Fave Verses Fridy Five

I'll try to get back to this little blog for more than the occasional Friday Five. Meanwhile...

Songbird says this today, "For today's Friday Five, list your five favorite passages/verses from the Bible and tell us something about why you love them." I have so many--hard to pick just five!

1. Phillipiand 3:19 But my God shall supply all your need according to his riches in glory by Christ Jesus.

My mother shared this verse with me, when I was about eight years old and struggling with an issue related to my low vision. She told me about how I was born sooner than I should have been, some of what resulted, and some of her concerns with the little baby that was me. Then she told me about the morning she prayed for me and believed God gave her this verse as assurance that I was in bigger hands than hers. The conversation stayed with me, making quite an impression. God's supply of riches is much greater than I can imagine!

2. II Timothy 3:15 Study to shew thyself approved unto God, a workman that needeth not to be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth.


I memorized this verse (King James Version, of course) in Jr. High.

Here it is in the New Living Translation. Work hard so you can present yourself to God and receive his approval. Be a good worker, one who does not need to be ashamed and who correctly explains the word of truth.


I attended a Baptist school from grade 7-12, and seventh graders took a "Bible" class one day a week. Our teacher chalked this one up on the board as one of our weekly memory verses. I didn't know it when I was 13, but this scripture was to become a guide to me for much of my life. I was amazed that God was pleased with my study. I had a deep desire to please God, and even though I now understand that my views were rather heavy on law and light on grace, the desire was genuine. The scripture sank in. It's why today, nearly half a century later, I deplore the lack of study that I see in the church, the lack of learning to think about scripture, to take that "rightly dividing" part seriously. We evangelical charismatic types are too fond of our superstars, of sound bites, of nice-sounding positive phrases. God is not pleased with sloppy exegesis....oh okay. I'll get off my soapbox now.

3. Psalm 91:1-4 Those who live in the shelter of the Most High will find rest in the shadow of the Almighty. 2 This I declare about the Lord: He alone is my refuge, my place of safety; he is my God, and I trust him. 3 For he will rescue you from every trap and protect you from deadly disease. 4 He will cover you with his feathers. He will shelter you with his wings. His faithful promises are your armor and protection.

As a young wife and mother I spent a horrid December night in fear that my beloved husband was going to die. It was unusually cold, a bitter -25 or so outside, and the wind howled and the snow blew, matching my mood. Ken was seriously ill in the hospital. I was at home with the children and it was the wee hours of the morning. I sat upright in bed, sleepless and terrified, trying to pray, crying, trying to tell myself I was being silly...trying to get sleepy. I pulled out my Bible and read the 91st Psalm again and again. The powerful comfort of these verses were what got me through the night and helped me begin to experience some peace.

4. Psalm 150


5. Gal.3:28 There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, neither male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.

I once remember thinking, "When did they put THAT in the Bible?" A life-changing verse for me. I have to head out the door, so I can't explain why, but I suspect you already have a good idea.

Time to Get Up and Play the Friday Five

Where I am it is dark, and it is cold, and it is snowing. I really wanted to stay in bed with the electric blanket cranked this morning. Share five things that made getting out of bed worthwhile for you today!

1. The cat. I don't know if she exactly makes it "worthwhile" but about 6:00 a.m. she starts hurling herself at the bedroom door as if the house is on fire. She is a very quiet cat, most times, but in the a.m. (if the door walloping fails) she meooooows and yowls in the most pitiful manner imaginable. If I didn't know better, I'd think she was dying. I can only stand it so long, and then I must get up. It's a great motivator, all things considered.

2. The coffee. Brother-in-law Kevin usually is up well before the sunrise. He is a coffee fiend, so he usually has the second pot brewing by the time I pry my eyes open and finish feeding the cat. Sometimes, now that he knows I am not a morning person, he even pours my cup of coffee while I am feeding the cat, bless his heart.

3. Someone has to turn the thermostat up around here, or we'd all freeze and they would find us about April. Husband Ken would be happy to leave it at fifty degrees year round, but...did I say it is COLD and snowing here?

4. If it is a tough morning, I recall the words of Gospel singer, Lillie Knauls, who sang at my husband's ordination service years ago. She says that each morning she throws the covers back and asks (loudly and with enthusiasm), "What exciting thing do you have in store for me today, Lord Jesus?" Lilie is single. She can get away with that happy crowing in the a.m. Me, not so much. I recall the words. I don't say them aloud, and I never throw the covers back unless I'm late, but I THINK them, and often that is enough to help me get moving with a good attitude. I mean, seriously, each day of life is a gift to be treasured.

5. This doesn't happen every day, but often enough. Ken doesn't like to cook unless it is over a camp fire...or is BREAKFAST. He really makes the most delicious omelets, full of onions and peppers and olives and cheese and who knows what else. Smelling his breakfast offering, along with the coffee, makes getting up seem like a very good thing to do. Even when it id snowing and the floors are like ice and I didn't get enough sleep. Bacon...gotta love it.

How about you?

Tom Brokaw on a Return to Civility

And here I thought having my feet firmly planted in the middle of the road was a dangerous place to be. Turns out I may be just the kind of person we need in this country. Newsman Tom Brokaw thinks so.

Is it possible for the two sides of the aisle, Republicans and Democrats alike, to find common ground? If not, all of us in this country will be the poorer for it.

I recently read a Facebook comment from a liberal who attended a rally for our new Republican governor. It said, "It was scary even standing close to those people."
Those people could easily have included my husband and many of our friends. He is not a wild-eyed whacko. He is pretty conservative (more than me, to tell you the truth), but also a reasonable and caring individual.

And then I received yet another ____________ (expletive deleted) email that claimed Obama is the Anti Christ.

It is not possible for us to move ahead if that sort of nonsense, from both sides, continues. Can we start a movement for a return to civility and moderation and plain old good manners? Can we start with parents requiring these things from their children? (Yes, I guess that is a whole different issue, but I do think it's part of the problem.) Can we just think things through and not regurgitate sound bites?

Well, here's Tom Brokaw on the Today Show if you re interested.

Trinity is Four Years Old Today

Some of you may remember some of these pictures...

Just a few seconds into the world!

Four Generations

About to have the joy of dedicating her to the Lord

Bedtime

Two Halloween Fairies

How Does This Thing Work?

And Trinity Today!

What a joy and blessing this little one has been to her Papa and me! Four years ago today I was driving to the Twin Cities as fast as possible. Mommy was in labor for a while, but didn't go to the hospital quite as soon as she should have...and T. came into the world before Dr. arrived. Very exciting!

She is turning into a lovely little girl, very talkative (wonder where she got that from?), very polite, a lover of music and words (wonder where she got that from?) and seems to be good at numbers too. Today she is at our house while Mommy makes some changes to turn her room into something for "a big girl" but there's a sledding B'day party tomorrow with several of her friends. There must be some advantage to having a January birthday and living in Wisconsin! Oh yeah...snow! And a snowman birthday cake. And sledding. Yep.

A Friday Five for the New Year

I'm hosting the Friday Five today over at Rev Gal Blog Pals. I'm not a big fan of New Year's resolutions, but it does seem a good time for some reflection and planning. For the last few days I keep thinking of Psalm 90:12 So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom. Among other things, that seems to say that reflection is in order if we want to learn and grow.

For some of us, this has been an incredibly difficult year; for others it has been a year of many joys. For all of us, there have been challenges and questions and there have been blessings and--maybe even an answer or two! As we say our goodbyes to 2010 and look towards 2011, share with us five blessings from 2010 along with five hopes or dreams for 2011.

1. All of us were relatively healthy in 2010. Since I live with two people who have daily struggles with chronic disease, this is a blessing! I hope and pray for continued blessings of health for my family. Boring answer, but the first one that comes to mind!

2. I am blessed to have my daughter's family nearby. When I married, it wasn't long before I moved to the opposite coast, and then it was moving hither and yon for a long time. We never lived near our families--I know, I know--this can be a blessing. But in our case, there was a void. I was sad that our children never knew what an extended family could be like, because we saw family very seldom. It is a great joy to be able to drop in for coffee, to see our beautiful granddaughter, Trinity, on a regular basis, to know our son-in-law. It has been a difficult year for them financially and we all are unsure what our futures hold when it comes to employment, ministry, etc. but whatever comes, I hope it comes in such a way that we don't live far apart!

3. I finally started writing in earnest. Not just talking about it, actually doing it. The bad part is that I have been unable to focus much on it, especially lately. So I hope to do better about taking this endeavor seriously in 2011.

4. I was blessed to be employed. So many people in our area are really struggling financially. I know what a good thing it has been to work, to have a place to go, to contribute something worthwhile, to meet people I would not have met otherwise. My deep longing is clearer direction about whether I should continue to hope and look for ministry opportunities--or whether I should just seek to be content as I am. This has been a deep struggle for me this past year, and I want to have a right attitude about it all.

5. I am deeply grateful for continued blessings that, once upon a time, were doubtful. These are many, but a few are: vision, my husband and family, a house, friends, thoughts, songs, dreams. For the New Year I want to be more mindful of these things, to make each day, each moment, count. I have so much...thanks be to God!

Prison Christmas 2010

I've written before about our prison Christmas services. If you are interested, just click on the prison link below and you can see more about visits there.

This year, Father Joe was there, as usual, to do the Catholic Mass. I sat in the back to listen, as I usually do, to some of the Catholic service. He has a wonderful voice and it was enjoyable listening to the scriptures from Isaiah. I was cheered by the enthusiasm of one of the inmates who sat near the front and gave the usual responses during the liturgy with great enthusasm. His joy might have surprised some of my Evangelical bretheren who assume that memorized responses are necessarily devoid of feeling. Sometimes, no doubut--but not always. At one point Father Joe told the assembled inmates, "I keep coming here every year because it is the highlight of my Christmas." Father Joe is 71 and tends to a very large parish not far away. He looked tired.

The Christmas decor at the prison chapel was relatively tasteful this year. (Such is not always the case--some who have read here before may recall my writing about how one year the drum kit on the platform was festooned with flashing strings of lights.) Men arrived dressed in the usual ugly greenish brown t shirts, some in grey sweatshirts, drab green baggy pants, green coats with the initials of the prison stenciled on the back. No "gay apparel" here.

Some sport long beards and long stringy hair. Some have neat cornrows in their hair. There is the young-looking, smiling black man who told me recently he will be getting out soon. I was surprised to hear he has children. He seems too young for that. He'll be in a halfway house for six months instead of going home. He's grateful for that because he is afraid to "lose focus and slip back." There is a stooped old man, bald, wrinkled, and watched out for by many of the others. I don't know why he's here but I think he's been "inside" for a long time. He has a gentle manner and handshake. Every time I see him I wonder if there is anyone left who hopes for him to come home. There is the skillful guitar player, the singer, the smiling Hispanic guy. Some seem somber but many are smiling broadly and the handshakes and thanks for "sharing your Christmas Day here with us," are real.

Ken preached a sermon that included the story of the man and the birds. The late Paul Harvey didn't know who wrote it, but he shared it every year at Christmas. Here it is:

The Man and the Birds

The man to whom I'm going to introduce you was not a Scrooge. He was a kind decent, mostly good man. Generous to his family, upright in his dealings with other men. But he just didn't believe all that incarnation stuff which the churches proclaim at Christmas Time. It just didn't make sense and he was too honest to pretend otherwise. He just couldn't swallow the Jesus Story, about God coming to Earth as a man. "I'm truly sorry to distress you," he told his wife, "but I'm not going with you to church this Christmas Eve." He said he'd feel like a hypocrite. That he'd much rather just stay at home, but that he would wait up for them.
And so he stayed and they went to the midnight service.

Shortly after the family drove away in the car, snow began to fall. He went to the window to watch the flurries getting heavier and heavier and then went back to his fireside chair and began to read his newspaper.

Minutes later he was startled by a thudding sound...then another, and then another. Sort of a thump or a thud...At first he thought someone must be throwing snowballs against his living room window, but when he went to the front door to investigate he found a flock of birds huddled miserably in the snow. They'd been caught in the storm and, in a desperate search for shelter, had tried to fly through his large landscape window.

Well, he couldn't let the poor creatures lie there and freeze, so he remembered the barn where his children stabled their pony. That would provide a warm shelter, if he could direct the birds to it. Quickly he put on a coat, galoshes, tramped through the deepening snow to the barn. He opened the doors wide and turned on a light, but the birds did not come in.

He figured food would entice them in. So he hurried back to the house, fetched bread crumbs, sprinkled them on the snow, making a trail to the yellow-lighted, wide open doorway of the stable. But to his dismay, the birds ignored the bread crumbs, and continued to flap around helplessly in the snow.

He tried catching them. He tried shooing them into the barn by walking around them waving his arms. Instead, they scattered in every direction--except into the warm, lighted barn.

And then, he realized that they were afraid of him.

"To them," he reasoned, "I am a strange and terrifying creature. If only I could think of some way to let them know that they can trust me. That I am not trying to hurt them, but to help them. But how?"

Any move he made tended to frighten them, confuse them. They just would not follow. They would not be led or shooed because they feared him. "If only I could be a bird," he thought to himself, "and mingle with them and speak their language. Then I could tell them not to be afraid. Then I could show them the way to the safe, warm...to the safe warm barn. But I would have to be one of them so they could see, and hear and understand."

At that moment the church bells began to ring. The sound reached his ears above the sounds of the wind. And he stood there listening to the bells -- listening to the bells pealing the glad tidings of Christmas. And he sank to his knees in the snow.

The choir sang a medley of Christmas songs and I led the men in a couple more carols. Nothing extraordinary this year, but I found myself wondering why it was that for me, like Father Joe, going to prison is a highlight of Christmas.

I think I finally understand why. There are no crazy schedules to keep, no shopping, no gift giving or receiving, no commercials, no Santa, not much of anything except a rather dingy chapel, Christmas songs, scripture--and the "least of these." For many inmates there is no reason to celebrate and they spend the day in bed. The prison chapel, however, is joyful, peaceful, and bright in an unhappy, negative and dark place. It is Christmas, stripped bare of the trappings and exposed in all its stark, spare, difficult, grace-filled wonder. "The Word became flesh and dwelt among us."

Christmas 2010

This year I was acutely aware of Christmas past. I remembered good and bad childhood holidays, the year Ken was in the hospital, the year we had to move (in a show storm) right before Christmas, the year we took the kids to an almost empty hotel (all those Christmas decorations just for us). I missed my mother and my sister and my brother-in-law Larry, and others. I thought of many loved ones who are no longer on this earth. I guess it's a sign I'm getting old.

I am very grateful this year that we had both our children with us. We don't get to see Josh much, and we all wish that when we do see him it was for a longer time--still we weren't sure he was going to be able to make it at all and he did. We had fun.

The snow is deep this year, and it was almost story-like to arrive at Kris and Daryl's little farm in the country (looking like a Christmas card!), nice to have Trinity welcome us joyfully, "Merry Christmas everyone! Hurry, come in!"

Trinity, the Greeter of the DayKris and Me With Breads

The warm kitchen was inviting, the table set with Christmas red and white. We enjoyed three kinds of special bread, and sipped our coffee as Trinity and Kris distributed gifts. Trinity made gift giving and receiving all the more delightful--she was so sweet, thanking us all for her presents, and happily telling us what she bought us before we could open the package. Later we had brunch and then Ken and I dashed off to prison as Josh and Trinity went out to make snow angels.

Kevin

Today Ken and Kevin and Kris and Trinity and I went to see "Voyage of the Dawn Treader" (one of the Narnia films--by far they best). I got the Senior Citizen discount. Not sure how to feel about that. Now I'm looking forward to a week off.

I am acutely,sometimes uncomfortably aware, how quickly things can change. I wonder what will happen this year. Kevin's kidneys are not functioning well (yet another complication of diabetes combined with other things) and so he's going to see a specialist in a couple of weeks. We all know, however, that a long and healthy life is not in his future. I know he's a little scared. It is a matter of when and what...but today he said, "It sure has been a delightful couple of days hasn't it?" And yes, it has.

I am thankful for a year when many of those I love most were nearby. I know it will not always be so.

Blogging Through 2010

This was interesting last year, so decided to do it again. The idea is to go back through 2010 and post the first sentence that I blogged each month. I eliminated the Friday Fives, and the Finding Little Big Foot Chapters, and here is what I got:

January: I've been looking at a few pictures from Haiti this morning, and I listened to a NPR report from a woman working there with World Vision.

February: Thirty nine years ago today, I walked down the aisle at the Rosewood Wedding Chapel in Burbank, California.

March: Every Tuesday I drive to the prison where my husband, Ken, is chaplain.

April: I suspect Fred Phelps is in for a big shock one of these days...

May: The 59th Annual National Day of Prayer is today.

June: Last weekend we were reenacting at the season's first "Rendezvous" camp, and Trinity came along.

July: If you look in my sidebar you will see 17 posts under the heading "Egalitarian Marriage" and 33 under "The Gender Debate."

August: Last night I watched the National Geographic channel's decomentary Witness: Katrina.

September: The kitchen/fellowship area of our church [set for "dinner with the carnys"] smelled wonderful last night.

October: October is Domestic Violence Awareness Month.

November: Yesterday I went shopping (and I'm not a person who loves to shop).

December: On the night presbyters laid their hands on my shoulders and prayed, the night I was "officially" a minister, something happened.

Christmas Past Friday Five

For today's Friday Five over at RevGalBlogPals, Jan asks us to share five Christmas memories. I have been remembering many things, and I'd love to share all happy memories, but (let's face it) sometimes Christmas can be difficult. So my memories are a mix, just like this time of year often is. These are the first five memories that came to mind.

1. Our family lived in Los Angeles, CA and the relatives lived in a small Texas town. We sometimes travelled there for Christmas. Money was never abundant, so it wasn't often that this happened. It was always a very exciting time for us to make the trip, and the arrival at our grandfather's lovely red brick home was so exciting--especially if we actually got snow. It was a big, warm, loving family with lots of aunts and uncles and cousins, and on Christmas Eve everyone gathered together at the big house in town. One year my cousin, Grady, and I went out to some woods somewhere or other and gathered a bunch of mistletoe. We had lots of fun plotting and giggling and putting it up in various doorways and interesting spots, but we thought we were being so smart and sneaky to hang a sprig of it on the ceiling above Papa's recliner. Of course, when our grandfather arrived home he acted very surprised and confused as to why everyone was kissing him. I, being about 8 or 9, really thought we had fooled him. My happiest Christmas memories are of various doings with the family in Texas.

2. My father, who had always been a very healthy and vibrant person, was in a coma from an aneurysm. It was Christmas time. My sister, Paulette, arrived from Indiana. I arrived from Wisconsin. Darlaine, our eldest sis, already lived in California, and it had been a long time since the three of us had been together. It was good, in a strange way, to be there together. It was a long, difficult week, first at a small hospital in Hemet and later at a large one in La Jolla. The hospital was decked out for the season (and La Jolla is a wealthy area so it was all beautiful). Christmas carols were playing, the rest of the family were elsewhere, and Paulette and I were mostly struggling to hold back tears. We left the ICU area and went for a walk around the hospital's main floor and lobby. On the walls were oil paintings of many wealthy benefactors of Scripp's Medical Center. We looked at each one and tried to imagine what it was like to be them. We got to giggling nearly hysterically, and Paulette made some very rude comments about the various people depicted on the walls. Such a silly thing, but a very vivid memory of finding something to laugh about, walking hand in hand at the hospital and waiting to hear if our dad was going to live or die. (He passed away on Dec. 20th.)

3. One Christmas when I was a child I was snooping for presents. I found a Betty Crocker bake set on my parents' closet shelf. Excited, because I'd been longing for one, I showed Paulette. She scoffed, saying, "That's just an empty box. Daddy has been gathering empty boxes to put stuff in to wrap. You can't tell by the box, silly." I was not convinced, so somehow she got me out of the closet and into the kitchen, and a few minutes later she showed up with the box, saying to our mother, "She thinks this is her present." She opened the lid, announcing, "See, nothing in there." Only thing was, she had emptied the entire box of its contents, little boxes of various mixes and tiny spoons, measuring cups and so on...but she had forgotten one thing. I can still see it, my sister standing there being a smarty and throwing off the lid and...oops! One red mixing bowl still in the box. Ha! She had already convinced me, but that mixing bowl had me wondering all the way up to Christmas.

4. Then there was the Christmas that my mom (a lovely person, but one with some serious spiritual/emotional/mental issues that often made our family life difficult if not outright bizarre) spent the entire season secluded in her room. I decorated the tree, wrapped the presents, decorated the house as best I could....not a happy time. She did come out for a short while to open presents. My husband-to-be (though I did not know it yet) was there. My mother, poor thing, was so anxious to return to her seclusion that she all but flung the presents at us in her hurry. Ken was trying hard to pretend not to notice that something was very strange. I was trying not to cry. My dad was seething with barely-contained frustration and fury. The evening ended with Ken leaving early, and me listening to an all-too familiar argument from my parents' room. I covered my head with my pillow and cried, knowing life as I knew it was disintegrating and wondering where God was. I was about to enter a pretty confused period of life when I wondered if anything I believed was true. Not a happy memory, but I can say that through it all I know (now) that God was at work. God's faithfulness transcends the frailty of humanity. I am very grateful for that!

5. The first year with Trinity was such fun...a laughing little baby who was entranced with the lights. And last year with little Trinity was so enjoyable. She was not quite three, and she had so much fun that it would have been impossible not to laugh and enjoy the day (not that it wasn't quite nice to be with each other!). She welcomed us at her front door with a flourish (she is quite dramatic) and escorted us to the tree. Having a little kid around, once again, at Christmas was so delightful. This year she is very excited to be in her first Christmas program ever! Praise God for children!

Christmas Thoughts on a Cold Morning

The view outside is white. And more white. The temperature is hovering around zero degrees F. We do have hopes that it is going to warm up to the 20s today, but for now it feels good to be sipping coffee, still in my flannel pajamas, and contemplating a day off in which I'm going to do some baking.


It has been a strange kind of Christmas season. Not a bad one, all things considered. More about that in a future post --but just different.

Last year I think I was just enjoying the freedom that not being a pastor brought me during the holidays, but I realized this year just how much of my Christmas focus was formerly determined by things pastors do.

I have always thought of Christmas in two rather distinct ways. I mean, the shopping, cookies or other baking, even the pleasure of lights and snowy landscapes are not really connected to thoughts of Jesus Christ and his birth. That doesn't mean that can't be very enjoyable, but the other part of Christmas, the part where I spend time in contemplation of spiritual things is a different thing altogethe, and it seems difficult this year.

Other years it happened as part of preparing for the season. At church, the month before Christmas Day was devoted to themes related to Jesus' birth and the events around it. I always tried to make Advent services coordinated--liturgical church traditions are better at this than we Evangelical types--but I worked hard at making the music, scripture readings, other special things like a poem or worship dance or drama, blend with the sermon so that the whole service led us together in a particular direction.

A few years ago I wrote (with help from my daughter) a daily devotional booklet, "Christmas at the Oasis" which spanned the time from the beginning of Advent through the week after New Years. I posted those here as well. We had to be finished with the whole thing in plenty of time to get it to the printer and distributed for the first Sunday in Advent. It was a wonderful spiritual exercise. I don't know how meaningful it was for those in my congregation or others who received the booklet, but it was good for me to plan it, write it, and find the artwork that went with the devotion for the day!

I'm realizing that it is almost Christmas and I am missing the focus of time spent thinking, writing, planning and so on. I don't know what next year will bring, but I have decided I must be a lot more "on purpose" about planning my holidays to include some sort of spiritual discipline.

How about you? Is it a season of peace, joy, hope and love...or is it something else this year? Do you have any special habits or practices that help bring the important things into focus?

Please Pray With Me for "Questing Parson"

Some of you may know my long-time blogger friend and colleague, Questing Parson. His wife recently had surgery and last night she passed away from related issues. Here is Parson's trubute to her. Would you say a prayer for him today?

Jingle Bell Rock Friday Five

RevGalBlogPal friend, Mary Beth, posted the Friday Five today.

For today's Friday Five: What lifts you up when you are low or troubled? Who helps you remember that you are not alone, it's getting better all the time, etc.? Your five responses can be people you know, people you DON'T know, music, places, foods, scripture, surprises, something you do for someone else. It could be a pair of slippers. It could be a glass of water. Bonus: Do you like the song "Jingle Bell Rock?" If you do, who do you prefer to hear sing it? Bobby Helms, Brenda Lee, Mean Girls, Stephanie Smith, Chubby Checker, Billy Gilman, Brian Setzer, Hilary Duff, Thousand Foot Krutch (I am not making this up), oh, there are so many more! I am currently partial to my friend Marco.

Wow! Okay, I'll take the bonus first. I do like the song Jingle Bell Rock because it reminds me of my two sisters wearing bobby sox, black and white oxfords and poodle skirts with lots of crinoline petticoats beneath. And of course this means I like the Brenda Lee version. It's a dumb song, of course, so why have so many people sung it? Dumb but cherry. Maybe that's the secret.

On to the five things that lift me up when I'm down.

1. Rest. I have finally come to realize that sometimes I am down when I am just in serious need of some down time. So a cup of tea, a book, and SOLITUDE are a key. It isn't that those things make me cheery. They just make cheeriness possible!

2. Music. Nothing cheers me up like music. What type, how loud, etc. all depend on lots of variables, but music is a necessity in my life. Sometimes, it's true, music can make me sad, lonely, or too nostalgic for my own good. Especially since I'm still grieving some multiple losses, so if the goal is to cheer myself up, I need to choose carefully. In a few minutes I'm going to put my "Straight No Chaser" Christmas CD on. They are a great vocal group (thanks to son Josh for giving me the CD a coupld of Christmases back). I'll try to find a version of their song "Christmas Can Can" to post. It always makes me laugh. Especially when they get to the Dredel pat.....and screaming Christmas carols all the way...lalalalalalala....well I found it. Here you go.




3. People. One must not hole up (see number one) for too long. People, especially the positive ones, are good for lifting our spirits.

4. Counting my blessings. Sounds sappy, eh? But it is true. Sometimes I just need to stop and reflect and say thanks to God for the good things in my life.

5. Cooking. I don't know why cooking cheers me up, but it does. Nothing like making a big mess in the kitchen to get me in a better mood!

Happy Birthday to Josh

Thirty-three years ago today, I woke in the wee hours with some definite signs that labor was underway. This was baby number two, so I figured it wouldn't be long before we would welcome our new family member into the world. A while later I was at the hospital and nothing was happening. I paced. I paced some more. Once in a while something significant would begin, but then stop. Hours later, the dreaded Pitocin drip was started. More hours went on. Something was amiss, it seemed, but an x ray showed that the baby inside was not too large, so we waited.

Then things got exciting, but not in a good way. The fetal heart beat was too slow and there were signs that the little one who was on his way was stressed. I was prepped for a C-Section. The doctor was obviously concerned and things were a bit grim. He tried to gently warn me that all was likely not well.

Ken called our church's prayer chain, and before they could get things set for the C-section, Josh entered the world. Unlike his older sister, who entered the world squalling in protest, he only cried briefly. He did manage to send a healthy stream of urine onto the doctor, who laughed and said, "Well, we know his water works are functioning fine." I'm not sure what the doctor had expected, but he was clearly happy to see this healthy child. Josh was a beautiful newborn, with brown hair and the most intense blue eyes I had ever seen. When I held him those large eyes looked up at me. They weren't cloudy, as newborn eyes often are--they were clear and focused. He seemed to be gazing intently at us.

That is how I remember my baby boy most, a beautiful child who quietly watched the world with great intensity, often awake and usually watching the world closely.

He became a shy boy with a sweet disposition, the delight of all of us and the favorite person of his big sis, who was six years older. I can picture them, Josh doing his best to keep up. They were an interesting pair, those two, opposites in many ways (and that is still true). Josh was the cautious one, the saver, the neat kid. He works at night, so the morning person we all used to know has disappeared these days, but Dad and Sis and I all vividly recall how he often woke us up by singing church songs happily in the morning. His favorites were, "I'll Fly Away" and a Pentecostal standard I am sad to say doesn't get sung much anymore, "Not By Might."

He's not shy anymore. But he still cares about people, more than he sometimes wants anyone to know, and he still has a great voice.

Happy Birthday, Josh. I'm so glad you are in the world!

Orange Nut Bread

Here is the link to the recipe.

Survival Edition Friday Five

Katheryn shared today's F.F. over at RevGalBlogPals. (The Elf collage is my grandaughter, Trinity, some time back.)

Whether a RevGal or a Pal most of us in this cyber community have enhanced responsibilities during this time of year. We also have traditions - religious and secular - that mark the season for us in a more personal way. For this Friday Five please let us know five of the things that mark the season for you.

1. The thing I miss about not being the pastor of a church during this season is the Advent wreath. Growing up Southern Baptist, and then hopping over to the Assemblies of God. I never heard of Advent. The first time I saw one I was in my late 20s. My husband was invited to speak at a series of classes at a Lutheran Church in the Washington D.C. area. It was a lovely old church building, the sort that appealed to my aesthetic lil soul. I wandered around, admiring the stained glass, pipe organ, lovely carved pews--and suspended from the ceiling over the altar area was an enormous Advent wreath of evergreen boughs and holly and large white candles. It looked so unique, Christmasy--something I had seen in pictures of European churches. I love the symbolism of the Advent wreath, the candles, readings, etc.

2. Christmas music...love it! Especially the glorious, soaring type. I LOVE Handel's "Messiah."

3. Light. The more the merrier.

4. Baking orange nut bread and Jule Kaga. The orange nut bread recipe comes from my mother, and is the most delicious nut bread imaginable. Find it over at The Owl's Kitchen. The other comes from my husband's Norwegian family. Both are musts. I so enjoy Christmas baking, especially if music is playing in the background. And, of course, it's nice to eat them as well.

5. Snow! Growing up in California where it might be 65 balmy degrees on Christmas Day, one thing I do like about Christmas in the upper Midwest is that most of the time we will have a beautiful, white Christmas. I do get very tired of snow by the time April rolls around, but I love it when the dusting of snow on everything is real snow.

And the bonus? Tell us one thing that does absolutely nothing for you.

Santa. I know, the St. Nick story is great. But Santa Claus? Not so much. Bah, humbug. (Except for when he is my sweetie.) Pics of that as soon as I can download them next week.

A Tale of Two Women

On the night presbyters laid their hands on my shoulders and prayed, the night I was "officially" a minister, something happened. The incident has been playing in my head all day We were holding our district council at a downtown Milwaukee church. I was standing in a line to receive congratulations as people do on such occasions, and the only person near me that I knew was Val, a longtime friend. She and her husband had been our neighbors in "married couples housing" at Trinity. They had taken a pastorate in Wisconsin, like us, and she had just started so speak to me when two women approached.

The first was a small young Hispanic woman. She spoke very softly. "Are you...a preacher?"

"Yes." Smile.

"Really? Like...a minister?"

"Yes."

"I had no idea." The young woman was gazing at me like I was something amazing. She shook my hand, and repeated, "I had no idea. I had no idea."

Her English was heavily accented. She backed away, but she didn't really leave. She just kept watching me. I guess I have not mentioned that I was the only woman receiving any sort of ministerial credentials that night.

The second was a very large and very elderly African American woman. She was not quite "all there" and probably suffering from some sort of dementia. But this dear sister, mostly toothless, ran up to me and wrapped her arms around me and hugged the stuffing out of me. I can still see her face. Then she held me at arms length, and as tears rolled down her cheeks, kept loudly excalaiming, "OH, sister, God bless you!" Then she would shake her head as if she could not believe what was before her eyes. This happened about three times, and I was feeling a little trapped. It seemed she was going to continue to hug me, inspect me and "God bless" me all night. I had thanked her each time, and didn't know what to do. Thankfully, Val, who had stepped away for a moment, saw the problem and gently intervened by coming up to shake my hand. The elderly lady reluctantly stepped back, but she continued to say, "Oh, sister, God bless you" and smile at me till she was out of sight in the crowd.

During all this the other woman stood not far away. When she caught my eye, once again, she shook her head, almost looking bewildered. "Is something wrong?" I asked, growing concerned. She did not really answer, but tears filled her eyes as once more she said, "I had no idea." My husband came up about that time and she too disappeared into the crowd.

What was happening to those two very different women? I think I know. I think both of them had felt a stirring in their spirits to serve God in some sort of preaching ministry. One was old, and her mind, it seemed, was going, but she still knew enough to rejoice to see that a woman was among the group of newly licensed/ordained men. The other was very young, and I have often wondered about her. Why did she seem so stunned? What was happening in her mind and heart? I suspect her English was not good, and even if we had been able to take the time she might not have been able to share with me what was happening. Something tells me she remembers that night too.

Why I am remembering this today? Don't know, but can't stop thinking about it.

'Twas the Beginning of Advent

Today is the first of four Sundays leading to Christmas, the season known as Advent. Join the RevGalBlogPals tomorrow as we share a day-long online Advent retreat. Just click here
tomorrow morning to join us. Subsequent meditaions will be added throughout the day.

I'd like to share a poem be the Rev. J. Todd Jenkins, First Presbyterian Church, Fayettevile, Tennessee.

'Twas the Beginning of Advent

'Twas the beginning of Advent and all through the Church, Our hope was all dying--

we'd given up on the search.
It wasn't so much that Christ wasn't invited,
But after 2,000 plus years we were no longer excited.

Oh, we knew what was coming-- no doubt about that.
And that was the trouble-- it was all "old hat."
November brought the first of an unending series of pains
With carefully orchestrated advertising campaigns.

There were gadgets and dolls and all sorts of toys.
Enough to seduce even the most devout girls and boys.
Unfortunately, it seemed, no one was completely exempt
From this seasonal virus that did all of us tempt.

The priests and prophets and certainly the kings
Were all so consumed with the desire for "things!"
It was rare, if at all, that you'd hear of the reason
For the origin of this whole holy-day season.

A baby, it seems, once had been born
In the mid-east somewhere on that first holy-day morn.
But what does that mean for folks like us,
Who've lost ourselves in the hoopla and fuss?

Can we re-learn the art of wondering and waiting,
Of hoping and praying, and anticipating?
Can we let go of all the things and the stuff?
Can we open our hands and our hearts long enough?

Can we open our eyes and open our ears?
Can we find him again after all of these years?
Will this year be different from all the rest?
Will we be able to offer him all of our best?

So many questions, unanswered thus far,
As wisemen seeking the home of the star.
Where do we begin-- how do we start
To make for the child a place in our heart?

Perhaps we begin by letting go
Of our limits on hope, and of the stuff that we know.
Let go of the shopping, of the chaos and fuss,
Let go of the searching, let Christmas find us.

We open our hearts, our hands and our eyes,
To see the king coming in our own neighbors' cries.
We look without seeking what we think we've earned,
But rather we're looking for relationships spurned.

With him he brings wholeness and newness of life
For brother and sister, for husband and wife.
The Christ-child comes not by our skill,
But rather he comes by his own Father's will.

We can't make him come with parties and bright trees,
But only by getting down on our knees.
He'll come if we wait amidst our affliction,
Coming in spite of, not by our restriction.

His coming will happen-- of this there's no doubt.
The question is whether we'll be in or out.
"Behold, I stand at the door and knock."
Do you have the courage to peer through the lock?

A basket on your porch, a child in your reach.
A baby to love, to feed and to teach.
He'll grow in wisdom as God's only Son.
How far will we follow this radical one?

He'll lead us to challenge the way that things are.
He'll lead us to follow a single bright star.
But that will come later if we're still around.
The question for now: Is the child to be found?

Can we block out commercials, the hype and the malls?
Can we find solitude in our holy halls?
Can we keep alert, keep hope, stay awake?
Can we receive the child for ours and God's sake?

From on high with the caroling host as he sees us,
He yearns to read on our lips the prayer: Come Lord Jesus!
As Advent begins all these questions make plea.
The only true answer: We will see, we will see.

Pie-ola Friday Five

Songbird shares a fun post-Thanksgiving Day Friday Five:

Please answer these five questions about pie:

1) Are pies an important part of a holiday meal?
We had pear, pecan, chocolate and pumpkin pies, and only seven people at the table (one of whom is only three). Absolutely essential at Thanksgiving and Christmas! So essential that yesterday Kris and I were discussing the merits of a pie crust made with shortening or oil with a crust made from lard. (Lard!) Lard really does make a better, lighter, flakier crust. Good thing we don't eat pie all the time!

2) Men prefer pie; women prefer cake. Discuss.
Ken (my spouse) and Kevin (my bro-in law who lives here) weighed in on this one. Ken prefers pie. Kevin prefers cake. (But that didn't stop him from having multiple helpings of pie yesterday. I like cake...but I don't know as I prefer it. Like comparing apples and oranges or coffee and tea. Hard to say. Well...maybe if I could only eat one for the rest of my life...cake.

3) Cherries--do they belong in a pie?
If it is a cherry pie.

4) Meringue--if you have to choose, is it best on lemon or chocolate?
I'm not a meringue lover, but lemon would be my choice. Our son, who didn't make it home for Thanksgiving this year, has already requested that his sis make one for Christmas, however. So I guess it's lemon meringue for Christmas this year.

5) In a chicken pie, what are the most compatible vegetables? Anything you don't like to find in a chicken pie?
I love chicken pie! Carrots, onions, peas, celery and corn if you want to use it up. I make one that isn't in a crust but is topped with biscuits. Yum! Turkey pie is good too, and beef pie. KFC's chicken pot pie is delicious on a cold day, but I probably don't want to know how many calories it contains. The crust is fabulous!

Thankfulness 2010 You

This has been a good exercise for me! I am glad others joined me here and there along the way. I am thankful for friends old and new, cyber and IRL, and people in general! Thanks to those who still stop by The Owl's Song. Have a wonderful, joyful, peaceful day with family and friends. For those who are spending the day alone, may the presence of the Holy Spirit comfort you.

Thankfulness 2010 My House

The picture is of Kris and me, cooking Thanksgiving dinner in my kitchen when she was pregnant with Trinity.

I am not delighted with my house. It is a small ranch-style house. Every room in it is a bit too little, especially since we now share it with a wheelchair-bound relative and his two dogs.

I complain about the galley kitchen. The bathrooms are cramped. Our king size bed pretty much fills up the master bedroom.

I awoke this a.m. to a news story on PBS about families in Egypt. Things have not gone well there for "middle class" people under the current administration, much less the poor. We heard the story of one couple whose home was buldozed by the government with no warning. They were told to go to a local government office and fill out paperwork and they would be able to move into an apartment. Arriving there, they were told that no such paperwork existed. Along with some of their former neighbors, this couple has been living in a tent for over a year. Not a nice camping tent, either. A tent they put together from blankets from their bed. They are in view of an apartment building with many empty units. They are not allowed to move in. Paperwork.

Today I am feeling grateful for my little house.