately torn with guilt and vacillating over mine and my husbands’s passion for me to be a SAHM and our assurance of it being the right thing for us to do as Christian parents, and the fact that I was not contributing to our finances though the loans and other bills were my debts. We had severe financial problems due to stupid mistakes we made, and some even from my parents’ situation. I can’t tell you what a heartache and despair my Dad’s situation caused. It was the dark cloud that hung over all of our lives, effecting us in various ways. I can’t even go into all of that here. When my Dad passed away in 2000, there was no more carrying that burden, and grief runs it’s course. It was a sad and unfair situation, but there is no more to be done about it… The victim of the cruel circumstances, my Dad was gone, and the situation that ruled our lives for so long, went with him. I suppose there was a returning to ‘normal’? Big Daddy & I finally paid off my student loans, and that was a relief. I no longer lived in the state of guilt and anxiety I once did. I am ready to be free and do art again. Lord, help me start.

The Highwaymen of Florida

Landscapes by Harold Newton

There is a group of artists here in Florida known as The Highwaymen, or The Indian River School. You can read more about them here and here.
I think their story is worth reading and their work is amazing. Check it out. There will be a show and a mini-festival of their work beginning August 1st in Mt. Dora, Florida. Details here.

Keys Composter Project

Since we’ve moved I didn’t want to waste any time getting on those little projects that I wanted to do badly at our old home, but put off due to my procrastination problem. Composting is something I really wanted to get back into. I am not an avid gardener, more of a dabbler, I have a few outdoor containers that I have been nurturing and a some beloved houseplants. So the compost will be put to good use. In addition to my personal use, the church has two fair sized planters out front that I would love to plant with something attractive and inviting.

I did a bit of googling and using this as my guide, I got a composting bin started. Of course I enlisted the help of my faithful partner, Big Daddy. He was not thrilled about me doing this, fearing a foul smell and attracting pests. It seems simple enough, and so far does not smell. I haven’t composted in quite awhile, and when I did I was accustomed to using lots of leaf and grassy mulch in an outdoor heap or pile. This will be a bit different. I was also interested to read that I can use washed-up seaweed or sea grass down here. I keep a large, old, plastic coffee can near my kitchen sink. I place my kitchen composting scraps in it and once a day, I send the kids to empty it in the bin, or do it myself.

Turning the Other Cheek

I read this post on a blog today. Please check it out, for my post here to make sense. I wanted to post a comment over there but I hesitated about what to write. I wanted to show the right amount of encouragement, understanding and compassion, because it struck a cord with me personally. First, let me say I was never punched in the face like that. I was verbally abused and insulted by a person in my neighborhood. My oldest was about 7 and had been riding his bike around the block. He was chased by a large dog. It scared him but he wasn’t hurt. I put my toddler daughter in the stroller and had my son show me where it happened. I walked frequently throughout our neighborhood and I never saw any dogs that worried me, but there were a few in fenced in yards. I wanted to let the owner know their dog was loose. As I approached the house my son showed me, this woman came from the front porch, she was talking on the phone, but stopped and yelled at me, “Get your fat [expletive] home, I told your kid the dog wouldn’t hurt him!” I remember being stunned, since it had been a really long time since I was cussed out by someone face to face like that. Probably not since I was a teen. When this happened to me I was a minister’s wife, and a stay-at-home-mom, so I had not been around such crass behaviour in a long time. Now, I worked as a bartender and a waitress many years before that, so I have witnessed similar behavior before, just so you know, but when this happened I was quite insulated in my own little world, and it sure jarred me out of it! I was shocked for an instant. The next second I even felt like crying, which quickly passed. Then I was seething, literally, with anger. I could feel the adrenaline coursing through me. I wanted, in the flesh, to chew her up and spit her out and tell how low I thought she was. Instead I said something like, “Ma’am I wasn’t sure if you knew your dog was loose, and it did scare my son and I thought you should know.” It took every ounce of self-control I could muster to keep myself in check as I turned around and we walked home. I felt so humiliated and hurt. And angry, of course, very angry. In front my of my children! This woman cussed and insulted me in front of their innocent ears. I don’t think they ever saw adults acting that way before that. Whoever made up the “sticks and stones” chant many of us know from childhood was wrong. Calling people names can and does hurt. I knew my son was watching my response and I knew he was also upset and angry. When we were home I explained to him, because we’re Christians, we must never lash out in anger against someone who has lashed out at us. This was a prime example of Jesus’ teaching on turning the other cheek. Like Christian-the-blogger wrote in his piece, I was also compelled to feel pity for this person. How sad her first instinct was not to care for a fellow human, a child, or to engage in kind of peaceful discussion, but to lash out hatefully. Instead of being responsible and considerate in her little corner of the world she acted maliciously. People who are that miserable and hateful are to be pitied. So, I was able to use this situation to teach and reinforce some good virtues, that surely would have been lost if he witnessed his mom in a screaming match or cat-fight. I knew my son was upset, but he seemed to understand my explanation and accept it. A few years later when I was teaching a youth class at church, which my son happened to be in, I was able to use this as an example to them of how important it is to react peacefully, as Jesus would, rather than repay an insult for an insult. I think he understood it all better then. My heart goes out to Christian-the-blogger, I can imagine that a punch would have amplified my feelings, and I commend him for keeping a level head and a Christ-like attitude. It’s very difficult, but essential for a anyone who calls themselves a Christian to not repay evil for evil. I think God allows these things to happen to us so that we can see exactly where we are in of faith-walk with Him, and also to know what it’s like to suffer, as Jesus did. This helps us to understand the depth of what He did when He suffered and died for us, and it helps us to be compassionate to others who have suffered, because we know what it’s like.

Hot Messes, Nonsense and Foolishness

I am a fan of the TV show Clean House, which runs on the Style network. The premise of the show is this: A family who is bogged down by clutter and messiness either nominates themselves or is nominated by a friend or family member to have their house cleaned up by the show’s crew. The Clean House crew comes in and cleans and reorganizes - getting rid of many old things and re-decorating a few rooms. What struck me so strongly when I began watching the show is how many people are tied to their things. I was amazed by how people knew they needed help with their mess, their homes were quite out of control. Yet they would often cling so tightly and be so reluctant to let go of things that were clearly of no use to them anymore. Some things were dirty, worn out, old. Some things represented a time in their life that was long past, and sometimes even painful. Many are things that are in good shape but no longer used by the people possessing them. Yet they stubbornly cling to them and refuse to let go. The spiritual implications are there. I could preach a little sermon on that, but that’s not what I’m going to talk about today. What I am going to talk about is how much I am like those people on the show, and have been carrying around clutter for the past 18 years. By the help and grace of God I am learning to get rid of it. Why do I have to have these things? I am beginning to get to the root of it. I have an old sewing machine that is in a huge cabinet, it is in great condition. My Father gave it to my Mother as a gift in the late 70’s or early 80’s. She barely used it, but we toted it across the country with us when we moved. When my Dad purchased it, it was the top of the line model with all the bells and whistles. Years later my parents found themselves in difficult times and they lost many of their possessions. But one year my Dad made a point of giving me the sewing machine because I was creative and liked to play around with it when I was a girl. In like manner he & my Mom gave my brother their expensive Kitchen Aid mixer because he was a chef. Soon after they gave these things I took a sewing class, but truthfully I barely used the thing. My Mother-In-Law, who visits me once a year uses it more than me. She has helped us make church banners, she made baby bedding sets for her grandbabies and curtains for her children’s homes with it when she visited. I would have liked to have used it. I always thought and planned to use it in the future, but guess what? I never did. A few weeks ago on the HCBB a member posted about wanting to buy a used sewing machine for a friend who was a very gifted and productive seamstress. I was shamed, because for the first time it dawned on me that I was holding on to something I don’t use or need and someone who could be fabulous with it, could be and should be using it! I am actually being selfish. I am actually just as bad as the people on Clean House who befuddle me! Same goes with baby and kids clothes that I tend to hold on to, but have been gradually getting better at giving away over the years. When my oldest was a baby we were so financially strapped and were blessed to receive many gifts of clothes and many wonderful hand-me-downs. If those generous people were as manically tied to their children’s old things as I was, our child wouldn’t have had all the necessary clothing. How can I hold on to outgrown clothes when there are other children who might need them so badly? I can’t anymore. It seems so crazy and senseless, but it was easier for me to see it in other people than in myself. I think I was so tied to these types of things because I tend to have a sentimental, melancholy personality. I also inherited some pack-rat tendencies from my parents. I also think that the sewing machine was a gift from my Dad and I felt like I would somehow dishonor his memory by giving away a gift from him. The sewing machine also somewhat symbolized the good and prosperous times in his and my mom’s life. But really, I think my Dad would be happier to see me travelin’ light, and as generous as he was, to see someone else put it to good use. So, thanks to the Good Lord for showing me that my nonsense and foolishness was just as bad as the people who stunned me on Clean House. And thanks to the Clean House cast for making the show so entertaining, funny, helpful and insightful.

If I Don't Play Piano, Sing In the Choir or Teach Sunday School What Do I Do?

Is it selfish that I am not completely immersing myself in ministry and related things here at the new church? What I am immersing myself in is getting back into creative and other interests of mine. However, I find myself feeling a little bit of guilt. I became a Christian sometime in 1993 and followed right along side my husband as he received a calling on his life; accepted it and held various ministry positions (as did I) and ultimately he became a pastor. During that time I felt like my main focus in life was family first, and then always something to do with ministry, and I loved it. I just feel that I am in a different mode right now. I have felt a growing conviction over the years that it was time to use whatever artistic talent I had as a ministry of sorts before I got any older. (Use it or lose it, baby!) So here I am. I have not done anything much as the Pastor’s Wife, and don’t plan to until I’m absolutely sure God has called me to it. I do feel sure God has called me to start doing art again, and so I will. I’m not sure where that will lead and how it will go but I’m glad to do it. I look at our other ministry friends and read the blogs of other Christians and see how on fire they are and how focused they are on being missional, outreaching, with missions to inner cities and/or other countries, being prayer warriors, evangelizers, etc., and I wonder about myself. Am I missing it? Did I get burnt out and grow so cool I can't or won't do my part to be God's hand of mercy extended? It seems so selfish to do something that isn’t direct spiritual warfare or for the greater good of others. Of course I can always do both creative things and ministry things and there will be times where that blends and overlaps. It’s just that now I feel a time to pause from the one to reclaim the other, if that makes sense. So, that is what I am reflecting on these days.
If I Don't Play Piano, Sing In the Choir or Teach Sunday School What Do I Do? Draw, paint, plan, cut, paste, photograph…

Portable Outdoor Clothes Dryer Project

This is not such a novel idea, people have been using these kinds clothes drying contraptions for years. My dilemma, if you can even call it that, is three-fold. First, I wanted to air dry my clothes outdoors to save money and resources. Secondly, I didn’t want to have to walk up and down 19 steps every time rain threatened, which is fairly often. Lastly, I also was a little shy about drying our unmentionables in our dear buddy Fred’s* front yard. See, his front yard is our back yard. I’m funny about that, bashful I suppose. I asked Big Daddy if my idea would work, and he thought so, so here is what we did. We went to the local hardware/home improvement store and bought: 1 five gallon bucket, one outdoor ‘umbrella-style’ clothes dryer, one bag of quick-set concrete and one PVC pipe (only slightly larger than the base of the clothes dryer). Now I will be able to dry my clothes right on my sunny back deck which is next to the washer and super convenient. I can keep the unmentionables discreetly on the house side, and in the interior of the dryer. I can remove the clothes dryer when not in use, and replace it with my beach umbrella, and have some shade. I can move the base around if I need to, or rather Big Daddy or Adam can, since it weighs about 70 pounds!

1. What you will need

2. Drill hole in the bottom of the PVC pipe and place a piece of metal or wood to anchor it to the bottom of the bucket.

3. Mix concrete and pour in bucket

4. Let cure for 24-48 hours

5. Assemble clothes dryer and place in bucket and use!

There are 2 sections of pole from the clothes dryer assembly that I don’t need to use, you can see them on the deck in front of the bucket. When the dryer is anchored in the bucket, you probably won’t need them unless you are tall!
Edited to add:
I used it for the first time today. It is a windy day and it blew over, so I will have to find a way to make it more secure. I am thinking of using bungee cord or a ratchet tie down and

keeping it in the corner, and anchoring it to the deck railing and around the dryer pole. Any suggestions?

Love Letter to Florida

I am humbled, awed and amazed by God’s goodness and favor toward me. I’ll tell you why, it’s simply this, because God moved me here to the Southern most tip of the great state of Florida and the continental USA, and I love it. I was driving Flora to her horseback riding lessons, viewing vast expanse of the Atlantic Ocean on the one side of me, and the Gulf of Mexico on the other and thanking God. The colors of the sea were aqua and emerald, depending on the depth, the sunlight, and weather or not there was sand or sea grass below. Here and there the vast expanse of ocean was broken up by a small mangrove island or a sail boat. Otherwise there was only ocean on either side, shimmering on and on towards a faraway horizon that was yet another shade of blue. How did it happen that He allowed us by His Providential Hand (and His ministry purpose for us) to come to such a paradise? I feel so blessed. Humbled. And something akin to survivor’s guilt.

Now you will have to pardon me while I brag about Florida. I think that all of Florida, despite the palmetto bugs, mosquitoes, fire ants, strip malls, cookie-cutter subdivisions, etc., is a bit of paradise on earth. I have loved and appreciated the beauty of the various places I’ve lived: Pennsylvania, Northern California, West Virginia. I’ve been awed by the places I visited while traveling across the country twice when I was younger. Florida, though, holds a special place near and dear to my heart. I hated her at first. I wanted to get back “to my city by the Bay” when I first moved here frome there. My old best friend T (who was not impressed with Florida) once told me the reason I liked it so much was because I had good things happen here, chiefly meeting and falling in love with Big Daddy. Of course her point has merit. I know where and when I fell in love with Florida, though. It was when I first began canoeing down the Wekiva river as a teen. I felt my heart softening towards her though a couple of years before that. Sometime during my misspent youth I was trying, along with a friend, to see some punk rock rated R flick *. Of course, my friend was able to purchase her ticket and get in to the rated R movie without a hitch. I was flatly turned down and had to buy a ticket for the movie Cross Creek which was also playing. Turns out Cross Creek was a great movie, a real jewel, and though I probably denied it then, I loved it. The Florida background of the movie is as important a “character” in that movie as the actual main characters were, in my opinion, much in the way that the musical score and soundtrack is essential to Cameron Crow’s movies. Sometime after that, I acquainted myself with Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings’ writings and was smitten with both her work and the Florida locales that are so predominant in her works.

Back to the first time I canoed Wekiva - I was impressed. I was enthralled. It’s a mostly shady trip - huge oaks dripping with Spanish Moss make a canopy over the river. Banana spiders spin their large webs overhead, doing their natural pest control thing. There are cranes, turtles, fish, and on rare occasions, a small alligator or water moccasin. One can expend all the energy that is necessary to maneuver one’s canoe upstream on a warm (or hot!) Florida day and then refresh oneself at the end of the run by dipping into the cool blue-greenness of the Wekiva Springs. Then it’s all easy gliding back downstream to Wekiva Marina. It’s a lovely and easy run by which to initiate yourself with canoeing. As I began to visit, canoe, hike and swim the local springs, state parks and beaches of Florida I came to love and appreciate my adopted home state more and more. And there is still so much of this state that I have not yet seen. I hope to explore my new locale and truly occupy and enjoy the life and time the Lord has given me here, and fulfill whatever His purposes are in this time and place!

*By the way, as best as I recall it was Surf Nazis Must Die, but internet movie database tells me that it came out in 1987, which does not fit my time line.

Hodgepodge 2

Cardboard Testimonies

You will need the tissues.



more cat pictures

Hodgepodge

I have posted a few interesting links for your reading pleasure. They are a hodgepodge of things interesting, serious and humorous. Enjoy.

Emma Spaulding Bryant letters

from here.

A fascinating collection of letters written by Mrs. Bryant to her husband during the summer of 1873. I know it sounds rather dry, but begin to read one or two of them and I think you will also be fascinated by the dynamics of their conversation. They are not very long.

Funny Image

Five Dangerous Things You Should Let Your Kids Do

I think he makes a really good point, and I feel like I have been a bit too sheltering and protective as a parent myself. So, it’s a good reminder.


I really enjoy the TV show Lost. This trailer will update you on what’s been happening lately.
Previously On Lost

The above were found here.


10 Things Information Technology Workers Want Users To Know From here.


10 Reasons I Wish I Could Be More Like SpongeBob Squarepants from here.


And finally this one is for Big Daddy. Happy Anniversary, baby.

Movin' On

My goal was to do one post a week, but I have not done that lately. We are in the process of moving and when I get set up in our new location, I will begin again.

This is not only a hectic time, but an emotional one. Our 'old church' is like family, and was so much a part of our daily life. It was our first pastoral position, and we were there seven complete years. I say “our” because even though Big Daddy was the pastor, his family labored in that vineyard right along side him. We all certainly will miss our dear, dear church family at Harvest. We are also moving away from our relatives. That will be difficult since my Mom and brother are local as well as Big Daddy’s brother and his family. His youngest sister and her family also live nearby, however we are estranged from them. It is unfortunate that this move will likely advance the estrangement rather than remedy it. Then there are our neighbors, co-workers and friends - so many good people to miss! They all have been a blessing to us, making our lives interesting, colorful and fun. We look forward to the change, the new life, the new ministry, church and home, but it is bittersweet. These are the things I have been thinking about. I will miss swimming in the local springs, canoeing down the rivers. I will like swimming and canoeing in the gulf and the Atlantic, though. So, Big Daddy really is my moving buddy, and has been many times. We have lived in our current home for about eight years and that is the longest I personally have lived anywhere in a single location. I hope to put down some roots in the keys, I like sand between my toes! Will I grow best in sandy soil? Stay tuned.

Happy Places, Happy Faces

"My happy place"

"I found my moving buddy"


Big Daddy and I have been together so long we have a few little inside jokes between us. That comes from a few shared experiences. When our oldest child was little we had to watch Toy Story many, many times. There are two quotes we say to each other. The first is, “I found my moving buddy.” If you know the movie as well as we do you recall that this is said by the character Bo-Peep, after she and all the other toys witness a cool stunt soon after they meet Buzz. We say this to each other when either one of us is particularly pleased with the other. The other quote is when the character Hamm(?) is scared or nervous and he keeps repeating, “Find your happy place, find your happy place!” to himself. Whenever we see a nice bit of scenery, or find ourselves someplace nice and relaxing, I tell Big Daddy, “This is my happy place.”
Naturally that's what I thought of when I saw these two photos we took recently in the Keys.