Bill and Glory's Haven

Worshipping at the Super Altar

2012-02-06T16:58:00.000-08:00

"The Golden Cash Cow had the body of the great cows of ancient Egypt. And the face of Robert Tilton, without the horns." -- Steve Taylor

My wife and I were among the few who didn't go to church yesterday. We were on our way home from our wedding anniversary weekend. But while on the way home I told my wife that I had a confession to make: Had the Denver Broncos or the Seattle Seahawks been in the Super Bowl this year, I might have been at church, too. Or at least I would have poked my head into the sanctuary to see what was going on. But my teams didn't get in and so I didn't even glance at yesterday's national televised worship service.

With more than one-third of our nation's population tuning in, there were a lot of people at church yesterday.

The Super Bowl has become our nation's annual church gathering. What other event can guarantee to get us all in one place, excited about one thing and take communion with a big bag of Doritos? We raise our hands, shout in jubilation over victories, and cry in disgust over the opposing team's foothold in our hopes and dreams. Heck, this year the service had Madonna leading the choir on the stage. How appropriate. Thousands of fans across the country even packed real churches to watch their second worship service of the day on the big screen. The Super Bowl is a huge four-act passion play that brings us all together.

Now, don't get me wrong. I am all about having some fun and enjoying time with friends and loved ones over a common interest. But, I have to say, the more I read about this year's version of the annual gathering, complete with a completely idolatrous halftime show and sexually-charged commercials, the more I am glad I missed it. For a few years now, too, the networks on which the game has aired has had to apologize for what people had been watching. But then it happens again the following year. It's an opportunity for corporations and famous individuals to push the boundaries of decency as far as it can until we don't care anymore. And it seems that we don't care. After all, it's the Super Bowl. And it's all about fun.

And it's all about a sermon about money that, for once, people don't mind hearing.

It's ironic that for the past year a vocal segment of our society has talked about being part of the 99 percent and hating the wealthy one percent. Those evil people with money, including a current candidate for national office, shouldn't be able to have all that money, they say. Laws need to change so their money can belong to everyone else, others say. Even some famous one-percenters have duped us into thinking that they even believe their fellow one-percenters are the worst of the worst simply because they have more money than them.

But on one particular Sunday every year, people don't seem to mind that those filthy rich millionaires possess what the rest of us never will as long as they keep us entertained for a few hours in their cathedral of avarice. We'll gladly put something in their collection plate. If we can't be like them, we might as well watch them and wish we were them.

But maybe I'm just upset my teams didn't make it to Super Sunday.

Who won, anyway?

Bill

Coming to a doorstep near you

2012-01-06T15:53:00.000-08:00

My family and I love to travel. We do. We like to load up the van and take off for parts unknown and familiar, bagging a 4,000-mile trip over a couple of weeks. We like to see the people we know and love and also see the sites of which most people just see pictures.
Because of a few life-changing events in 2011, we have determined to bring our friends in a little closer to us. Our van will get gassed-up and tuned up this summer and take us on a multi-thousand mile trip. Could be 5,000. Could be 8,000. We may only get to go halfway across the country, or perhaps we’ll get to the East Coast. We don't know yet. But it should be fun, exhausting and exhilarating at the same time.
Recently I read about a lady who decided to personally see all 300-plus people on her Facebook friends list. She did it last year and spent more than $30,000 getting the job done traveling the world. What made her trip more remarkable was that she struggles with depression and, prior to her road trip, spent the vast majority of her time housebound, and scared to even leave her home. What a big step to leave under such constraints. And what a show of devotion to friends that she would get out of her bubble to see them.
But such devotion doesn’t have to be shown to someone who lives 2,000 miles away. Perhaps there’s someone across town you don’t spend as much time with anymore. Perhaps they live just an hour away. What is their friendship worth to you? Perhaps it’s time to just invite them over for coffee. Perhaps you can just drop in on them.
I believe with our social media saturated culture, we have perhaps a distorted idea of true friendship. We may have a lot of friends per se, but do we really know them? Would we ever see them? Are they really friends or acquaintances? Granted, we all have acquaintances -- those who we don't mind having in our lives but keep at a distance for some reason or another. But what about those we have broken bread with, cried with, went camping with, grew up with or stood alongside with during a significant life event? What about those we say we love but haven't seen in 20 years and don’t expect to any time soon? Are those friends worth the sacrifice of reconnection? Does a phone call, text, poke or IM just not getting the job done anymore? Do things really bridge the divide? Perhaps it's time to hit the road and see these people, in the flesh.
And that's what we plan on doing in 2012. We long to see our friends face to face. And I can't wait for the bonding that will happen in our family when we again ride together across this country. Those are the things that we build in our children so that they will learn the value of relationships and eventually learn to go the extra miles for those they will soon know and love.

Bill

January Stinks

2012-01-04T13:36:00.000-08:00

"Fish and visitors smell after three days." -- Benjamin Franklin

My wife and I have long joked about our nemesis, January.

January is pretty sure of itself. It knows that everyone wants to see it. It makes December feel bad, especially right after Christmas. I mean, December just gives us a rip-snorting good time with presents and holiday cheer when January starts knocking on December's door, threatening to kick it out.

And when January comes blowing in on the first, evicting December with its songs, toasts and parties, everyone welcomes it with open arms.

"Oh, January, we thought you'd never get here!" they cry.

Those seeking change snuggle sickly up to January: "Oh January, thank you for giving us a second chance."

And January smugly takes in all the attention. Like a politician, it promises much and predicts great things. It smiles and kisses our babies and makes big speeches about good times to come. And, fresh from Christmas, we salivate for more good times that only December can give, and expect second helpings of holiday heapings from January.

But, oh how quickly our devotions change. We start seeing through January's slick promises. We quickly start realizing that January is, in fact, a thief. It kicked December to the curb and didn't expect to get caught. When the taxman comes, we call for January to help us but it's silent. When the one pound we lost on the second turns into three pounds gained on the third, we cry for help. But January turns a deaf ear. When happiness with friends on Dec. 31 turns into heartache over tragedy, we ask why. And January doesn't give an answer.

No, my friends. Here on Jan. 4, we see January for what it is. January is not a team player. January in and of itself does not fulfill one of its shallow promises. January doesn't keep away the trials, pains, hard work and dedication the way it promised. January, really, does nothing.

January stinks.

- Bill

Going Home and Living

2011-12-24T10:13:00.000-08:00

"This world is not my home. I'm just passing through." - Larry Norman.

Our friend died on Wednesday night. His family told us that the time of Christmas singing and communion that we and some other friends had at his house last Sunday after church was a blessing for him and them, too. Now, he's receiving a lot more of that. And on the eve before Christmas, I can't think of a better Christmas gift than to see the Gift we all have been waiting to open.

Our family is spending Christmas with friends in California. It took a full day to get here, over 1,000 miles, in the fog, in the dark, bypassing accidents and animal carcasses, catching a few winks at a rest area, eating bad road food, multiple bathroom breaks and finally contending with bumper-to-bumper California traffic. All that to spend a few happy days with friends over the holidays.

And it's all worth it for a Merry Christmas with loved ones.

At this point, we are quite sure that our friend, just shy of his 70th birthday, would say the pain and discomfort over the past weeks was worth it to spend Christmas with his Savior.

Merry Christmas, Sonny.

Merry Christmas everyone.

Bill

More from the precipice

2011-12-19T13:50:00.000-08:00

"Jesus wept." - John 11:35

Everyone knows or knows of the shortest verse in the Bible. Jesus displays His humanity after seeing the grief people feel over the fear and loss of a loved one. Jesus also was moved by the fact that Lazarus was dead.

There's nothing wrong with expressing sadness over things that are beyond our control. Currently, I am wrestling with my emotions and thoughts over watching a friend embracing his last days. And that causes me to ever ponder my end. I don't believe that it shows a lack of faith or belief that God is capable of doing whatever He wants, unless, of course, we are like those in verse 37 of this chapter: “Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man also have kept this man from dying?” That's akin to saying, "I know you're capable of doing anything, God, but you must have been lying down on the job for this one." Let's understand, we can't pick and choose what we think God sees and doesn't see. He does see us and knows what goes on. Everyone knows the 23rd Psalm. They not just pithy words that are written: "Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will not fear for you are with me."

Jesus understood our greatest fear. He showed His compassion throughout the Gospels through this subject. He wanted to know us and to die for us. He is not cold, calculated and mean. In Luke chapter seven, Jesus was moved with compassion over another scene where a woman was having her dead son being taken out of the house. But He proved his power by raising the son from the dead.

Those two passages of Jesus' interactions with people at the moment of their greatest fears fill me with hope. God can do whatever He wishes. If He wants to heal someone, He can. If He wants to raise someone from the dead, He can. But I also understand that there will come a time when healings don't happen, when temporary relief can no longer delay the inevitable. For that, I have to hope in this: God sees death for what it is: It is a separation of the spirit from its earthly house. In short, at the time of death, our spirit is released to where it will permanently reside. If I really think about it, especially in light of scripture, my soul knows this to be true. I am just renting this body. The best is yet to come.

"For we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, an eternal house in heaven, not built by human hands." I Cor. 5:1.

I want to see this place and find out what God has for me. What a step that will be when I finally am given that permission.

Bill

Stepping into the Great Unknown

2011-12-16T11:56:00.000-08:00

"There’s a step that we all face alone, an appointment we have with the Great Unknown." – Bob Hartman.

Much has been said and written about dying. What I have to write about it is nothing new and I am quite sure that there are many people out there who can pontificate about the subject with far more eloquence than me.

But death is a raw subject that is meant to be discussed in a raw way. There’s no other way to discuss it than in matter-of-fact openness. It happens to every one of us and there is no escape from it.

My friend Sonny is going home today to die. He has end-stage cancer and it’s inoperable. Yesterday while in his hospital room, I asked him what the doctors are saying, meaning how much time does he have left, etc. I was hesitant from being blunt as I normally am around Sonny for the sake of those in the room who many not share such openness about the subject. He said to me and his relatives in the room that everyone wants to tiptoe around the subject, but stated that the truth of the matter is that he’s dying and he’s OK with that. Over the past year as he has dealt with his cancer, he said that dying isn’t the problem but has been more contemplative over God using him in the lives of others. I will say with a certainty that Sonny’s humility and courage has made a permanent mark in my life.

No, death is not the problem. It’s an open door to eternity. For those who will get upset reading this to argue with me about proof of an afterlife, I will say believe what you want. But whatever you do believe about death still requires faith. My faith is in Jesus who died and rose again, so what is there to worry about? But I still need to have faith and believe that when I breathe my last and the lights go out, that my existence will go on. “To be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord,” Paul wrote in II Corinthians 5:8. If there is a God then I have to believe that He has all aspects of life covered from birth to death. And I would rather cling to a hope that God will hold my hand during that time than to just be afraid not knowing what to expect, or that life is going to go on without me. If God has been with me through other times in my life, why would the end of my final chapter be any different?

Honestly, I still can’t wrap my head around it all right now. But I don’t need to be concerned with that right now. For Sonny, God is revealing Himself to him and granting him that special measure of grace to get him through the most difficult thing in life. That’s why he can say with confidence and a smile that he’s dying, and he’s accepted that because Jesus is waiting for him. And for that I am encouraged. With Him waiting, what is there to fear?

The finisher's medal

2011-06-20T10:27:00.000-07:00

"Are you going to win, Dad?" my five-year-old son asked me as I got my running gear prepared the night before I ran a half-marathon a couple of days ago. I told him I would do my best. "I hope you win," he said over and over.

I ran the half marathon in 1:52:53, my fastest time yet among the three I've done over the past year.

I like running. I missed it so much when I didn't run for 15 years, until September 2009. Now I am the older runner. I've never fit the bill of a star runner. I know my limitations. For me it's not about getting to the finish line first, but getting there having done my best, using all my strength and endurance and hopefully learning from mistakes in training and performance and getting better and reaching, not just making, difficult but worthy goals.

Running is such a great analogy for the Christian life. Paul used it in his letters. When that day comes when I have breathed my last, I just want to hear Jesus say "Well done." At that point, to even have made it to His presence would be joyous. I am running to win the ultimate prize.

I noticed when I was heading into the finish line (with my legs feeling increasingly like lead weights) I had salt foam bubbling out of the bottom of my shorts by my left thigh. That was weird. I was sweating like a racehorse! Now, it's kind of icky, but it also was really kind of cool. Can I really push my body to its limits? What does that look like? What will happen when I run a marathon in 14 weeks? I'd better not see that salt foam for that could spell disaster and could find myself being too dehydrated. Nevertheless, it's strangely fun to experiment, make some corrections to hydration and training and see where that takes me.

When my family saw me come in 27th out of 78 runners, I told my son I beat a lot of people but again stressed that I just wanted to do my best -- and I did. He saw my finisher's medal and I put it on his neck. In fact, each of my kids took turns wearing the medal, sharing in their dad's success. I ran well, and that was the important thing.

Eating Your Spinach

2011-05-10T09:34:00.000-07:00

Spinach just happens to be one of those amazing power foods that packs a lot of nutrients into one serving. Spinach is low in Saturated Fat, and very low in Cholesterol. It is also a good source of Niacin and Zinc, and a very good source of Dietary Fiber, Protein, Vitamin A, Vitamin C, Vitamin E (Alpha Tocopherol), Vitamin K, Thiamin, Riboflavin, Vitamin B6, Folate, Calcium, Iron, Magnesium, Phosphorus, Potassium, Copper and Manganese. In other words, it's just that healthy!

The downside of spinach is the taste. It has a deep earthy flavor that some adults and kids alike find off-putting. But if we are to be good stewards of our bodies then finding ways of incorporating good nutritious food like spinach into our diet is essential.

Enter the smoothie! Smoothies are a fun easy way to get lots of good stuff into our diets without sacrificing flavor and enjoyment. Just take this recipe, for example. The spinach gets blended with a banana and wheat germ or flax seed for an added boost of fiber. When it's all ready to pour into a glass the spinach is still there but the banana is the only thing you can really taste. And I did let my kids try this and they loved it.

Banana Spinach Smoothie

Ingredients

•1 whole Banana, Sliced
•1 cup Packed Fresh Baby Spinach Leaves
•1 cup Soy Milk Or Skim
•1 teaspoon Ground Flax Seed Or Wheat Germ
•½ cups Crushed Ice

Directions

Combine ingredients into a Magic Bullet or blender. Blend for about 30 seconds or until smooth. Pour into a glass and enjoy.

Serves one.

Glory

Pineapple Avocado Gazpacho

2011-05-03T12:40:00.000-07:00

I LOVE everything pineapple. Pineapple juice, fresh pineapple, pineapple upside-down cake, pineapple salad, pineapple Hawaiian shirts! And I LOVE almost everything avocado. Avocado guacamole, avocado salsa, avocado smoothies, avocado bread (but NOT avocado green refrigerators - I did say almost).

But putting pineapple and avocado together in a chilled soup was a little daring, for me, but I am more willing to take the leap when I think about all the health benefits of pineapples and avocados. For instance, pineapple is a great low-calorie food at just 50 calories per 100 grams, or about 1/2 cup. It is high in Vitamin C and is a great digestive aid, especially if eaten between meals as a snack. Avocado is also a wonderful health food, as avocados provide nearly 20 essential nutrients, including fiber, potassium, Vitamin E, B-vitamins and folic acid.

So I dare you to try this recipe and tell me if you're as surprised at how tasty it is as I am!

Pineapple & Avocado Gazpacho Soup

Ingredients:

- 2 cups fresh pineapple
- 1 avocado
- 1/2 to 1 jalapeno pepper
- 1/2 tsp sea salt
- 1 lime
- sprouts (sunflower sprouts are the best) or cilantro for a garnish

Directions:
1. Remove the seeds and chop the jalapeno pepper. Wearing gloves is a great idea when you do this so that you don’t risk your fingers burning, and be careful not to touch your face or eyes until you remove the gloves and wash your hands!
2. Squeeze the juice of one lime into a blender and add 1 cup of pineapple, half an avocado, half the jalapeno pepper and the sea salt.
3. Blend the mixture well.
4. Pour the mixture into a large bowl and mix in the remaining finely chopped 1 cup of pineapple, half an avocado and half the jalapeno pepper.
5. Add a little water if you prefer a thinner soup, but I like my gazpacho thick.
6. Garnish with the cilantro or sprouts and make sure the soup is chilled!

Glory

The Yumminess of God

2011-04-19T13:24:00.000-07:00

When describing my personal study to our oldest I referred to the "yumminess of God." She laughed with me as I continued to talk about how many times God's goodness and provisions are expressed with terms like taste, sweet, hunger, satisfy. It's pretty telling, especially when words like fruit and harvest are used, that God fully intends to meet, not only our need of him, but also our desires.

This is by no means a comprehensive list, as there are certainly more references than this in all of scripture. But feast on these verses and see how God is truly good and can satisfy all our needs and desires.

Psalm 34:8
Taste and see that the LORD is good. Oh, the joys of those who take refuge in him!

Psalm 119:103
How sweet your words taste to me; they are sweeter than honey.

Proverbs 16:24
Kind words are like honey--sweet to the soul and healthy for the body.

Proverbs 24:14
In the same way, wisdom is sweet to your soul. If you find it, you will have a bright future, and your hopes will not be cut short.

Proverbs 27:7
A person who is full refuses honey, but even bitter food tastes sweet to the hungry.

Psalm 107:9
For he satisfies the thirsty and fills the hungry with good things.

Psalm 107:36
He brings the hungry to settle there and to build their cities.

Psalm 146:7
He gives justice to the oppressed and food to the hungry. The LORD frees the prisoners.

Proverbs 10:3
The LORD will not let the godly go hungry, but he refuses to satisfy the craving of the wicked.

John 6:35
Jesus replied, "I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry again. Whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.

God, You are good and You give us good things, not only for our health and wholeness but also for our enjoyment and pleasure. Open my eyes to Your Word every day so that I can see that You alone can satisfy my deepest longings and desires, that my greatest need for comfort is found in You. Help me to be faithful in seeking You first to satisfy me and fill me. Forgive me of my sinful craving for things that are temporary and will not last. Even my desire to be physically fit is fleeting and not of eternal value. But desiring Your presence and spending time in deep heartfelt worhip of You, Lord, is forever! Thank You for this revelation!

Glory

Dishwashing Dates and Rocking the Chore Charts

2011-04-12T09:04:00.000-07:00

After several frustrating weeks of dishes piled in the sink, laundry piled on chairs, and shoes, books, and toys piled in the corners of various rooms I decided that our system of designating chores was just not working. Everything was on one page and, while it might have worked if everyone was over the age of 30 and understood how to read it, it just looked like no one was working together. Shared activity is very important to our family, be it special outings or simply hanging out at the fire pit. So I decided that that needed to be incorporated into our chore schedules.

So I sat down at the laptop and came up with three distinct areas of housekeeping that could be accomplished within the day, even around school and other responsibilities. The pages are "laminated" (with packing tape) so names can be circled off with a dry erase marker for the current day's jobs. The main key is shared jobs and working together. Many hands make light work, right? I believe this nurtures relationships and fosters a sense of teamwork. Cooperative attitudes are encouraged and built up and not one person is left to feel like they're doing everything all the time.

And those "Dishwashing Dates"? Well, for me, washing dishes has never been especially pleasurable but knowing that two days out of the week I wash dishes with Bill makes it something to actually look forward to, like a special date at the kitchen sink! This is also shared, now, and the girls will end up washing dishes with each other or with either Bill or me. It gives us a chance to catch up on their lives and address any problems in a calmer manner.

So far this has been working well and will need revision as our children get older. But, for now, we are enjoying the closeness that this brings to our family.

Glory

Spring Break Activities for a Rainy Day

2011-04-04T13:04:00.000-07:00

Spring Break, here at the haven, is getting off to a soggy start. That's what we get for living in NorthWest Washington! So, with this in mind my search for Spring Break ideas resulted in these ten great activities that will keep our kids busy having fun.

Creative Party Buzz has these top 10 suggestions for Spring Break boredom busters!

1. Put on a Show — Gather the gang and challenge them to stage a play or show off in a talent contest. If they are stuck for ideas, have everyone put their best suggestion in a hat (including you) and draw an idea at random.

2. Get Busy with a Mini-Field Trip — Visit one of your local indoor attractions, such as the bowling alley, skating rink, Laser Tag, indoor pool, climbing wall or even the library. Lots of places offer special events and rates during Spring Break.

3. Get Your Game on! — Raid the game cabinet and find a family favorite to play. Start a puzzle or get active with a game of Twister or Wii.

4. Bring Your Favorite Outdoor Activity Inside — Keep everybody moving by playing a game of Nerf basketball, indoor bowling (roll a rubber ball down the hall to knock over some empty bottles), or beach ball volleyball. You can also come up with lots of fun games using balloons, such as seeing how long you can keep it in the air, or playing monkey in the middle.

5. Have a Treasure Hunt — Make up some clues for your kids to follow to hunt around the house for a hidden treat.

6. Do a craft — Paint, color, make play clay, blow bubbles, or gather up some random bits and pieces and see what your kids’ imaginations can come up with!

7. Exercise — Sometimes a rainy day calls for burning off some extra energy. Break out your exercise videos and get moving. Many cable networks offer lots of exercise shows on demand, or you can usually check out an exercise DVD at your local video store or library.

8. Get Cooking! — Plan a meal or special recipe as a family. Take a trip to the grocery and buy what you’ll need, then come home and work together to prepare your menu. When it’s time to eat, put out your best tablecloth, good china, and some candlelight and enjoy your kitchen creation!

9. Build a Fort — Break out all the cushions, pillows and blankets and build a giant indoor fort. When it is made, pull in your sleeping bags, a special snack, and some flashlights, and cuddle up with a great book.

10. Let it Rain! — Who cares if it’s raining…button up your overcoats, pull on your galoshes, and go play oustide! Run, splash and fool around. Then when everybody is done, gather for a wam bath or some hot chocolate and cookies.

Have a Wonderful Spring Break!
Glory

Fruit Dip Gone Healthy

2011-03-31T15:26:00.000-07:00

"Can we have dessert?"

I hear that every day, sometimes a dozen times a day. I'm not joking. Our kids love dessert.

And who doesn't? Are any of us really so mature that we don't eyeball the candy racks, bakery shelves, and cookie aisles once in awhile?

Curbing the sugar craving, however, is a skill that is already difficult for grown ups, let alone a hopping toddler or preschooler whose tastebuds are hardwired for sweet. And the seasons don't help matters one bit, either. Shortly after the Christmas sugar rush is the allure of Valentine's chocolates, then minty St. patties, then Easter egg-shaped sugar-bombs, then a full Summer of any sweetened milk, yogurt, juice, fudge that can be frozen. Tummy ache, yet? And I haven't even started in on Halloween candy and bountiful Thanksgiving baking.

So, knowing what I know about my children, they like fruit enough to eat it as a snack or as part of their lunch but for dessert? That's a little trickier so I have to either cut it all up into a fruit salad or bake it into something that can be topped off with ice cream. That kind of defeats the purpose of sugar reduction, though. So what solution did I come up with?

Enter Agave. "Agave nectar or syrup is the juice of the agave plant, which is filtered and heated (raw agave syrup is heated only to 118 degrees F) to create a syrup of a consistency slightly thinner than honey. Agave syrup contains some nutrients including iron and calcium. Unlike white sugar, no animal products are used in filtering. Agave syrup is mainly fructose and glucose though ratios vary from 56% to 92% fructose depending on the agave variety. Because of the high fructose content, agave nectar doesn't raise your blood sugar as much as most other sweeteners."

So, turning fruit into a presentable dessert is actually very easy:

Agave Fruit Dip

1 8 oz pkg low fat cream cheese, or neufchatel cheese, softened
1/2 cup agave nectar
1 tsp vanilla extract

Place all ingredients in a deep bowl and blend with handmixer until smooth. Chill until ready to serve with apple wedges, banana slices, whole strawberries, or other crunchy fruit.

"Yes, we can have dessert!"

Enjoy!

Glory

My Old Cookbook: Old Fashioned Baked Beans

2011-03-28T10:08:00.000-07:00

My mother has two copies of this cookbook by Meta Given, one well-kept edition which was discovered in a used bookstore and another well-used copy which has been in her kitchen for decades. The pages are stained with the ingredients that have been a part of our mealtimes since I can remember. It may not be the only cookbook she owns but there is something so comforting to any domestic chef to have a dog eared and tattered friend who's seen a thing or two sitting in the kitchen offering advice and instruction on feeding bodies and souls. I have a copy of that same book so for me it's also like having my mother working alongside me. I like that feeling.

So, today, there is Meta Given's Old Fashioned Baked Beans on the menu, with a few personal tweaks.

2 lbs. dried navy beans (I use pinto with satisfactory results)
1 medium onion, chopped
1 Tablespoon salt
4 teaspoons cider vinegar
1 teaspoon prepared mustard
1/2 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup molasses
1/4 cup ketchup
pinch black pepper
*I left out the salt pork from this recipe simply because I didn't have it

My method: Sort beans and place in large pot. Cover with 2 inches water. Bring to a boil on stove. Remove from heat and allow to sit for 1 hour. Drain and rinse beans, discarding liquid. Return to Dutch oven; add 4 qts. water. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat; cover and simmer for 1 hour or until the beans are almost tender. Drain and reserve liquid. Combine beans with the remaining ingredients. Transfer to two ungreased 2-1/2-qt. baking dishes or bean pots. Add 1-1/2 cups reserved cooking liquid to each casserole; stir to combine. Cover and bake at 325° for 3 to 3-1/2 hours or until beans are as thick as desired, stirring occasionally. Add more of the reserved cooking liquid if needed. Yield: 16-18 servings.

Enjoy!
Glory

Don't Be Afraid {repost}

2011-03-14T10:38:00.000-07:00

{February 22, 2010}

The family and I were at the beach at Waldport, Oregon, this weekend. With the blue sky, relatively calm ocean waves and very little wind, we wondered if this really was the latter part of February or May. This is not winter in the Northwest to be sure.

Before we left for home on Sunday, we walked on the beach one last time. The kids ran and played and we drank in the sounds and smells of the beach before we had to head home. I had the kids close their eyes to listen to the waves. I told them to take a deep breath and smell the saltiness of the air. I asked them to remember these moments. When they are in their beds at night waiting for sleep to come, they could remember these times on the beach and retreat back to them.

The Oregon coast is one of our favorite places. We get the spectrum of emotion when visiting. We see the ocean at its angriest in early winter. In the summer, the ocean sometimes pitches a fit but it mostly behaves like a toddler frolicking, kicking around and having a good time. The ocean this weekend was a little flirtacious, teasing us but really meaning no harm.

But in a brief display of might, the teasing ocean yesterday wasn't anything one would want to mess with. It was with that background that I read a little from Mark 6: 48-51:

48He saw the disciples straining at the oars, because the wind was against them. About the fourth watch of the night he went out to them, walking on the lake. He was about to pass by them, 49but when they saw him walking on the lake, they thought he was a ghost. They cried out, 50because they all saw him and were terrified. "Immediately he spoke to them and said, 'Take courage! It is I. Don't be afraid.' 51Then he climbed into the boat with them, and the wind died down."

While reading, I asked Murron, our seven-year-old to imagine being on a boat in the waves, being afraid, and then seeing a ghost, and being more afraid, but then realizing it was Jesus, who said to not be afraid. Watching the waves, it wasn't hard imagining what I would do in that situation.

But when God says not to be afraid, He means it. If He made the winds and the seas, then there really shouldn't be anything to fear. It's a constant lesson. But to actually obey the Lord and not fear when things appear to be out of control would be a great thing. Until then, or at least while trying, I'm still begging the Lord to get in the boat with me. I don't want to be out in the storm alone.

Bill

Covering

2011-03-04T13:19:00.000-08:00

"But a woman dishonors her head if she prays or prophesies without a covering on her head, for this is the same as shaving her head. Yes, if she refuses to wear a head covering, she should cut off all her hair! But since it is shameful for a woman to have her hair cut or her head shaved, she should wear a covering."
1 Corinthians 11:5, 6

You know, I don't actually have a problem with these verses!

Call me old fashioned or stereotyped but shaved hair on a woman does not look feminine. I understand that there are women who do so because of health reasons or to promote awareness of health issues. As a matter of choice, however, I will grow my hair to whatever length I am able. Maybe I feel this way because my hair has always been thin and fine like baby's hair. Nonetheless, I have gained quite an appreciation for attractive and stylish headwear ever since hats reemerged as the fashion must-haves they, in my candid opinion, have always been.

So, here's a few of the possibilities I have enjoyed discovering and will keep my eyes and available cash ready for:

Super fun and fabulous!

Elizabeth totally rocks the beret look. So not fair!

Classy yet can work with a pair of good jeans or long black skirt.

My favorite! Outrageous, bold, and still sophisticated. I LOVE the French!!!

Glory

lovely tangle

2011-03-02T10:54:00.000-08:00

Recently I have read several blogs that have been refreshing and comforting to me as I struggle to make sense of how I am to spend my days and hours and minutes. What has really inspired me the most is how real and open these writers are in sharing their lessons learned, their wisdom gained, and their sins forgiven. I have felt necessarily uncomfortable as their stories have shed a gentle light into the hiding places of my heart and mind. It has confirmed how much farther I have to go in appropriating God's mercy and grace toward me and sharing those holy virtues with others.

lovely tangle is my open journal and outpouring of prayer and praise to the One who gives me courage and strength to be who He has called me to be. I want to invite you, readers and friends, to walk with me and offer your insights into this mysterious world of God's unending love and grace. I hope you visit whenever you can!

Glory

Dinner on a Dime

2011-03-01T08:52:00.000-08:00

Our family is usually very discriminating in food tastes. We never eat white bread, we mostly bake from scratch, and even pancakes and waffles don't come from a mix. It has even become a bit of a joke around our friends, as our oldest declared one July 4th potluck gathering, "I don't eat processed potato salad." Indeed that basic Summer staple is made entirely by hand at the haven.

So it was a drastic departure from the norm, on Sunday evening, when I tossed a few boxes of mac n cheese into the grocery cart. Bill nearly went tachycardia on me until I explained as only a desperate housewife can, "I REALLY NEED something fast and easy to fix for lunches..." Being a little breathless from the snow-chilled air may have helped appeal to him, too.

I set to work boiling the water, checking the pasta to make sure it wasn't getting too soft (I really prefer my noodles firm to the bite). Then, once drained, I was about to add the remaining ingredients when a bold flash of inspired creativity struck me. I just can't leave a decent recipe well enough alone! The resulting dish was quite nearly elevated to fine cuisine status. My secret? Sour cream. No butter or milk. Just about 4 - 6 tablespoons sour cream blended in with the "cheese product" packet and the flavor is fabulous. Add a few dashes of fresh ground pepper, garlic powder, dry mustard, or other savory herbs and it becomes a dish you could even proudly bring to a social gathering.

The real trick to preparing good meals out of a box or can is imagination, friends. Just because it comes with instructions printed on the side does not mean you have to follow them exactly and to the letter. Cooking is fun, for crying out loud, so it's okay to play with ingredients. Got a can of chili and a package of hot dogs? Chop those puppies into the chili and add some brown sugar and barbecue sauce. Cream of mushroom soup and cooked rice? Mix them up, shape into balls, drizzle with a bit of melted butter and bake until golden brown. A family size can of potato soup, 1/2 lb of browned and drained bulk Italian sausage and some extra minced onion gets you something pretty darn close to Olive Garden's Zuppa Toscana!

So shed those it-has-to-be-scratch inhibitions, grab a few of those convenience grocery items, and have fun creating!

Glory

Murron-Bones' Birthday

2011-02-22T15:50:00.001-08:00

You are eight years old today.

That is so hard to believe! You are still as sweet, as adorable, and as innocent as the day you were born but your sass and smarts give it away that you're well beyond babyhood. You're not even a toddler or preschooler. You know too much and you've grown too big. Just not so big that you don't tearfully explain with quivering chin that someone hurt your feelings. Not so old that you don't kiss our lips when we say goodnight. And not quite grown up enough to not need our loving reminders or discipline. But big enough to ask if you can walk yourself a quarter of a mile to school (NO). Old enough to tell the orthodonstist the complicated tongue-tying four-syllable last name of your reading teacher. And grown up enough to listen to our instruction and wisdom and obey even when you don't understand.

You love to have fun, have a gorgeous smile, and possess a fabulous sense of humor. You are an artist, organizer, big sister, little mommy, faithful friend, and beloved daughter. We love you, our Murron-Bones!

Every Thought Captive: Battling the Toxic Beliefs that Separate Us from the Life We Crave (NavPress)

2011-02-18T10:37:00.000-08:00

There's havoc at the Haven! February is by far one of the busiest months so blogging inevitably falls off the priority list followed by dusting and washing windows...

So, I am offering my first attempt at a book review (yes, I try to read books, when I find something that grips my attention and between status updates on facebook). A clumsy effort which should be expected from an awkward girl like me.

Before perusing the library shelf in my search for something I could read at will, I'd never heard of author Jerusha Clark. To be honest her first name, which means "married, a possession" intrigues me. I love unusual names but hers has an almost ancient mystical sound to it.

What makes her book "Every Thought Captive" such an easy one to pick up and read whenever I find a few moments is how conversational Jerusha is in her writing. As women we carry on dialogue all day long, sometimes pausing or coming back to topics later on. It isn't so much about what she's actually saying on paper but how she says it. Friendly, warm, and reassuring that she knows what I struggle with and I believe her.

"Every Thought Captive" deals with the thoughts that plague us and prevent us from living joyful and free lives. Relying mostly on personal stories, hers and others, Jerusha applies scripture to affix truths that she has learned. As a whole the chapter format is organized and flows well. This is very important for me as I'm frequently interrupted and need to be able to pick up where I've left off.

Which, right now, is the middle of Chapter 5.

Glory

Isaiah

2011-02-02T09:12:00.000-08:00

For the past couple of weeks I've found myself flipping my Bible pages to Isaiah. There is so much that this evangelical prophet has to say about the coming Messiah that it's like reading the Gospel in the Old Testament.

There is a certain effect that the words of this man of God has on the reader. Emotions can range from despair to delight, stubbornness to surrender, remorse to rejoicing.

Chapter 12 reads like a beautiful Psalm of praise or hymn to God. Let these words fill your heart with joy.

Isaiah 12 ~ Songs of Praise for Salvation

1 - In that day you will sing:
“I will praise you, O Lord!
You were angry with me, but not any more.
Now you comfort me.
2 - See, God has come to save me.
I will trust in him and not be afraid.
The Lord God is my strength and my song;
he has given me victory.”
3 - With joy you will drink deeply
from the fountain of salvation!
4 - In that wonderful day you will sing:
“Thank the Lord! Praise his name!
Tell the nations what he has done.
Let them know how mighty he is!
5 - Sing to the Lord, for he has done wonderful things.
Make known his praise around the world.
6 - Let all the people of Jerusalem[a] shout his praise with joy!
For great is the Holy One of Israel who lives among you.”

Glory

In Participation With:

Family First

2011-02-01T09:38:00.000-08:00

Bill and I have four kids. Elizabeth is 17, Murron is 7, Uilleam is 5, and MacAulay is 3. A nice size to some and a big family to others. Having grown up as the 13th child in a family of 15 kids I have to laugh in protest. But we certainly are busy and anticipate even fuller schedules as the kids get older. Elizabeth, for example, is involved on our church's youth group so she is committed every Friday night.

Church, for that matter, is a big part of our family's activities throughout the week. Whether Bill is taking part in cleaning the church or other work, or I am leading the worship ministry or joining the ladies for fellowship, we could easily have something to do every day of the week. That sometimes puts a strain on the family unit, though, especially if we haven't connected as much. We have heard similar stories from others in our church and that's how Family First Fridays came about. Bill and I launched this monthly event in September where we show a family friendly movie and it has become very popular in our church. Our family has enjoyed it greatly.

More recently we have come to realize that our family needs a family night of our own, each week. We looked at our weekly schedules and concluded that, for the time being, Thursday nights are it. It's something so important to me that, a few weeks ago, I had to fight for it as time was getting away and bad attitudes were threatening to mess it up. I went mother bear! So, within moments we were all settled around the table playing Chutes and Ladders, and teaching lessons on winning and losing. We have watched a movie together, had dinner out, and played games. The kids enjoy it and we all have fun and laugh a lot. And, not surprisingly, we've grabbed opportunities to spend family time other days of the week. It is our hope and prayer that, along with chores and devotions, our kids leave home with a storehouse of memories of these special moments at home.

Glory

Farmers just wanna have fun. {repost}

2011-01-31T09:30:00.000-08:00

Last Friday morning I was at Shari's restaurant writing a little bit and reading my Bible when I got distracted.

He was a 50-something farmer in coveralls who looked a little like Hoss and sounded like a tobacco farmer in eastern North Carolina I met once.

He struck up a conversation with the waitress.

"You remind me of someone," he told her in his transplanted Tarheel accent. "You look like a movie star."

The waitress, though she was a pleasant looking middle-aged blonde, didn't look like any movie star I've seen. She smiled, told the man that if she were a movie star she wouldn't be working the morning shift at Shari's. She poured the man his coffee.

A few minutes later while making her rounds, the man again remarked on the waitress' celebrity appearance. This time she just muttered politely and went about her business.

Another few minutes later while she was approaching his table, the man exclaimed, "Cyndi Lauper!" He then went into a long story about seeing Cyndi Lauper opening for Cher several years ago. Actually, it must have been more than 20 years ago. The waitress' reply was non nonplus, acknowledging the man with a few forced interjections of "oh really," and "wow."

Through the surprising turn in this exchange I started thinking: What was a tranplanted North Carolinean farmer from the hills of Washington doing going to a Cyndi Lauper concert? Surely the singer of the '80s with colorful hair must have made quite the impression on this man of the soil for it to have been burned in his memory all these years. I wondered what works of other singers make up his music collection. Naturally, I had pegged his musical tastes to be that of Clint Black, Trisha Yearwood, Tanya Tucker or a plethora of other country stars who twang out tales of momma, trucks, patriotism and honky tonks. But no. Here's a man who swooned to hearing about girls wanting to have fun and true colors shining through. Perhaps he understood the deeper meaning to Cyndi's tune about the Goonies.

If I were that waitress, I would have parked myself beside this complex man and picked his brain awhile. Inside that man wearing coveralls and a ballcap was a man who was more than tractors, hay and cows.

Perhaps he even went to a Culture Club concert once.

Bill

It Is Well - Part 3: Fit or Flight?

2011-01-27T09:05:00.000-08:00

In the spirit of honesty there are certain facts that truly must be shared. According to the BMI chart for women I should weigh 50 pounds less than I do. Basically, after plugging in my height and weight, the darling little online calculator has this gem for me: A BMI of 30 or more is considered obese. Being obese increases your risk for serious conditions such as heart disease, diabetes, and high blood pressure. See your doctor to learn how to manage your weight.

Nice. Lovely. This news gets me so excited I feel like having hot cocoa and a cruller. Wanna come to my pity party? Actually, it's not news. It's old and repetitive like an 80's ballad that won't stop getting airplay. "Time after time..."

Since beating my personal dragon and getting my driver's license, I find myself tempted beyond sense and reason to pile the kids in the van to take Murron to school. Not a big deal, you might think, plenty of other moms drive their children around. Okay, then, do these "other" moms drive their kids a quarter mile to school? 440 yards. 1320 feet. 0.40233 kilometers. In my defense, this has only happened in the rain, so far, but the lure to take the easy way is hard to resist, some days. I suppose that's why it's a good thing that we only have one multi-passenger vehicle. It forces me to pop the kids in the jogging stroller, instead, and walk half a mile. It's not very impressive, I know. I should be continuing my walk around an extra half mile, or whole mile, or even five miles. I don't but I should.

I don't because it's not attractive or interesting. The entertainment value of a brisk walk for exercise is, in my opinion, like polishing silver or raising chickens. We don't own silver and chickens definitely don't want me in charge of their upkeep. Ever. Bill, on the other hand, not only enjoys a brisk walk but he runs to work, runs home from work, runs around the city, runs on the treadmill, and runs half marathons. It's kind of like he's running from something, and I suppose he is. He's running from the weight he used to be because he knows it could catch up to him if he doesn't. He's running from the health issues that have caused him to take prescribed medicines. He's running from depression, negative emotions, and real or imagined demons. He's become very good at it, too.

So, I ask myself often why I run to confort, pleasure, food, or ease. What do I really fear about exercise that I am so easily drawn to what's most convenient, at the time? Why do I avoid healthy changes to my physical activity level and instead maintain my lazy habits? When will I get tired of my tight waistbands and fatigue and fight back with running shoes and resolution?

My thinking is what needs to change the most before I see any physical changes in myself. I have to see exercise and activity as the committment to discipline it really is. And that, I know, is what I'm most afraid of and have run the farthest to escape. But, in so doing, I have run to things that have not been beneficial and have actually done me little good. Sure, food and comfort are important, and pleasure enriches our lives. But having neglected to balance these things with disciplined activities has resulted in a level of gluttony that goes beyond gorging. No, I am not consuming whole pies and pizzas but I will admit that I nibble on sentiment and nostalgia of my slender past. I stuff my mind with self-pity and regret over mistakes. And I overfeed on excuses and jusitfications. The results of this unhealthy mental and emotional binging is a wild and dangerous craving that cannot be satisfied.

The only certain effective weapon is committed daily active discipline, both in body and spirit. To successfully defeat this unruly appetite I must fight energetically, on my knees and on my feet. I need to oppose those things that would prevent my victory with every scripture I've learned and memorized and each aerobic set and rep. Avoiding the urge to flee I need to persevere in all my efforts to be fit in every way. I know that excess weight, health issues, and depressed thinking will always be on my heels, trying to catch up. But if I exercise my will and keep my thoughts set on my goal then I can stay ahead of my pursuers and be ready for the tasks that God has for me.

Glory

Bittersweet Discipline {repost}

2011-01-25T13:29:00.000-08:00

Since early in our marriage Bill and I have kept special chocolate treats in our bedroom. These decadent treasures have ranged from simple chocolate kisses to extra special dark chocolates. Bill and I like to give these to each other at random moments and often secretly. They're not so much a secret anymore, however.

The girls have known to keep out of this private collection for a long time, now, but the boys have stumbled upon their discovery and had been looting our trove like bandits. So today was no different as I was occupied in another room when I heard a terrible crash. Elizabeth was the first to investigate and let out a shriek. I came into our room and quickly sent both boys to their rooms and asked Elizabeth to make sure that was where they stayed until I was finished. Bill’s tall dresser, which held the chocolates was tipped completely onto its face assuring me what they’d been after. After cleaning up the mess it was remarkable that only one thing had broken, a perfume bottle. Even more surprising was the fact that neither of the boys were hurt in any way.

As I walked to our oldest boy’s room I could hear him sniffling then, as I entered, he wailed, “I’m so sorry, Mommy.” I hugged him close and told him I knew that but what he did was so dangerous that he can’t do it ever again. I told him I had to discipline him and he took it like the little man he is. Afterward he said, “Let’s pray, Mommy.” I held him as he told God he was sorry, that what he did was dangerous, thanking God that no one got hurt, and thankful that I’d disciplined him. He was thankful for the consequence! He is only four years old but in his little tender heart he understands the meaning of correction and that I love him enough to do it. I sat there and cried, at which he started laughing and said, “Don’t cry, Baby” I cried even more and he laughed again and said, “You’re not a baby!” I then went into our youngest son’s room and went through the same process, with slightly different results, but we prayed too. Still too young to appreciate his lesson, like his older brother, but accepting his discipline nonetheless.

I’m left to think about my own heart and how I accept correction. I’m not the most obedient child and I’m not always thankful for God’s discipline. But while the broken bottle of perfume sits on the dresser and fills this room with it’s aroma, I will remember the sweet repentant words of my son and try to follow his example as best I can.

Glory

It Is Well - Part 2: Water Pure and Simple

2011-01-24T10:08:00.000-08:00

On December 27th of 2010 I turned 40. We were in Saskatchewan, Canada celebrating Christmas with family. There were thoughtful gifts, meaningful cards, and delicious cake. Surrounded by a loving family and a spirit of joy, I feel wonderfully blessed to have experienced such an event. I want to be able to celebrate many more birthdays, Christmases, and special occasions to come.

My health has never been in peril but I have endured problems and challenges that, by God’s grace and medical wisdom, have been managed and corrected. Being sick, recently, caused something to happen (I’ll spare you the details) that was annoying and frustrating. Maybe it’s the farm-girl in me that squats down with a wheat straw and sage advice on her lips that makes me self-diagnose so often. Revving up the search engines, I read about things like acidophilus, cranberry, saw palmetto, and herbs and homeopaths I’ve never heard of in my whole adult life. After a couple days trying to resolve things “the natural way” without much progress I cut out all other beverages and started to drink water. Lots of water. Nearly camel portions of water! And, not very surprisingly, it made a difference. While I did end up purchasing an OTC medicine, I have felt significantly better and may still avoid a doctor’s visit.

Water is the oldest and simplest of homeopaths. It cleanses, soothes, refreshes, replenishes, and even heals. Just do a simple online search for properties and benefits of water and you will be as surprised as I was! Water is also very easy to incorporate into our diet. Just drink it, regularly and often. Again the internet has some great ideas on how to develop the water habit. It can be as simple as drinking a glass of water for every cup of coffee, tea, milk, juice, or soda that you drink during the day.

Thank You, God for giving us water to drink for the health of our bodies!

Psalms 78:16 He brought streams also out of the rock, and caused waters to run down like rivers.

*disclaimer: this blog is not intended to replace a relationship with a health care provider and should be viewed from an entertainment perspective, thanks!*

Glory

It Is Well – Part 1: Gratitude Check

2011-01-21T13:46:00.000-08:00

Last night could have been a disaster. I had plans for a family game night and, by 5:30 p.m., it looked like my agenda was being threatened. Did you catch that honest evaluation, right there? That alone is progress, folks, something I could celebrate like New Year’s Eve! So, after some firm words, dinner, more words, assembling the kids around the table, and still more (louder) words, it was 7 p.m. and Chutes and Ladders was finally underway! “Victory, O, Victory is mine…!” While we played one child (who will be unnamed) was getting upset because the spinner kept hitting low numbers. Advancing up the board was too slow and a few tears were shed (hence the reason for withholding the name). Eventually the spinner landed this certain player one space away from the coveted ladder: the one that would spell instant win. In a stroke of good luck the spinner landed on 1 and this player celebrated like a champion athlete! It was exciting to watch, of course, but I had to wonder what the reaction would have been if someone else had won. I know how I’ve reacted and pathetic doesn’t even describe it remotely well enough.

Lately, I have come to accept that there is much about my attitude that needs to change, namely my reaction to unexpected, unpleasant, or uncomfortable outcomes. Why is that, you may wonder. Well, silly reader, I am just as much a whiner baby, at times, as my kids can be, or anyone else for that matter. It bugs me when things don’t go my way and that’s the simple truth of it. The problem, however, is that once I start nitpicking things it’s hard to stop. Then it becomes a habit and the habit becomes a lifestyle until I become the mean old lady that no one wants to visit or have over for dinner. That's very sad but very true, friends. So, in a moment of revelation, I thought about gratitude, the best antidote to grumbling. Then I started to think about what I am thankful for. Simple things. Real things. Honest things. And this is what I came up with. Can you think of a similar list?

Thank You, God, for allowing and even inviting me to talk to You about everything that's on my mind and heart. Thank You for sending Your Son to save me from myself, because I know how easily I mess everything up. Thank You for all Your blessings that I could never deserve, despite my absurd attempts to earn them.

Thank you, Bill, for loving me in spite of everything you know about me. Thank you for being the husband and father I’ve only ever dreamed of partnering with. Thank you for being a man of godly character and conviction when it would be so easy to just give up trying.

Thank you, Elizabeth, Murron, Uilleam, and MacAulay for needing me when I so often doubt my abilities to offer anything to you. Thank you for trying so hard to meet my expectations when your blood runs crazy wild with childhood energy and unpredictability. Thank you for coming to me for hugs and kisses, and letting me hug and kiss you back.

Thank you, friends, for giving me an outlet for my outrageous comments and behavior. Thank you for helping me develop my social skills when, sometimes, I’d rather curl up under a blanket and hide. Thank you for accepting me into your own uniquely blessed lives.

Glory

Introducing Jen of Vivi Mae Creations!

2011-01-21T09:16:00.000-08:00

I'm always excited about people I know starting blogs, and love to introduce them to anyone who stops by the Haven for a visit.

Vivi Mae Creations is a new blog from Jen, a sweet wife and mother of four kids. Vivi Mae Creations is her home based business and she offers unique and beautiful handmade crocheted hats, scarves and other creative and warm items.

Way to go, Jen!

~ Glory

Get Well

2011-01-19T12:30:00.000-08:00

Now that our family is FINALLY over the worst of the cold and flu season the time has come to restore healthy habits and better eating. This can be much easier said than done, though, since our family does not have the reputation of established routines, set bedtimes, and regular meals. We're not CPS targets, either, but honestly, daily schedules don't just bore me, I tend to run fast and far away from them. They feel restricting and uncomfortable, like a time-out chair. And we don't have a time-out chair.

Hearing a crude symphony of sneezing-coughing-sniffling-groaning-retching-*insert other unmentionable body functions* for nearly a month, however, did warrant some drastic measures such as bleach washes and menu changes. I feel this is where I must clarify some points. Firstly, while we are not continually washing our hands or cleaning something 50 times a day as some do, neither are we total slobs who don't care about the appearance of our home or ourselves, for that matter. Ketchup marks the corners of our kids' mouths, sometimes, but we try to remind them to wash their hands after eating, using the bathroom, or touching anything dirty or offensive *cough*slugs*cough* Secondly, gardening dreams are yet to become reality and our food budget is not substantial enough to include too many organic, raw, natural products. But fast food, pre-made meals, and convenience items rarely make it onto our grocery shopping list, if ever. Homemade meals and balanced menus are what we strive for and are usually able to accomplish regularly. Finally, being a household of six kind of implies a busy life. No, we are not members of any health club or fitness center. But parenting employs unique muscle groups that must be strong enough to handle anything a 17, 7, 5, and 3 year-old can dish out. Most of the time.

If there is any area of our lives that needs routine wellness intervention it's attitudes. Getting sick makes us grumpy, tired, and irritable. Noises and other discomforts are amplified and increased. Essentially, life feels bad and people aren't nice! Of course, that's exaggerated thinking but whining has no limits and self-pity violates the boundaries of common sense and reason. And having a sick mind isn't corrected with bed rest or medicines. We've tried! Unhealthy thoughts don't come from any kind of bacteria or virus so immunizations and antibiotics are ineffective in treating them. As believers we know the only therapy we can be sure of is time in God's Word, prayer, and worshipful service. It gets our focus back on Him and our purpose for living. Then, even when physical illness wreaks havoc on our bodies, a spirit that is right and healthy can help us get through it and we can still say with confident assurance "Whatever my lot Thou hast taught me to say 'It is well, it is well with my soul.'"

Glory

Interrupted Life

2011-01-05T21:54:00.000-08:00

So much about today is hardly worth noting. Why I would even write about it is somewhat puzzling. There is nothing significant about the date nor the events which occurred. The only thing that prompts me to record anything at all is one similar theme: interruption.

Every member of our family has been sick to one degree or another for the past couple of weeks, now. I had my turn most recently but have since recovered to a functional level. It was the plan, however, that Bill would take Murron to school early on his way to work so she could have breakfast and, "make some friends," as she expressed it. As the alarm sounded this morning I knew that would simply not be the case. Sure enough Bill slowly shuffled his weakened body to the phone and left a message at the office that he was unable to go in. Murron was already dressed and getting ready to leave so I got prepared to walk her to school. When I opened the door, though, I quickly realized that the rain would soak us both through so I drove our 2nd grader to school.

When I arrived back home Bill quickly excused himself from watching the boys and tucked himself back into bed. I got busy planning a healthful dinner of soup cooked in the crock pot and homemade bread. Midway through the bread rising, however, the power went out. I said something we generally don't like our children to say and placed the shaped bread dough in the refrigerator to slow their rising. I was irritated and reacted poorly, I admit. I thought Bill was awake and burst into our room with the news that our power was out. It wasn't the best move on my part but eventually he forgave the rude awakening. Our candlelit lunch consisted of potato chips and fruit. It was close to an hour and the lights came back on to every ones joy and relief. The bread went into the oven and Aulay went down for a nap.

Elizabeth had agreed to pick Murron up from school this afternoon but I was starting to have my doubts when it was getting closer to the time school lets out and she hadn't yet arrived. Again I prepared to walk the quarter-mile and I saw her at the end of the street. As I caught up with her my annoyance was apparent as I asked her why she was late and stated my opinions on the matter quite forcefully. A short time later, waiting in front of the school, the kids were let out and Murron arrived with only one glove. Perturbed, the three of us retraced her steps and then it was discovered that she had also forgotten her lunch box. Several minutes later than planned, after finding it in the lunch room, we made our way home.

Later this evening, having enjoyed our dinner and a fun movie, we gathered to listen to Bill's Bible reading and pray before bed. There was something in particular that Bill wanted to read, though, and I was slightly bothered at the departure from our normal routine. He found the verses in 2nd Kings chapter 4 where the prophet Elisha foretells that a wealthy woman whose husband was elderly would have a son. This was not part of her plan yet she did become pregnant and gave birth to a son exactly when the prophet said she would. Some years later the boy complained of a headache and was brought to their home and died. Again the woman reminded Elisha that she hadn't wanted anyone to raise her hopes in the first place. Yet after Elisha healed her son she fell at his feet, bowed to the ground, then simply left with her boy.

Recalling all that happened, today, has certainly brought up some unpleasant facts about my reactions to being interrupted. In reality I don't handle disruptions to my plans or expectations well at all. Whether it's a moderate disturbance to my daily routine or an intrusion that greatly alters my schedule I will either become slightly annoyed or completely aggravated. While this definitely isn't any new discovery to me, I am aware of far more important implications, regarding my availability to God for ministry. Opportunities to pray for, encourage, or even assist those that He brings my way don't make it into my itinerary and there usually isn't a lot of advance notice, either. Today I didn't have to look far for those God-interruptions, either, as my husband and kids were all close-by. Except now, at near-midnight, when all are in bed except me. This wasn't planned, either, but that's okay.

Glory

Autumn Stirring

2010-10-13T11:43:00.000-07:00

Driving past shades of saffron yellow and tangerine orange trees a gentle cascade of thin dry leaves swirled and danced in the air before they fell to the ground. My heart is invariably and equally stirred by this quiet yet profound scene. Another season is marking its presence while another year is gradually coming to an end.

The morning sun is delayed by the protracted dark and chill. Blankets are pulled more tightly around us before we not quite so bravely rise out of our beds and begin our daily routines. We decide on hot cereal laden with crystalline brown sugar and hot coffee for breakfast. Layers of thick wool, cotton, or acrylic are topped with colorful scarves, hats, and gloves before we head off to work or school. Those who stay home snuggle together while reading books, writing letters, or simply sharing the warmth of family closeness. Intuitively we light deliciously scented candles, plan aromatic spiced meals, and bake up enticing goodies. We foster our senses and feed our bodies in subconscious attempts to fill our souls.

Somehow I become more aware of my inadequacies and deficits. Perhaps it is the slowing down of activity that allows me more time to ponder my deep longings and desires. The contrasts of moods become even more obvious now than before. I always wonder why the Fall season evokes such feelings of comfort and loneliness; a vast spectrum of emotions from discontent to resignation. One moment I am relaxed and at ease but a lingering sense of disquiet and fretfulness simmer within me. I yearn for consolation yet I will permit my thoughts to be consumed with insecurity. The landscape outside reflects the paradox within.

Possibly for this very reason God directs our attention to His blessings and goodness. He knows how likely we are to withdraw ourselves and delve into despair at things left undone and questions unanswered. We are left wanting and God responds to our heart’s cry with assurance and grace. He gives abundantly and we receive with thankfulness.

"You crown the year with Your goodness, and your paths with abundance." (Psalm 65:11)

Glory

Popcorn and Coffee

2010-10-06T12:54:00.000-07:00

This morning I went to pull on my thrift store triumph: a $5 pair of Calvin Klein jeans. Before I washed them, yesterday, I noticed the inside tag which noted that their size was actually 4 sizes smaller than what I usually wear. Sure, they were just a bit snug when I tried them on in the fitting room, but I loved how they hugged my thighs and didn’t flap around too much around my ankles. As I wiggled into them this morning, however, I discovered that they had shrunk down to their proper size. I had a lot more than a muffin top; there’s streusel and cream cheese frosting on this cupcake. So disappointing!

Now, I must be honest here. My first thought was not to return them or anything like that. After all, it wouldn’t be the only clothing item I own that I can’t squeeze into, yet. Rather, my first thought was popcorn and coffee. Not exactly comfort food but actually a weight loss and management strategy that worked once to make me look oh so skinny and hot. Yes, I was a hottie, at one time, and I consider those to be my glory days when guys’ heads would turn and girls’ eyes would shade green. I fancy that many boyfriends were in big trouble with their girlfriends on my account. True or not, I looked great, and I wish I still did.

So, now I’m mentally budgeting popcorn and coffee purchases. It’s a weird diet, and not very nutritious at all. Okay, let’s be real. It’s a terrible thing to do to one’s body. It’s a crash diet, after all, solely focused on losing weight and keeping it off. No exercise or portion control is necessary. No calories to count, either. Just a simple eat enough popcorn to feel full and drink enough coffee to feel awake, kind of idea. Not a very difficult plan to begin and quite easy to continue indefinitely.

The cool thing, now, is that there are literally endless varieties of popcorn available for snacking. Sweet and salty kettle corn with freshly brewed coffee makes a pleasing breakfast, olive oil and basil seasoned popcorn with an Americano is a nice gourmet lunch, and a robust parmesan cheese popcorn for dinner with a chai spiced mocha is quite nearly perfect. Add a bit of dried fruit, nuts, or even chocolate chips and the nutritional value issue is a moot point. Actually, in case you haven’t noticed yet, I really do like popcorn that much to try every possible combination of flavors.

Some of my girlfriends say they enjoy food too much to eat only popcorn and coffee. Believe me, I do too, but a sassy pair of skinny jeans looks a whole lot better on this body than a breakfast of waffles, a lunch of tacos, and a dinner of meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and green beans. You know, I wonder if Lowry’s makes a popcorn seasoning that tastes like cashew chicken.

Glory

Dragons Can Be Beaten

2010-10-04T14:21:00.000-07:00

“Fairy Tales are more than true; not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten.” ~ G. K. Chesterton

Tragic beginnings are part of many fairy tales that I can recall from childhood – a beloved father’s death, an abducted child, a violent eviction from one’s home. For me it was an incident that affected me far more deeply and for much longer than I would have ever expected. It was my first introduction to my personal dragon and a moment that would haunt me for decades.

The young inhabitants of our castle had acquired a fun new toy: a small motorized bicycle. It was a fun and delightful day and this little princess was eager to have a turn. She was inexperienced but her siblings made it look so easy, so simple, that she was sure it would be as natural as anything. When she was granted an attempt she mounted the gently humming vehicle without a care or concern.

She tried to mimic the actions of her older brothers and sisters, producing the same sounds they had, and as she felt the wind on her face she felt excited and breathless. Too breathless. She was holding her breath, unable to breathe. Her family saw a wild eyed broadly grinning child enjoying herself. But that was not the truth. She was so panic-stricken that she couldn’t even see the faces that blurred beside her as she rode. Their voices were drowned out by the sound of the motor and something else more loudly and high than that. She was screaming. They couldn’t hear it but she was screaming deep inside with her hands locked tight on the handles. She doesn’t remember how it happened but in an instant it was over.

“Did you see her?” “She went between the tire-changer and the garage!” “We had to grab the bike and yank her off…” The laughter, words, and comments echoed across the days and weeks, the months and the years. So many years that she couldn’t remember what had even happened. What happened? She could remember the beginning and the end. But, as hard as she tried, she had no recollection of what happened. Only an interminable memory of how she felt, and it was terrifying.

She had met her dragon. It was seductive and charming. Entertaining, in fact, and she truly believed that it wanted to be her friend. It disguised itself as free, confident and capable. But when she took hold of its scaly claw she soon realized how it would make her feel in her deepest self. It intimidated her as it mocked her for failing to be in control. She could hear its hissing accusations of her foolish attempt to try something she had never done. Fear, embarrassment, and shame enveloped her as the dragon’s fiery breath almost completely destroyed her hope of ever being able to succeed in the same way again.

She chose to keep these feelings and the fear to herself. When she tried to face the dragon it would point out more recent mistakes and remind her that she couldn’t do whatever it was she was attempting to accomplish. What was she thinking, anyway? She was too impulsive. How would she even manage to gain any experience? She was disorganized and didn’t manage time very well. Would she even know what to do if she was ever granted the privileges she desired? She was notoriously irresponsible.

Many good hearted people from all around the land came to her aid and tried to help her escape the dragon. They offered their time and experience. She was grateful and made several attempts to leave her fears behind. There were even others who fancied themselves to be the heroes and proudly displayed their expertise, which only caused her to feel weaker and less sure of herself. A few of her own family were willing to give her lessons and help her rebuild her confidence but their own lives still needed their attention so she was disappointed in herself, again. She took too long to learn, she needed too much help, and she should just give up.

Resigning herself to never learning was easy, especially since it kept her dragon quiet and asleep. When she met prince charming he spoke very little about her lack of ability to get around at first but very gently and over time would let her try if she felt safe enough to do so. This stirred the dragon a little but it never woke. Gradually the prince would talk about it and this definitely made the dragon uncomfortable so she would make him talk about other things. One day during a family trip they crashed and she caught sight of another dragon. So did the prince and, to her shock and surprise he fought it with all his might and with great skill and courage the dragon was quickly defeated. As she observed this she knew that he would soon help her defeat her own dragon.

More years passed and more chances were given to the princess to escape the dragon’s prison. She still doesn’t know how it happened but she does remember the prince asking her a question and somehow the question reached the sleeping dragon’s ears. It rose and roared at her to be silent but she felt the scream rise out of the center of her heart, the same scream that held her paralyzed as a child so long ago. She shook as tears washed over her face as she told the prince of her fear and losing confidence and failure. His strong arms held her safe from the dragon’s fiery breath and she saw the dragon weaken. She told the prince more and the dragon stopped roaring. When she had told all she remembered the dragon fell back to sleep, exhausted.

So it was that the princess and the prince worked together. He would patiently instruct and teach while she would humbly listen and learn. In time she would ask to go together where she could improve her skill and confidence. The dragon would stir but do nothing when it saw the couple resolved to defeat him, and it knew its end was near.

One day the prince brought the princess to the battlefield where she would finally meet the dragon alone. In her heart she was still afraid and unsure of herself. She tried to remember all she had been taught and all she had learned. As she fought she received a few cuts and scratches but the dragon was now old and weaker than ever before. Even if she hadn’t succeeded at destroying it now she was determined to defeat it nonetheless. When the battle was over and the victory clutched tightly in her grasp she held the prince close and, from deep in the center of her heart, she screamed. With relief, with joy, and with freedom. And the dragon couldn't hear.

Glory

I Am A Real Mom

2010-09-22T15:30:00.000-07:00

The world of facebook got me to think about my role as a mother. The postings about, "Copy and repost if you're proud to be a mom" stuff? Well, it made me think about my less stellar moments and how we never talk about them. And why would we? Moms are infallable, tireless, exceptional examples of human greatness, right? Well, I decided to risk exposing some of my flaws in a therapeutic attempt to say, I Am Real! Enjoy!

Seeing my newborn’s happy grin at 2:46 a.m. didn’t always flood my heart with joy.

Sometimes the “sweet smell” of a baby wasn’t all that sweet, it just smelled.

I didn’t always change my baby’s diaper in a timely manner.

The time my baby rolled over, and off the bed, I didn’t scream because I was thrilled at this milestone in development.

I thwarted all my child’s efforts to climb.

When my baby babbled I put on an Academy-worthy performance of pretending I knew exactly what he was saying.

Co-sleeping was all about me getting more rest and had practically nothing at all to do with bonding or making my baby feel more secure.

I think babies shouldn’t learn to walk until they’re 5. They shouldn’t learn to talk until they’re 20, for that matter.

Potty training is best left in the hands of United States Military supervising officers.

Picky toddlers were the inspiration for food fights, by adults.

I have definitely yelled at my kids, sometimes even when they were being truly naughty.

When my kids ask if they can have a treat or watch a movie I will say no just because Mom can say no.

Muddy fingerprints on the wall will never be works of art.

I’m never mean on purpose.

There comes a very important time when a child gets mildly injured that I have to pretend I didn’t just see that happen.

I don’t completely trust my kids.

A good day is when the kids are alive at the end of it.

Crackers = Food = Lunch

It doesn’t make me a bad mother if I avoid hugging the kids when they’re dirty.

Just being honest, my reasons for homeschooling are not all noble. Unsuitable lunches and late starts are among the less noble reasons.

The fact that God loves my kids more than I ever will is proven every day.

Glory

House of Craig

2010-09-03T11:34:00.000-07:00

We're trying ever so hard to keep track of our kids' wit and wisdoms. It's a good thing, then, that funny is a renewable resource among our children.

Enjoy!

MacAulay's Birthday dinner was followed by cake, of which there were six servings. While everyone was enjoying their delights, Murron cast a shadow over the mood with her proclamation, "Soon, we'll only have five at the table because one of us will pass away." We gasped and asked, "Who?" to which she replied, "Elizabeth is getting older.” Elizabeth’s face was white. We told her, “Not PASS away. She’ll MOVE away.”

Kitchen Moment #148: Bill: (accidentally spills food in the refrigerator and on the floor) "Dang it!" Aulay: (bravely mimics Daddy) "Dang it!" (while Bill cleans up Aulay helps and points to the food on the floor and explains) "That's a dang it."

SLAP! Aulay: " 'etend this is the water!" SLAP! Aulay: "I are swimming!" SLAP! Aulay: "See? I in the water." It takes seriously hardcore imagination to perform bellyflops on the kitchen linoleum!

Poor Ulie! With enormous tears streaming down his dirty little cheeks, he lamented, "The fly bited me!" I asked him to show me where the fly was and, as I suspected, it was actually a bee. After removing the stinger, to soothe his injured feelings, I put a hulk bandaid on his finger. Ulie said, "So the bee will get scared, right?!” You bet, kid!

We were playing piano and trombone duets, tonight, when Ulie remarked, "Hey, it's like The Muppet Show!" Bill's thinking, "What am I, Gonzo?" while Glory's flattered to be compared to Rowlf!

I saw Aulay and thought he'd had a nosebleed. Then I noticed that Ulie's nostrils had red tinges too. It didn't take long to sort out what was going on. Aulay displayed his new skill: get Brach's Cinnamon Imperials, stick one into the nostril, blow it out...I can't even make this stuff up!!!

Bill and the boys got haircuts, yesterday. Ulie believes that boys hair doesn't grow so Murron had to explain that, yes, his hair will grow, too. Ulie insists that his hair will always be short while Murron persisted that boys hair gets long too. How will he know if he always gets haircuts?

Aulay to cops of various kinds at a fire department open house: "Is that your gun?" (touching the holster with sticky hands) and an inquisitive: "Do you kill people?" Kudos to the county deputy who told him that he helps people. It's what he tells his own kids.

Ulie doesn't understand Bill's facial hair. "Why did you go to the bear and get it off and put it on you?" Ulie asked his daddy, perplexed. "Why did you do that?"

Family Room Moment #204: (While watching Bee Movie) Murron: "Does she have a husband?" Elizabeth: "No." Murron: "Then why does she live in a house?"

Ulie: "A penny!" Aulay: "Where da penny?" Ulie: "Right here." Aulay: "Yay, Bruddah!"

Momma got told! While helping Ulie settle at bedtime he decided on a small snack. When I expressed my disgust at his choice of tasty tidbits he informed me, "Mom, I'm a kid. I eat nasty snot." Curtailing this gross habit is going to be tougher than I thought...

Within the first 6 hours of Glory's parents' visit: Aulay: "Murron, why are YOU sitting on My Gwampa's wap?" Murron: "Aulay, they're MY Grandpa and Grandma too!" Ulie: (en route to look at Grandpa and Grandma's picture) "Let me see if you look like Grandpa and Grandma" (looks back and forth between photo and Grandparents) "Yup! It's you."

(regarding the role of cosmetology who work with morticians) Elizabeth: It seems that there’s more dead people than living people who want a makeover.

While driving through rural Lopez Island Aulay: “I’m mad now!” Mom: “Why?” Aulay: “Because the animals are pooping”

Ulie: "Superman...and Spiderman...and Larry Boy!"

Murron has said some hilarious stuff, lately. In talking about kids who aren't buckled in car seats, she quipped, "It's like riding in a cabbage." "What?" "You know, horses pull them." We laughed and said she meant carriage. Looking for a snack, she asked, "Can I have a graham crapper? *giggles* I mean, graham crammer *laughing* I can't say it! *pauses* Can I have a graham cramper?" :-D Explaining that matter is everywhere: "Even if you're in a room with nobody in it, you're touching something...even if you're outside, or jumping in the air, or naked jumping out of an airplane!"

Chain Reaction

2010-04-06T14:00:00.000-07:00

“You inspire me.”

The lady at Curves marched with renewed vigor on the recovery pad. I had mentioned that I had run part of the way from our house to the center. It’s really not that far but it’s impressive enough for someone who has never jogged before. It felt good to have my efforts recognized and it has helped me stay motivated to do it.

I owe much of my persistence to Bill, who has been running for seven months. A high school friend was the initial impetus to get him started. They had the shared joy of running a 10K together, an experience that refueled Bill’s passion for running. He runs an average of 5 miles at a time, but has run as many as 10 miles. He is aiming to run a half-marathon in June and wants to complete a marathon by the end of this year. It’s exciting to see his progress and to support him as he pushes himself farther and harder.

There have been times when he has felt discouraged, sometimes to the point of not wanting to do it. I’m sure it’s not easy to maintain the interest or desire it takes to press on. More than a few times he has even come into the house, sweaty and tired, shaking his head when I ask if he’s glad he did it. In that moment he’s just glad he got it out of the way.

Bill has been an encouragement for others we know, too, It has been wonderful to see others take their health more seriously, not to the point of obsession or imposing their regimen upon others, though. Inspiring people to better themselves in any discipline should be empowering and positive in motive.

Hebrews 10:23-25 states how we are to inspire each other on a spiritual level, for the glory of God:

23 Let us hold tightly without wavering to the hope we affirm, for God can be trusted to keep his promise. 24 Let us think of ways to motivate one another to acts of love and good works. 25 And let us not neglect our meeting together, as some people do, but encourage one another, especially now that the day of his return is drawing near.

Hearing someone tell me how I’ve inspired them has been very encouraging, especially for those times when I just don’t have the motivation to put on my shoes and get out there. Knowing that others are watching my example, such as my husband and kids, keeps me accountable and reminds me that I am not alone in my pursuits. Children are natural imitators so, whether good or bad, I set the tone for what they say and do. With this in mind I ought to be careful and not lose hope when I don’t see immediate results. Rather I must be even more fervent and diligent and rise to the challenge that is set before me. There most likely is someone who needs to see and be moved.

Glory

A Change In The Weather

2010-03-02T09:30:00.000-08:00

It smells like Spring, now. With slightly warmer days and longer evenings the air has a fresh sweetness that coaxes any Winter weary slumberer out from hibernation. Birds have returned to chatter melodically about the best nesting materials and fine earthy dining spots. And lawn mowers drone steadily in the afternoons.

In many ways last year seemed like an extended Winter. Personal struggles, health concerns, and tragic losses blew into our lives, the unexpected blizzards leaving us chilled and drifted over. Our faith has been tested in ways we never anticipated and our hope was frequently challenged. Yet the unfailing love of God kept us safe and sheltered throughout the long cold season.

I am certain that it was this subtle shift in the air that compelled me to drag out decades worth of accumulated clutter and begin sorting and tossing. As boxes were emptied and bins were refilled with photos and other keepsakes it became apparent that this ambitious project would not be easily or quickly accomplished. I couldn't hurry this through no matter how ruthless I tried to be just like the seeds can't rush their own germination and growth past layers of dirt and mulch. And this is inevitably messy work, the passage of time having resulted in dust and deterioration. Each box released a musty scent that wafted through the room. I even found a small stone pot of perfume crystals that I bought at the U of S. The deep amber fragrance continues to float through our room amidst the odor of yellowing papers and attic dust.

Spring is coming. Despite the months of sedentary existence the earth is still alive and well. As it wakes it perfumes the atmosphere surrounding us with sweet hope, heady delight, and lingering peace. And I inhale deeply with gratitude and relief that my Lord, again, has renewed my heart.

Glory

Don't be afraid

2010-02-22T14:54:00.000-08:00

The family and I were at the beach at Waldport, Oregon, this weekend. With the blue sky, relatively calm ocean waves and very little wind, we wondered if this really was the latter part of February or May. This is not winter in the Northwest to be sure.

Before we left for home on Sunday, we walked on the beach one last time. The kids ran and played and we drank in the sounds and smells of the beach before we had to head home. I had the kids close their eyes to listen to the waves. I told them to take a deep breath and smell the saltiness of the air. I asked them to remember these moments. When they are in their beds at night waiting for sleep to come, they could remember these times on the beach and retreat back to them.

The Oregon coast is one of our favorite places. We get the spectrum of emotion when visiting. We see the ocean at its angriest in early winter. In the summer, the ocean sometimes pitches a fit but it mostly behaves like a toddler frolicking, kicking around and having a good time. The ocean this weekend was a little flirtacious, teasing us but really meaning no harm.

But in a brief display of might, the teasing ocean yesterday wasn't anything one would want to mess with. It was with that background that I read a little from Mark 6: 48-51:

48He saw the disciples straining at the oars, because the wind was against them. About the fourth watch of the night he went out to them, walking on the lake. He was about to pass by them, 49but when they saw him walking on the lake, they thought he was a ghost. They cried out, 50because they all saw him and were terrified. "Immediately he spoke to them and said, 'Take courage! It is I. Don't be afraid.' 51Then he climbed into the boat with them, and the wind died down."

While reading, I asked Murron, our seven-year-old to imagine being on a boat in the waves, being afraid, and then seeing a ghost, and being more afraid, but then realizing it was Jesus, who said to not be afraid. Watching the waves, it wasn't hard imagining what I would do in that situation.

But when God says not to be afraid, He means it. If He made the winds and the seas, then there really shouldn't be anything to fear. It's a constant lesson. But to actually obey the Lord and not fear when things appear to be out of control would be a great thing. Until then, or at least while trying, I'm still begging the Lord to get in the boat with me. I don't want to be out in the storm alone.

Bill

Accept His Love, Respond With Love

2010-02-02T12:57:00.000-08:00

There was nothing fair about it, I can tell you that straight off! All of my 14 siblings had been married at least once already and not even once had I come close to wearing an engagement ring. Their advice to just stop looking and God would make it happen didn’t even work. Somehow I had become so very pleasing to date that any idea of a lifelong commitment was unnecessary. I made an excellent girlfriend but not a prospective wife.

So when I finally had my fill of relationships that were going nowhere I was already 30 years old. Having come from a family where practically everyone had married in their early twenties I might as well have been a retired schoolteacher enjoying my pension in a little cabin on Turtle Lake, Saskatchewan. I was also the mother of an extremely active and artistic girl. Mine wasn’t the only pregnancy out of wedlock in my family but mine was the only one that couldn't be smoothed over by a brief engagement and timely wedding ceremony. While the shame of it all no longer paralyzed my heart I had given up believing that any man - single, divorced, or widowed - would be anywhere near taken with the idea of becoming instant dad-in-a-box complete with directions and ready in five minutes.

It was May when I finally dragged my Bible and a box of Kleenex into my living room and began the ugly task of pouring it all out to God. I would have rather been sitting in a dentist’s chair getting a root canal on a back molar than sitting on that couch with all my emotions and nerves exposed like that. It was terrible and I winced at every truth that God spoke into my heart that day. I knew I wanted to serve Him without any reservation. I wanted my heart to belong to Him alone. I wanted to be His bride and live a life of purity and wholeness. I wanted to do all of that whether I was single or married, and I spoke plainly when I said I would accept either option. But I knew that opening my heart to the man God wanted me to marry would be harder later than it would be right then. I wanted to be sure that God and I understood each other on that account because I meant every word.

By then Elizabeth was in 2nd grade and ballet and I was in my third year of University studies, working at a daycare, and very actively involved in my church. I was a worship leader, pianist, vocalist, and soloist. My typical week consisted of Monday night music practice, Tuesday afternoon ballet and Young Adults evening worship and Bible study, Wednesday night Kid’s Club, Thursday evening ballet, and Sunday morning and evening services. My time was occupied enough that I couldn’t think about being single or hate being alone.

One day while I was at the University of Saskatchewan computer lab finding lyrics and chords for worship songs I found a Christian chat site where I could dialog with other worship leaders and musicians. Most of the time the conversation formed around issues such as music style or dress codes. Not once during this time did I think I would meet anyone who would consider me on a romantic level.

There was one man, however, who intrigued me above anyone else I chatted with. He was my age and he was a reporter at a newspaper in North Carolina. The first thing that interested me about him was his appreciation for the music of Keith Green, 2nd Chapter of Acts, and Phil Keaggy. As our first conversation progressed I was increasingly aware that I was developing a connection with this man that lived 2000 miles from me. This was so unexpected that I can remember feeling anxious about how anything like this could even be of God. We talked about exchanging e-mail addresses then I asked the question that had been burning a hole in my thoughts:

“Are you for real?”

And there was a moment of stillness on the monitor screen before his answer came back:

“Yes, I am for real.”

God, how can I know? How can I trust his word? How can I verify anything he’s told me about himself?

The questions came pouring out like all those painful emotions I had poured out to God only a month earlier. I wanted to be safe. I needed to be sure. I had to feel protected while this man entered the fortress of my mind and stood before the heavily guarded gates of my heart.

As we began e-mailing each other, and later talking on the phone I became very good at tossing out selective bits of information about my life. Not only did I avoid sharing any private or personal details but I also concealed my deeper thoughts and kept vigil over my feelings. We could flirt with our words, banter wittily, and even drop casual remarks about the possible what ifs. But I would remain distant and detached because I was not going to fall in love, this time. I had experienced my own great fall in love and all the king’s horses trampled me underfoot and all the king’s men had only left me bruised and broken. Now that I was put back together I would stay clear on the other side of the wall.

Two weeks after our first phone conversation I felt that I was done with my cautious waving at the window and decided that I was going to bid my farewell to Bill. I picked out a nice looking greeting card and carefully wrote that “I think God just wants us to be friends.” I hadn’t really asked Him if He did or not but it sounded like something He might have said. What I didn’t know is that God had been having frequent conversations with Bill and that he had been told something completely different than what I had written in my card.

I was finishing up an afternoon at work when a delivery man showed up with a bouquet of three roses for me from Bill. The room was quiet and all the kids disappeared into the faded white walls and crayon drawings. I studied the roses carefully and it wasn’t long before I read the message he had written on their slender stems, their green leaves, and their dewy petals.

Roses are the most treasured of flowers and I will treasure you. Life will have thorns that we must be careful of. Our love began as friendship so let the yellow rose be a reminder of this as we journey together. Our love is deeply passionate like this red rose so know that I will move heaven and earth to be with you and stay by your side. Above all let the white rose assure you that our love is pure as it was given to us by God and will continue to flow through us as we abide in Him.

I’m not sure how I carried that bouquet home with me. By the time I walked through the door and dropped my belongings on the couch where I had poured out my heart two months earlier, I fell to my knees and begged God to tell me what to do.

Accept.

Accept?

Accept his love.

Just accept his love?

Respond.

Respond how?

Respond with love.

It sounded so simple yet my mind could not understand nor could my heart believe what it had just heard. I stayed in that spot motionless for several minutes before I knew what that meant. I got up, found the card I had ready to send, carefully salvaged the stamp from the envelope, and destroyed the rest.

Accept and respond became my mantra during the seven months of our courtship and taught me more about marriage than anything else in my life. Perhaps that had been my problem all along but even that didn’t matter anymore. I had fallen in love and I had landed in a safe place. When we eloped February 4, 2002 I knew that and I was happy to give my heart over to this man who had made me his wife.

Our New Year Greeting and Newsletter

2010-01-11T15:20:00.000-08:00

It's finally finished and ready to print! Well, ready for YOU to print, that is. :-) Just click on the photos and copy/paste into a Word document, adjust the size and, you've got our 2010 New Year's Greeting. Enjoy!

Our Photo Greeting

Our Newsletter

Nina's Mission Adventures!

2009-11-21T09:32:00.000-08:00

Since we began attending our current church we have been thrilled and pleased to observe Nina's development and growth as a minister in our childrens Christian education to becoming a vibrant young woman of God in missions.

She has a newly updated blog that is a delight to read as well as listen to, as she's cleverly uploaded a music player. For the record, her blog is not all taupe and boring whereas ours? Well, let's not go there, now.

Check it out and tell her we sent you, 'kay?

Blessings!

Grace: An Indispensible House Seasoning

2009-11-19T10:51:00.000-08:00

I like the term creative juices. It sounds like a pitch for some whirled and blended concoction on a late night infomercial. But what I am writing about, however tempting a smooth citrusy beverage sounds, is the kind of energy that inspires and impels us all to imagine, dream, and aspire to do the original. For me it’s mainly lyrics and music but cooking also provides an enticing outlet. For other members of my family it’s many other things along with poetry, drama, art, and dance. Whatever the bent it transforms our home into a supermarket of ideas and interests that flows nearly unhindered all throughout the day. It’s a little disappointing, then, when the finished product receives severe criticism.

For instance, yesterday the thought of a hot bowl of barley soup recalled pleasant childhood memories of winter suppers on the farm. Tender pearls of barley floating through a rich broth mingling with vegetables and small bites of meat was sure to warm any shivering hungry soul. I set to work preparing the barley then worked on a broth of pork cooking in water. When the pork was cooked I strained the broth and set it to simmer lively while adding carrots, celery, onions, and diced and lightly sautéed Delicata squash. Once the vegetables were nearly cooked I added parsley, thyme, garlic and a little house seasoning. I wasn’t altogether content with the taste or aroma, at that point, and felt it needed something extra special. So, after sneaking in a tablespoon of balsamic vinegar, I decided to abandon caution and added a splash of cream sherry hoping to transform the soup from interesting to intoxicating. The scent was delightfully heady and I knew I’d done something ingenious. The cooked barley completed the portrait and all that was needed to play off the soup was a batch of cornbread studded with green onions. I was anxious for the response.

It was not at all what I’d hoped for. Of course Bill and Elizabeth enjoyed it greatly but the younger set just didn’t respond favorably. They are, after all, my harshest critics of whatever I set on the table. Unless, of course, I’ve made pasta or something else that is familiar and favored. I’d even tentatively served them very small portions in hopes that they would be braver knowing they only had a few bites. Murron ate her first miniscule serving with apparent gusto but wouldn’t hear of having any more than that. Ulie tried a few bites but faltered quickly after that while Aulay protested any attempts on our part to coax him into trying the smallest bit of pork. All were interested in cornbread, though, until they discovered the green onions. Dinner was over and, by bedtime when Aulay was insisting that he was hungry but would not eat the soup, Bill finally let him have a bowl of cereal.

This was not the outcome I had been envisioning. It’s enough to discourage even the most optimistic of at-home chefs. At times, in fact, I feel like the Beast in Disney’s movie when he hollers at Belle, “Then go ahead and STARVE!” Yet, however soured my creative juices may be, there is always another meal to be made, another opportunity to introduce my family to my own childhood favorites, and another challenge to season my cooking with a little more grace. And, perhaps, be more mindful of how my own criticism needs to be served more gently and carefully.

Oh, and the house seasoning recipe I use is this: 1 cup kosher salt, ¼ cup black pepper, and ¼ cup garlic powder. Store in airtight container for up to 6 months. From Paula Deen. Enjoy!

Glory

Bittersweet Discipline

2009-11-12T11:22:00.000-08:00

By Hand

2009-09-07T22:04:00.000-07:00

Today begins another new chapter in our lives. While we are pleased with our decision I'm very sure there are some who would think our choice to be strange, silly, or even simplistic.

We moved the dishwasher out.

No, Elizabeth is still living with us. The actual load up, drag to the sink, hook up and run dishwasher. This means that we're doing dishes manually, again.

Part of our reason for this lies in the environmental impact dishwashers have and part of it is to make more room in our kitchen and maximize our use of space. But there may be another part that will produce more long-term benefits than even those previously mentioned: doing things by hand.

There was a time, several years ago, before email, chat, and facebook when I would write letters and send them off by mail. You know, putting pen to paper, envelopes and stamps. That kind of writing. Well, I've woefully gotten out of that habit and I know there's something I've come to miss. Bill says that the written word takes thought and time to convey meaning. The one who writes is obligated to put thought and time into sending the intended message. The reader also should take time and put thought into finding meaning in the words. This makes it profoundly relational.

The same differences can be seen in recipes made from scratch, handmade clothing, original artwork, and personally crafted gifts. Come to think of it, I don't recall ever seeing anything handmade in a second-hand shop or thrift store. It's possible that some people may in fact give away or toss out things that were made specially for them or their children. Seeing the blankets, hooded towels, and handmade clothes that our kids have been given as gifts I can say with certainty that would not be me. I understand the time and thought that went into each stitch, tuck, and hem.

So it will be with our dishes, again. Carefully washing the plates, cups, pots, and pans will require time, a little thought, and some getting used to, again. If I'm fortunate to have a dish washing partner then it will go quickly and perhaps even pleasantly. But part of me is looking forward to the lessons I am sure to learn, with my hands in warm soapy water.

Who knows? You may even get a letter from me, by hand, smelling faintly of Dawn Citrus.

Glory

When the wife's away...

2009-06-14T22:31:00.001-07:00

...the hubby will work!

Yes, it's been a fast several days while my wife and youngest daughter departed for the Great White North to attend a nephew's wedding. We wished all of us could go, but we couldn't afford it. We're making plans for all of us to fly up to Canada for Christmas in 2010. That will be great.

It's been challenging to keep things going here at the home without Glory AND working my job AND making sure our oldest gets things done that she wants, too. But the biggest thing here has been ensuring that our plantation of a home is kept up.

We have a quarter-acre lot. We have one apple tree, six plum trees, a hazelnut tree, cedar hedges, lots of grass, flowers and such. It's a real English garden here that grows and grows and grows. On top of tending all that, I've painted, weeded, mowed the lawn, cleaned the house, washed the dishes, cooked food for the kids, tore up the dining room floor and made sure the kids have been cared for. My eldest has been very helpful in making sure clothes are put away, the boys are taken care of and her mom's new plants survive curious but destructive mauling hands.

It hasn't been all work and no play. We've taken a couple of ferry rides on Puget Sound, gone to church and tried to have fun, too.

All of this has made the time go by faster. In two sleeps, my traveling ladies will return home and things can get back to normal around here.

I don't know if that is so appealing to Glory.

Bill

Silliness at the school

2009-05-28T23:39:00.000-07:00

Tonight was a red letter day. Our youngest daughter graduated from kindergarten and our oldest passed to 10th grade. Their school had an open house tonight, complete with the standard programming: kids graduating, demonstrations from music students, a few karate students kickin' and punchin' each other in demonstrations for all the parents who have been wondering what their kids have been doing at that school, anyway.

Now we know, and Glory and I are very proud.

Our younger ones even were attentive at tonight's festivities. They sat on our laps and stared in admiration at their sisters as they were recognized for their achievements.

But they really got into those karate kids. Our three-year-old was making the motions as he watched the students perform. I don't think he really took it all that seriously, though.

"Do you like that?" I asked him.

"Yeah," he said, while watching, transfixed. "They're silly."

Even our young graduate commented similarly:

"What are those silly things they're wearing, Daddy?" she asked me.

But, our three-year-old wasn't going to let his sister get away with her own form of comic relief. As he started at her mortar board, I asked him what he thought of her "hat."

After a long pause, he replied: "She looks like Peter Pan."

With that, she flew up in the air and did battle with the karate students and vanquished them all, as her little brothers watched in awe.

They can't wait until they get to go to school, too.

Bill

Getting ready for the mountains!

2009-05-16T22:16:00.000-07:00

In a week we'll be on the road to the other side of our fair state to visit friends and to go camping! We're pretty excited. We managed to reserve a spot at a state park campground that has awesome privacy.

Going there fulfills the desires of nearly all the family: Our oldest gets to ride a horse. Our second-oldest gets to go fishing. Our third child gets to go see the mountains. Our youngest just gets to have some fun. Glory has been a tough one to convince that she has desires on this too, but she only needed to think but a few seconds and realize her inner micro-manager will be quite satisfied as she puts together the camping list and orders everyone about. I get to get out in the outdoors and have some fun with the family.

We bought a new family tent that is the size of a small hotel. The girls broke it in the other night in the back yard. This portable cabin will be great for us as we attempt to rough it in the great outdoors. We also bought a screened-in canopy, to keep the bugs away when we eat or visit. Just these two things alone, plus fishing licenses and other things, cost a small fortune, but we will have them for many years to come, and they will pay for themselves. As a cost comparison, we've already paid for a two-night stay at a nice hotel. Only now we have open-ended accomodations.

Next on the shopping list: bug repellent, camp food, another fishing pole or two and perhaps a lantern and tabletop grill. I would be satisfied with what we already have in the lighting and cooking department, but if I ever expect Glory to agree to go camping again, I have to mortgage the house and buy all this new, cr--, er stuff to make us all happy while we commune with nature.

Note to self (as Glory glares from across the room): don't forget the shower tent.

Bill

Big Buckths!

2009-05-04T22:06:00.000-07:00

Losing teeth is a BIG deal at our house. So much so that we don't bother with the tooth fairy, quarters for bicuspids or 50 cents for molars. In our case, we give the kids Eisenhower dollars for their pulled baby teeth. Our six-year-old calls them, "Big Bucks."

They are big. Too bad we don't have huge coins in circulation anymore. I remember as a kid wanting to get the giant coins in change. That was until 1979 when the quarter-sized Susan B. Anthony dollars replaced the Eisenhowers. It was unfair.

Over the past year we have gone to the local coin dealer and have exchanged current currency for the older dollar coins and have put them in the safe so we can give them to the kids as gifts on special occasions. When Murron started losing her teeth last year, I told her she'd get big bucks for them.

Now Murron must think she's on to something for today she lost teeth number three and four: her two front teeth, both at the same time.

Murron and her little brother can be quite daring during playtime. They try to best each other in performing stunts. Their ideas of play sometimes end up being a parent's craziest nightmare.

We don't know if Ulie was leading Murron around like a dog, or how the pink cloth tie ended up in her mouth. All we know is that Murron gasped sharply several times before Glory heard her exclaim, "Ulie!" At point, she was on the verge of tears when Glory found her packing a wad of toilet paper in her mouth. Then she gave a muffled indication of what had happened.

"My teef!" she said.

Glory asked Murron where they were. Murron didn't know but pointed to where the mystery incident took place, and there were her teeth, on the floor. Through this whole time, Ulie kept hugging his now toothless sister and kept telling her how sorry he was.

It's not like this was a complete surprise. Murron had been working on the teeth for at least a week. They were getting quite loose.

After the shock wore off, Murron explained that Ulie had yanked on the tie, thus dislodging her teeth from her head.

Within 15 minutes, Murron told Glory that she now would get her big bucks for the teeth, which she repeated when I got home from work.

I immediately went to the safe and produced two coins. Murron excitedly grabbed them, studied them for a bit and then put them in her ceramic chicken, where she had two other big dollars.

She then showed me her new trick: letting her tongue poke through the toothless gap. It was pretty cute.

Bill

Don't challenge the man of the house

2009-04-22T08:56:00.000-07:00

My manhood was put to the test last night.

I defended my home from intruders.

And they're lucky they didn't get hewn in pieces.

We were watching "Phantom of the Opera" last night when we heard something coming from the shed adjacent to our home. I just ignored it at first, but then it got louder, like someone rumaging through our home. Springing to action, I retrieved the only weapon nearby that would likely dispatch someone quickly, but also scare the living crap out of them, too: our broad sword. Our daughter watched with wide eyes (in admiration for her protective dad, I'm sure) as I unsheathed the sword and went outside to the shed at its outside gate that I found open. I asked Glory to go to the other side from our garage so that she could turn on the light in the shed and scare whatever was there. Ready for a fight, I charged in.

There wasn't anything there.

Lucky for him.

Later, we heard it again. This time, I grabbed flashlight and my menacing BB gun pistol and went on the roof. Nothing there. Then we went back to the shed and looked in the rafters. Still nothing.

On the other side of our lawn or in one of our trees, the culprit (or culprits) was watching and chuckling. The oppossum that Elizabeth saw outside our sliding glass door a few minutes before this whole ordeal started likely was frightened by the mere sight of the weapon that would have slashed him like a knife to butter. And that cat that toyed with me probably skittered to the nearest neighbor, relieved that I didn't cap it in its little kneecaps.

Yeah. They'd better be scared.

But while these intruders were trying to get their heart rates down, Glory laughed at me. "The first time we have to deal with an intruder, and you unsheathed your sword for...an oppossum!"

Glory also chided me, saying that in time of war, I wouldn't have just gone to protect my family. I would have asked her where her gun was, too. Hey, I said, two guns are better than one.

Yeah, keep laughing, wife. That oppossum will never come back now. And neither will that cat. I can smell fear, and it ain't me.

I am the man of the house! I am resourceful! I protect my own, I thought as I, with trembling hands, put back our weapons in their rightful places. But they weren't shaking nearly as much as those menacing little creatures. They were just scared to death, I'm sure.

They'd better be!

Bill

Same Space, Different Look

2009-04-06T21:14:00.000-07:00

There's not that much different about our house. Just looks a little different.

When we bought our house almost two years ago we thought it was HUGE. But as the kids have gotten older, we are learning very quickly how that just is not so.

Our little boys have been sharing a room for more than a year now. As the littlest one gets closer to two, he has been the one who has kept his brother awake and gotten him to wake up at an ungodly hour of the morning, forcing him to tattle to his sleepy and, eventually, grumpy mom and dad that his little bro is doing something wrong...about five times every morning before we all have to get up before washcloths are flushed down the toilet, curtains are ripped apart or entire contents of cereal boxes are emptied out on the kitchen table and onto the floor.

Something had to be done.

We always wanted an office, but now that dream is no more. Our office now is in our sanctuary, our marriage chamber; something that we never wanted. But sanity at this point is more important than precious space, so little Aulay now has his own room, allowing his brother to finally get some decent sleep.

I will say it has been a little sad while it has brought relief. Aulay seems too little to have a room all to himself. He's only two, but already he seems to have grown up in his small way. Soon, though, we will make it into a place that he can relax in, with pictures of dogs, horses or trains. He will grow to like it. At least we hope so.

But if he gets lonely, anyone will gladly open their rooms to him to give him comfort and company, including us.

But we sure hope he gives us a few days. We need the rest.

Bill

Family friendly venting

2009-03-17T23:11:00.000-07:00

We do try to teach our kids that certain words and phrases are unacceptable.

For instance, we do not stand for "OMG" or the long version in our home. Saying such a phrase will earn the offender a quick stern glance from Glory or me.

We also shy away from "stupid." No one is stupid, nor are they being stupid. It's just a stupid word and saying such a word will earn the offender a quick stern glance and a chastening from Glory or me. But if Glory or I utter the forbidden word, we'll feel bad, recognize our hypocrisy and apologize to the children, who sent us quick stern glances.

There are a few others, but the felonious phrase at the top of our "DON'T!" list is "Shut Up!"

It should be uttered rarely but pointedly. If "Shut Up" is uttered, there are to be quick and decisive changes in the recipient's tone, attitude or what have you.

But the world stops at "Shut Up" in our home.

A few days ago while we were in the van going somewhere, our three-year-old was trying to say something but his little 22-month-old brother was interrupting him. Finally, Ulie had enough.

"Shut up, Aulay!" Ulie yelled.

The air got sucked quickly out of the van. Everyone gasped. Glory told Ulie that he was not to say such things and tell his brother he was sorry. Ulie was repentant and quickly apologized. Aulay, however, kept pestering him. Still annoyed, Ulie was getting frustrated, but not one to repeat his mistakes, looked for another way to make his point.

"Slow down, Aulay!" he said. Aulay just looked confused and kept pestering away.

And Ulie just grumbled.

That was OK.

Bill

Terry Bowen Life Lessons

2009-03-07T18:37:00.000-08:00

It was a year ago this month that my boss, Terry, was diagnosed with chronic leukemia. I had hoped then that we wouldn't have to face what we are facing today.

My friend Terry died this afternoon after his valiant fight with cancer. So, his desk that is next to mine will remain empty. I won't be able to tag along with him in our public CPR classes anymore. We won't be enjoying a trip to the local real Mexican food place at the 76 Station anymore.

But, as I write, with his death very fresh on my mind, I am comforted to know that Terry made it home from the hospital two days ago and was surrounded by family and friends when he passed. That was what he wanted.

But moreso I am comforted that he had faith in the Lord Jesus. I will see him again. I have no doubt of that. And, as I write, he is with the Lord, a FAR cry better from this place we call home. That is our hope -- eternal life, of which we have surety, but only in Jesus.

Naturally, I have been thinking of death over the past couple of month, since Terry started his final fight as the leukemia advanced. While we can't stop what ultimately will happen to each and every one of us, there are things that we can do to make this place a better one:

1. Love the Lord with all your heart, soul and mind and strength.
2. Love your neighbor as yourself.

These two sum up about what our actions should be based.

Yet, here are some others that I have thought make practical sense.

3. Tell your family and friends that you love them, and mean it and show it.
4. Keep your accounts short with people.
5. Make a will and keep it current. And tell your family where it is.
6. Write notes to your kids, even if they are too young to read. They will have them for later.
7. Take lots of pictures. When you're gone, your loved ones will thank you.
8. Travel a lot together and make memories.
9. Take care of yourself.
10. Pay your debts. Don't leave them for your family to pay.

Bill

Five Dollars!

2009-03-01T21:57:00.000-08:00

Our oldest boy is just starting to figure things out: his name, his age, how he's doing, and how to answer these important questions.

Over the past couple of months when we've asked him how he's doing, he responds, "I'm Uilleam!"

"Yes, we know you're Uilleam, but how are you doing?"

Pause.

"I'm Uilleam!" he repeats.

He replies the same when we ask him his age.

"I'm UILLEAM!" he insists.

We've had to talk a lot about money lately, what with the state of the economy, tax returns and so forth. Perhaps overhearing our conversations have caused him to answer in his new way.

"So, how's my boy?" we will ask him.

"Five dollars," he says.

"No, Ulie, how are you doing?"

"Five dollars!" he says.

Then we'll ask him his name.

"FIVE DOLLARS!"

There was a kid in the Peanuts comic strips whose name was "Five." Perhaps we ought to change Uilleam's name to "$5" since he's going to be faced with issues related to money all his life.

That's probably not a good idea seeing that he now is learning his ABCs, and I'm sure by next week his name will be "Letters."

Bill

Tired!

2009-02-26T23:48:00.001-08:00

What is going on here?
After several days of extreme busyness, my family finally had enough.
They all went to sleep!
It's been a tough couple of days for us, with church, friends hanging out at our house, books to look over, problems to solve, this has turned out as one of the craziest weeks on record.
Tonight, I took Glory to church for a women's study she led. Then I took the kids grocery shopping. An hour and a half later we picked up Glory and headed home. Within ten minutes, our oldest boy, crawled into bed and was out! Never have I seen this kid go to sleep that fast. Then, his siblings followed suit. No getting up countless times to go to the bathroom or ask for water. They are done for the day. Then, Glory decided she had had enough and went to bed. Now, this NEVER happens. She usually makes it her policy not to go to bed without me. This time it was different. She's out for the count, too.
So, here I am getting ready to call it quits, too. I'm done.

Bill

Renewed acquaintance

2009-02-17T21:43:00.000-08:00

More than 20 years I ago I played the trombone. I was pretty good. I played from the sixth grade through high school and then played a little in college. I even played a little in the military. But then in '94 I stopped playing. I just got too busy with college again, and then a career, and didn't think about taking music too seriously.

I wish I had.

There have been times over the years that I tried to sell my trombone, thinking that my playing days were gone. But I could only get $15 offers for it. It's just a student trombone that probably was older than me when I got it. It was dented and ugly. But $15 seemed too cheap a price to sell out years of playing and performing. It's still dented and ugly. But now I am glad I never did sell it.

Around Christmas time I brought out the horn and started playing again after I went to an opera in which our daughter performed. I had talked to one of the pit trombonists and told him I used to play. He asked me why I didn't play anymore. I didn't have a good answer. Just life and time getting away from me, I guess.

It was fun playing Christmas carols, albeit choppy and rusty, as I remembered the slide positions and notes. Although dented and ugly, this little horn still has a lot of music left in it.

Last month as our church was planning a valentine's dinner, Glory got the idea that we could play a piece together; she on the piano and I on the trombone. We practiced a little and then on Saturday we played an old hymn, "O Perfect Love," which Glory scored. That in and of itself was an accomplishment for Glory because she doesn't read music. Our performance came as a complete surprise to those in attendance. It was a beautiful time, and I was happy to be able to make sweet music together with my lovely bride.

Now I am wanting to play all the time, and I am a little surprised how quickly it's all coming back to me. Over the years I have tried to learn the piano and the guitar, but never have had the patience or dexterity to get very far. But, hidden away in a closet, storage or even under my bed, was my horn, being dragged along like an old high school scrapbook just waiting to be reopened and memories relived.

Glory thinks I should buy a new trombone and really get serious. I looked at a couple at a local music store today. Perhaps I will.

Bill

Reminders Are Good, Sometimes

2009-02-11T14:51:00.000-08:00

I am loved (John 3:16)
I am God's child (John 1:12)
I am God's temple (1 Cor 3:16)
I have been justified (Rom 5:1)
I am Christ's friend (John 15:15)
I am God's co-worker (1 Cor 3:9)
I am complete in Christ (Col 2:10)
I am God's workmanship (Eph 2:10)
I am united with the Lord (1 Cor 6:17)
I am hidden with Christ in God (Col 3:3)
I am bought with a price (1 Cor 6:19-20)
I am a saint (set apart for God) (Eph 1:1)
I am a personal witness of Christ (Acts 1:8)
I have been adopted as God's child (Eph 1:5)
I have been redeemed and forgiven (Col 1:14)
I am the salt and light of the earth (Matt 5:13-14)
I am a member of the body of Christ (1 Cor 12:27)
I am free forever from condemnation (Rom 8:1-2)
I am free from any charge against me (Rom 8:31-34)
I am a citizen of Heaven. I am significant (Phil 3:20)
I have access to God through the Holy Spirit (Eph 2:18)
I am a minister of reconciliation for God (2 Cor 5:17-21)
I am seated with Christ in the heavenly realms (Eph 2:6)
I am established, anointed, sealed by God (2 Cor 1:21-22)
I cannot be separated from the love of God (Rom 8:35-39)
I am assured all things work together for good (Rom 8:28)
I have a future and a hope. He has plans for me. (Jer 29:11)
I have been chosen and appointed to bear fruit (John 15:16)
I may approach God with freedom and confidence (Eph 3:12)
I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me (Phil 4:13)
I am the branch of the true vine, a channel of His life (John 15:1-5)
I am confident the good works God has begun in me will be perfected (Phil 1:5)

I belong to God.

The Good Samaritan Mafia

2009-01-31T12:51:00.000-08:00

All we wanted was to do the right thing.

A couple of weeks ago we left our church parking lot after service. Another driver pulled out ahead of us from the community college parking lot across the street. It was dark, so I couldn't see the top of the car all that well, but it looked like there was something on the roof. When we both stopped at a stop sign a block away, Glory and I saw that there was a laptop case on top of the car.

I flashed my brights at the guy in an attempt to get him to stop so we could inform him that his vaulables were in danger. He sped off. At the next stop sign, I flashed my lights again and hocked my horn. He sped off again, this time going faster. He didn't want to stop for us. This went on for several blocks, with the driver going faster and faster, careening around corners, ignoring my honks and flashes, before he finally pulled into an apartment complex. He didn't park. He was looking to shake us off -- us, the crazy couple and five kids (our oldest's friend was with us, too) trying to corner him, shoot him, carjack his car, steal his textbooks, something!

We pulled up beside him. He was on the phone -- to 911, no doubt expecting his hurried and panicked words to the dispatcher would be the last he uttered before departing this earth.

Glory pulled down the window: "You left your laptop on your roof!" she told the shaking driver.

"W-w-what?!" he said, rolling his window down.

"We're not trying to stalk you," Glory said calmly while smiling. "You left your laptop on your roof."

He reached up and felt the bag. "Ohhh! Thank you!"

With that, we waved, pulled around the parking area and left, catching another wave from the relieved driver as we drove past.

We laughed as we headed for home, but I didn't know whether to be glad for the guy in that we saved his computer, or be mad at him for thinking the worst of people.

I guess that's what we get for being a part of the Good Samaritan Mafia.

Bill

Too much soda and really BIG bunnies

2009-01-28T22:47:00.000-08:00

I brought along my five-year-old daughter for a meeting I had to attend in Seattle today. She had a good time being with her dad but she eventually got bored. There are only so many pages in a coloring book and only so many ways a little girl can draw a pony or a dinosaur before losing interest. Fortunately the meeting ended soon enough and down the highway we went to see my boss, who is in the hospital with leukemia.

My boss smiled when we walked in the room, and my little girl wasn't disturbed by seeing this sick but very brave man lying in the hospital bed. After the visit, we were walking to our van in the hospital parking garage when my girl asked a pointed question:

"Daddy, how did he get sick?"

"I don't know," I said, after searching for something to say. "I just don't know."

There was a pause before she spoke again, trying to attach some blame to his condition.

"Maybe he drank too much soda."

I couldn't help but laugh and laugh. If only it were that simple. Yeah, I guess there's evidence out there that soda will kill you if consumed in extremely large quantities, but... it made sense to her.

I'm not surprised by a child's perception of things. They attach meaning to things based on what they know. Perhaps she heard that sodas cause cancer in lab animals. I don't know.

Another statement of the obvious made me smile again a little while later.

We have a pet rabbit. My daughter went with me last month to a feed store to get a bale of straw for the rabbit's cage. So my daughter equates hay with rabbits. Makes sense.

On the way home, after I treated her to an ice cream cone, we were behind a large semi hauling hay, enough for a herd of cattle.

"Wow! Look at that!" she exclaimed.

After a pause she said, "I bet he has a pet rabbit, too!"

And why not?

Bill

Being Thankful

2009-01-27T15:22:00.000-08:00

The month after Christmas typically is a rough month for us, as I am sure it is for many people. The cash you had was swallowed up by not just presents but buying food for parties or other gatherings, helping out others, etc. So from then on and until the next pay day, it's real lean.

So I'm thankful for God's provisions for us and seeing us through. We finally got my monthly paycheck on Friday and I couldn't help but to be extremely grateful. We were down to very little. Glory was running out of options with what little we had. And for my wife, who is a brilliant cook who can make meals for us out of nothing, to say that she's running out of ideas, it must have been getting bad.

But obviously not as bad as others. There's always someone worse off.

Today I heard about a couple in L.A. who killed themselves and their children because they lost their jobs. In fact, I continue to hear about such stories with more frequency. How sad that is that one's self worth is based so much on one's job.

I have been on the other end of a layoff before, actually a couple of times. While that is not fun, and it is scary, I can say with all certainty that never once did I believe that life was over and not worth living. I know that God provides and that He would see us through.

Jesus said in Luke 12:15: "Watch out! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; a man's life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions." While He was speaking of greed, of course, the principal is the same. Paul wrote in Phillipians 4:12: "I know how to get along with humble means, and I also know how to live in prosperity; in any and every circumstance I have learned the secret of being filled and going hungry, both of having abundance and suffering need."

What is that secret? It's knowing Christ and knowing that He gives us strength to get through the trials of life. But all this help isn't just to make life easier for us. It's so that God gets the glory.

So, remember who puts food on the table. And may you remember, when times really get tough, that God sees even that. He'll sustain you even in the darkest of times.

Just ask Paul.

Bill

There's money to be found if only you look down.

2009-01-23T15:50:00.000-08:00

Times are tough, I will admit. People are losing their jobs. They can't keep up with their house payments. The bills are piling up. It's a bad scene out there for many right now.

It's been a little tight for us, too, but thankfully we are doing OK. I remain convinced that we will be all right, mainly because God takes care of His kids. And we are His kids.

But there are things we need to do on our end, too: work hard, save, and help those worse off than we.

There may come a time when the whole family will have to find work to make the household function. I dread the idea of my kids having to get a paper route or something and then have to fork over their hard-earned dollars to have to keep meat on the table. That is my job. But if that is what needs to happen, then fine. Such sacrifices will knit our family together even more tightly. My grandparents had to endure hardships and they prevailed. Should our economy get worse and a depression befall our generation, may we show the same fortitude to withstand it and come out better on the other side.

But for all this spectre of depression, rice and bean dinners and barely scraping by, I am encouraged with the knowledge that there is money to be had, and it's under all our noses. As I tell my youngest daughter: "There's money to be found, if only you look down."

It's true.

Next time you're out walking downtown or even along your street, look down. Guaranteed, after a while you will find at least a penny. Perhaps you'll get lucky and find something more. Yesterday when I was on my scooter at a stop light, I spied a quarter and a penny on the side of the road. I pulled over and picked them up. Earlier in the day I found a penny. Today I found a penny in a parking lot. Go through the drive-thru and you will find at least 10 cents in the lane by the window. At the grocery store you will find a nickel by the pay phone. Money is to be found everywhere! I average a penny a day, at least. That's $3.65 a year.

You may scoff, "Big deal." It is a big deal. $3.65 will buy at least a jug of milk or a gallon of gas when you need it the most.

There was a time when people would get real excited at finding money on the street. It doesn't seem so these days. In fact, people throw their money away, even in these tough times. I think that's silly. I am sure there's millions out there to be found because people either are just careless or don't think a penny, nickel, dime or quarter amounts to much. Find them and we're talking dollars!

When it's getting late into the month and there are a few days until payday and you've run out of cash, and you've also run out of milk or diapers, and you see your kids' faces and you want their little smiles to remain smiles, AND you know that if you don't do something, life could be bad, you remember that you've been tossing found money into a jar. You then can thank God and rest easy in knowing that everything is going to be OK.

Bill

Unafraid

2009-01-21T08:53:00.000-08:00

We watched yesterday's inauguration of President Barack Obama. We sang when Aretha Franklin sang, we prayed when Pastor Rick Warren prayed, and we prayed more when the oath of office was administered. After all things ceremonial were done we went about our day unmoved and unchanged. Just resolved as always to do what we know God has set before us to do.

Bill went to view President Obama's agenda. While we have our personal concerns over certain aspects of his policies, nothing gave us cause for significant alarm. It is not because of what President Barack Obama and his administration may or may not do but because of Who God is and forever will be.

Deuteronomy 31:6
Be strong and of good courage, do not fear nor be afraid of them; for the LORD your God, He is the One who goes with you. He will not leave you nor forsake you.

1 Chronicles 28:20
David also said to Solomon his son, "Be strong and courageous, and do the work. Do not be afraid or discouraged, for the LORD God, my God, is with you. He will not fail you or forsake you until all the work for the service of the temple of the LORD is finished.

Psalm 27:1
The LORD is my light and my salvation; Whom shall I fear? The LORD is the strength of my life; Of whom shall I be afraid?

Psalm 56:3-4
When I am afraid, I will trust in you. In God, whose word I praise, in God I trust; I will not be afraid. What can mortal man do to me?

Isaiah 41:10
So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

Isaiah 41:13
For I am the LORD, your God, who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, Do not fear; I will help you.

1 Corinthians 16:13
Be on your guard; stand firm in the faith; be men of courage; be strong.

2 Timothy 1:7
For God has not given us a spirit of fear and timidity, but of power, love, and self-discipline.

Hebrews 13:5-6
For He Himself has said, "I will never leave you nor forsake you." So we may boldly say: "The LORD is my helper; I will not fear. What can man do to me?"

Glory

The Skin Game

2009-01-13T09:32:00.000-08:00

A Skin Game, according to an online definition, is a dirty game that is characterized by ruthlessness.

Alfred Hitchcock movies have been an entertainment staple since before Bill and I married. We consummated our love for this outstanding director, producer, and occasional cameo actor over Vertigo, with James Stewart and Kim Novak to lead the way. From that day forward we have indulged our penchant for suspense, intrigue, and mystery via stories such as Rear Window, To Catch a Thief, and many others.

As we selected The Skin Game, then, we expected something far different that what we were dished up. Much like anticipating the taste of a well crafted wine but experiencing something very peculiar, The Skin Game unfolded with quaint scenery of English countrysides and accompanying orchestration. Bill and I snuggled under a woven blanket and I rested my head on his shoulder. As the movie continued I found myself tense and disconcerted and Bill was sitting up straighter, too. By the movie's end, we were both quiet, very still, and solemn.

Something about all of the characters made it impossible to despise any of them, outright, but there wasn't a single one who showed ample virtue to stand out enough above any others. All were selfish, proud, and deceitful, hurting whomever they needed to get what they wanted. In the end there were no winners, none with any redeeming changes. All was lost.

Clearly, we saw the law of sowing and reaping, albeit played out dramatically. But it left both of us to, firstly, decide to take a break from Hitchcock's theatrical fare, then to discuss who at the end was closer to salvation. It causes me to consider as well, how do any of us get close enough to see the light of Truth, the hear the voice of Love, to feel the hand of Grace. Without God's Holy Spirit to bring us to His mercy there is no hope of forgiveness and we are all trapped in our own Skin Game.

Glory

My Very Crummy No Good Bad Day

2009-01-06T14:31:00.000-08:00

Bill tapped the power button off on our CD alarm as we tried to steal a few more minutes of sleep. It wasn’t to be as Ulie unlatched the barn door (it’s really very much a barn door) that leads into our room and said, “I want out…Daddy, I’m doo-doo. Daddy, I’m doo-doo, Daddy…”

“Okay, Ulie, I’ll change your diaper.” Bill sleepily replied.

I always feel just a moderate quantity of guilt when Bill has to get up before I do and cares for the boys as I lay in bed earnestly trying to get up but not moving a muscle. He’s the money-maker so I should be busily preparing breakfast long in advance of him getting into the shower. I don’t and he’s patient and forgiving enough to never let me know if this bothers him.

So, this morning I decided to handle the boys, both of whom needed diaper changes in the most urgent and desperate way. I retrieved Aulay’s diaper and Ulie’s underpants and noticed that the bucket of wipes was perilously light…I’ll have to make more, later. So, somehow, I managed to clean both bottoms with three wipes between them, not much different than cleaning an oil barge spill with a few cotton balls, actually.

“Honey, don’t forget to call the city to have them pick up our trash,” Bill reminded me, before the “See ya, Honey *kiss* I love you,” ritual.

Our trash bin was beyond overflowing and we’ve had to pile nearly two weeks worth of garbage sacks on top and beside it on the street. I always feel like it’s going to get knocked over or torn apart by birds, cats, or opossums so it makes me nervous seeing it outside for very long.

It was a dire situation, then, when Bill left our driveway and I couldn’t locate our cordless phone. We have a phone on our printer/fax machine, but it ties me down and I hate not being able to continue a phone call while stopping Aulay from splashing his hand in the toilet or grabbing Ulie away from the glass pitcher that cracked when our refrigerator froze the water into ice. I pushed the “find hs (find handset)” button which beeped once, like normal, but bleeped after a short delay, not normal. I enlisted the girls to help me find it but to no avail. I called Bill to ask if he’d help me find it by calling us repeatedly. After about 5 repeated tries of having the wall set ring, not hearing the handset at all, the girls and I scrambling from room to room trying to hear it, and Aulay holding his hands over his ears and yelling, “I go- i !” (toddlerese for I GOT IT), I finally found the handset with the toys in the family room with an obviously dead battery. So I would have to make the call from the office after all that.

Somehow the kids were fed breakfast and released from the table and high chair to play in the family room. At least that’s where I expected them to be, where all their new toys from Christmas beckoned like neon Vegas lights. My wishful thinking was abruptly halted when I saw an Alfred Hitchcock DVD in his little hand. The TV combo was moved into our bedroom, yesterday, so I knew there had been an intrusion. After latching the barn door shut, again, I headed upstairs to check on Elizabeth and saw her with her schoolbooks and assignment sheets in disarray. I already struggle to understand her system but, today, I wasn’t interested in getting it. Seeing the gross disorganization of what should be the girls’ private retreat was the blinking red light as the arms folded down to block the path across the rails of the accelerating locomotive.

“I’ve had it!” I heard my voice cry out like a blaring train whistle.

My inner drill sergeant had awoken and it was time for Mommy Boot Camp.

Elizabeth was given strict instructions to organize her schoolwork while Murron was told that her Barbies wouldn’t see the light of day until her clothes were put where they belonged. Even the boys with their deer-in-headlights countenances were commanded to clean their room which had stuffed toys strewn about, bedding rumpled in various corners, and clothes out of drawers. Ulie and Aulay meekly began to put things away. I left them to their work after remarking how good a job they were doing.

That’s when I was inspired to create movie tickets that the kids could earn by keeping their rooms clean, the toys put away, and by helping with laundry and dishes. I reasoned that it wouldn’t take me very long and the kids seemed occupied with their tasks. After finishing the simple document I clicked the print button. Nothing happened. After repeated tries, still nothing happened…I restarted the computer, I pushed the buttons on the printer, I turned the computer off, I turned off the power strip, I attempted everything I could imagine short of flipping all the switches in our breaker box on and off. Bill called to ask how things were going and, when I told him of the printing dilemma, he suggested that I jiggle the wires a little. Too simple, perhaps, but I was bereft of anything more original so, crawling under the computer table, I did just that.

It worked.

I’d be feeling almost totally satisfied, right now, if my sock wasn’t so wet because of stepping on the soggy washcloth the kids left on the bathroom floor.

Glory

And the children will lead them

2008-12-26T20:47:00.000-08:00

So Glory, Elizabeth and I watched a movie last night that was a box office hit back in the '90s. Glory and Elizabeth had never seen it before. I remember it being billed as something the whole family could watch -- until those same families took their little ones to the big screen and traumatized them for life. I am sure many of those little tykes still are in counseling.

So, tonight, after the little ones went to bed, Elizabeth asked if we wanted to watch a movie, perhaps the same one. "Do you want to watch 'Jesuit Park?'" she asked.

Now, I thought the body count in "Jurassic Park" was bad enough, what with images of dinosaurs feasting on human flesh. But what horrors would await us watching overzealous priests terrorizing the bewildered natives and scientists of that same tropical island? It's too frightening to imagine.

So, today was the day after Christmas. The kids were playing with their toys, even toys they have had all their lives but didn't realize it until they dumped out the entire content of the toybox. Ulie brought his new-to-him treasure to the breakfast table this morning -- something I remember kicking around in high school. Glory tried to get Ulie to call it by its proper name instead of just a "ball."

"It's a ha-cky sack," Glory said, enuniciating the words very carefully.

"Haaapppy Sexxxx," our three-year-old said, with a broad smile on his cherubic face.

No amount of correction, albeit peppered with snickers on our part, would get Ulie to pronounce it properly. "HAPPY SEX! HAPPY SEX!" he shouted, while running and throwing the hacky sack around the dining room.

Perhaps if those crazed murderous Jesuits had a few hacky sacks around, and a few three-year-olds to tell them exactly what they were, they would not have felt the need to try to convert the world at the point of a sword.

Bill

Merry Christmas!

2008-12-22T13:01:00.000-08:00

As I (Bill) write, we have at least a foot of snow on the ground, it’s freezing and light flakes are falling from a cloudy sky. After nearly seven years of living in the Pacific Northwest, the Craig family finally has experienced weather that is worthy of being called a snowstorm. Years past we haven’t had much snow, if any at all. This year it finally feels like winter, complete with everything in the community grinding to a halt. It’s as if people around here never have seen snowstorms before. Actually, they usually don’t! All this brings back many happy memories for Glory and me in Saskatchewan and Colorado of snowfalls, cold and silent nights, hot chocolate, and bundling up to go outside and play.

This year we had hoped for a slowed down version of 2007, but we found ourselves busier than ever.

Elizabeth turned 15 in August. She now is a freshman at our local home school/public school learning center. Elizabeth has taken part in a couple of youth group trips this year, had her braces removed in May, took part in a school musical in April and a community opera (“Amahl and the Night Visitors”) this month, and serves on the City Library Teen Advisory Board. She’s also in a writer’s group that meets at the library twice a month. She’s finding her niche, and Glory and I are very proud of her.

Murron will be six in February and is showing herself to be a very talented artist and little mommy. She often takes charge with her brothers by leading playtime activities and reminding them of the house rules. Murron has a very active imagination, and frequently plays with her “finger friends” who have their own very complicated world. Time and space doesn’t allow us to explain this fully. Someday she’ll write and illustrate a book series about them. Murron started kindergarten with the learning center this fall and has an insatiable desire to learn. Glory finds it challenging to keep up with her.

Uilleam (Ulie) turned three in September and started his collection of Thomas the Train gear. Don’t tell him this but he’s getting some more tracks on Christmas along with some more railway cars. He’s the busy boy and always needs to be doing something. Ulie is just about to graduate from a successful potty-training program, much to Glory and Bill’s (and their bank account’s) relief. Diapers are expensive for two kids! Ulie is a very literal boy. Elizabeth told him to watch his cup of milk when he was about to knock it over. He just held it and looked at it intently!

The second half of the Diaper Brothers is MacAulay, who now is 19 months old. He is by far the most social of all the kids. He’s learning to talk more, and is showing an enthusiastic interest in music. He’s our little head banger when more rocking tunes are playing around the house, but he can appreciate the classics, too. He especially likes accompanying his mom when she’s playing the piano. He watches everyone very closely, and is good at imitating us. Fortunately this hasn’t resulted in embarrassing moments for us; such is the clean lifestyle we live.

When she’s not trying her hand at being Supermom, Glory stays busy with other hobbies. She continues her work with our church worship team and leading worship for the annual ladies retreat in Winthrop, Wash. In June Glory's song "House of Love" was recorded again by her sister’s band. Glory recently reconnected with lots of long-lost friends via Facebook, some of whom have become fans of her music page. Glory also has shown off her culinary skills by providing meals for a four-day child passenger safety class of 15 people that Bill hosted in July. Glory was able to travel with Bill in Olympia in June for a Safe Kids conference, providing them both with much-needed couple time, which they rarely get anymore.

Bill has had a busy year that began in January with being sworn in by the mayor to the City Library board of trustees. Also in January Bill assumed the role of coalition coordinator for the local chapter of Safe Kids Worldwide. In fact, most of Bill’s travels this year involved Safe Kids. In February, Bill took Elizabeth to Washington, D.C. to get interviewed with Safe Kids about the family crash back on Nov. 25, 2003. You can see our story at www.skagitems.com/safekids.htm. While in D.C., Bill and Elizabeth toured the Capitol Building and the White House, too. It was fun for Elizabeth to see our nation’s capitol for the first time. Bill traveled back to Washington, D.C. in October for a week-long conference. Bill also became an elder in our church this fall, increasing his responsibilities that he takes very seriously as a family and church leader.

As a family, the Craigs have stayed busy by opening their home regularly for church game nights and during the holidays, too, to families that don’t have places to go. Folks enjoy our home, and we’re glad they do.

We didn’t get to visit our beloved coastline much this year, but managed to squeeze in a visit to Ocean Shores, Wash., on Mother’s Day. We flew kites and had a blast.

The highlight of the year was the annual Craig family vacation, this time to Saskatchewan and Wyoming, visiting family. This year marked the first-ever Funk Family reunion. All 1,000 of Glory’s relatives were there. We also got to see Bill’s mother and a sister and her family in Wyoming, for the first time in more than six years. Along the way we logged more than 3,000 miles in our van, and got to see Devil’s Tower in Wyoming, Mount Rushmore in South Dakota, and a HUGE Ukrainian Easter Egg in Vegreville, Alberta. We were dead tired when we got back home, but were glad to have been able to see everyone again.

All we can say about 2009 is that we’re planning a trip to Colorado in July. Stay tuned for details. Who knows what else the new year will bring?
We’re trying to slow down and enjoy the holidays now. So, from our snowy home to you, we wish you a Merry Christmas, Happy New Year and a blessing that God grants you peace and joy.

Love,
Bill, Glory, Elizabeth, Murron, Ulie, Aulay and Thumper (the rabbit)

See? We told you they're evil!

2008-12-11T22:11:00.000-08:00

This is dedicated to all the dear old imposters who just can't seem to win over the tots who can sense the deception, the manipulations, and the outright LIES!!! Nice try, Santa baby, nice try...

This picture proves that this phenomenon isn't a recent one. Kids have been scared of Santa for a long, long time.

This guy looks like a poorly disguised terrorist! I'll bet he's packing all kinds of heat under that beard...

And this guy looks even more scared than the baby. Are the parents gone out to a movie? Are they coming back? Where are the PARENTS?!

Dad, would you get the kid off Santa's lap, already???

Was he plotting an abduction?

And...our personal favorite: Ho Ho HORRORS!

More Holiday Terrors to view.
Glory

Big Family

2008-12-02T16:15:00.000-08:00

Bill and I have four kids. It's not a lot, to us, but sometimes relatives or friends we haven't seen in a long time chuckle, "Wow, you've been busy!" We generally smile and say, "Uh huh!" because, well, we have been...as we should be, right? Even passersby will raise their eyebrows in surprise when we march our little troop along sidewalks or store aisles. I've been tempted to say, loud enough to hear, "Now, let's find your parents, sweetie!" Bill has 5 siblings so he understands a bit of the "big family" stigma. I, on the other hand, have 14 siblings so I understand more of the "BIG FAMILY" stigma. The funny thing is that, as a little girl in school, I wondered what was wrong with these folks who couldn't manage to have more than two, three, or four kids. Poor diet? Disability?

Anyway, there are a few families in our church who have four or more kids, even young families. It's kind of nice being in company with people who understand what sheltering, feeding, clothing, and managing a little brood is all about. It takes a lot of patience and prayer. Bill told me that the first thing he expects from me when he comes home from work is that the kids are still alive. So far, I've been consistent, though there are days...like today, when I discovered that our normally well behaved little girl embellished her dresser with a dark furniture stain marker. A friend said recently, "That's why God made them cute." She was obviously just cute enough, and it helped that I could remove all traces of her artwork (it was very nicely done art, by the way) with nail polish remover and cotton balls.

It's hard to get a handle on everything, too. Like potty training our 3 year old who still hasn't managed to tell us before and not after he has to go potty. Who cares if he's still wearing diapers at 5 if I'm going to homeschool him anyway?!

So, it's nice when I get a little pat on the back from church friends who are taking the same journey with me through cracker crumbs in the sofa and doorway jungle gyms. It's like having a big family to come alongside us and nod their heads in genuine understanding. Of course, because they really do know what it's like to peel playdough off their best jeans and grapple with a squashed tube of lipstick before heading out on a rare date. Just make sure to tell me if there's a banana sticker on my backside before I leave, okay?

Glory

Being Thankful

2008-11-24T09:31:00.001-08:00

Thanksgiving is upon us again.

It's a time to be thankful. I know that for many that is a hard concept because of the state of the economy, what's happening in the world and in our country and all that. But, being thankful is what we must be because God gives us plenty of reasons to be thankful, starting with that He died on the cross for our sins and rose again on the third day defeating death and hell. How thankful I am because I have access to God through Christ and can rest in knowing that I will be with Him one day.

My 11 other reasons to be thankful:

1. My wife and kids are with me and love me, and like me most of the time, too.
2. We are alive and well and healthly despite our various aches and pains.
3. I have a great job that at least through 2009 has been spared the budget-cutting ax.
4. We have a roof over our heads.
5. We have a great church where we worship freely and can exercise our beliefs without too much trouble.
6. We have family and friends.
7. We have food.
8. We have clothes.
9. We live in a good and safe community.
10. We have enough to share with others.
11. Despite our country becoming increasingly wicked, we live in a mostly-free country where we don't have to fear that thugs with a military junta are going to plunder my home, hurt or kill my family and basically cause me to fear for my very existence.

Remember on Thanksgiving that many, if not most of us, have it so good. Let us be grateful for that and gracious to others this week by sharing what you have by opening your home or helping out with feeding the homeless at a local food bank or church. You'll be even more thankful for doing so.

Bill.

Give US A King

2008-11-05T17:00:00.000-08:00

I am not ashamed to admit that I voted for McCain, but I have to admit that we were given, yet again, two poor choices. It's unfortuate that our temporary problems with the economy caused people not to look at what our new president really stands for. But, seeing that he is going to be our president, we should pray for him as we're commanded to. Perhaps his heart can be changed on issues that destroy our country's fabric, like abortion.

But I also will say that the Republican party did not give people a reason to vote Republican. With that, I am reminded of the account when the Hebrews stopped wanting a theocracy and demanded a king. They were given no reason to stick with the status quo:

"Look, you are old, and your sons do not walk in your ways. Now make us a king to judge us like all the nations."
But the thing displeased Samuel when they said, "Give us a king to judge us." So Samuel prayed to the LORD.
"Now therefore, heed their voice. However, you shall solemnly forewarn them, and show them the behavior of the king who will reign over them."
So Samuel told all the words of the LORD to the people who asked him for a king.
And he said, "This will be the behavior of the king who will reign over you: He will take your sons and appoint [them] for his own chariots and [to be] his horsemen, and [some] will run before his chariots.
"And you will cry out in that day because of your king whom you have chosen for yourselves, and the LORD will not hear you in that day."
Nevertheless the people refused to obey the voice of Samuel; and they said, "No, but we will have a king over us. (I Samuel Chapter 8).

Yep, we've got our king. And it's our own fault. But, following history, Israel and Judah had a few good kings. I pray that despite our wickedness as a nation, God will move in the hearts of those who represent us and things really will turn around for the good in the USA. But it has to be God who leads us because people will just ruin our country, just as people have taken this country down the toilet during the past eight years, and just as people have ruined every other country that has graced the face of this earth.

Bill

See ya at my funeral

2008-11-04T10:56:00.000-08:00

So a coworker told me today of one of her dad's coworkers who dropped dead yesterday at his desk. The event gave the dad some food for thought. One, life isn't guaranteed tomorrow, so one needs to live it well. And second, perhaps the grudges he had been holding against a relative isn't all that worth it. Perhaps a phone call to his brother he hasn't spoken to in two years was in order.

My sentiments exactly, I told my coworker. Grudges are evil and waste of time.

Too bad too many wait until it's too late.

I guess for them I just have to give them an invitation to my upcoming funeral. Too bad I won't be able to hear anything they might have to say. But for them, I hope the wait was worth it.

Bill

Lies, lies, lies

2008-10-31T13:06:00.000-07:00

Yes, it's lying, er, election season. Thankfully all will be over soon, but until we wake up next Wednesday and prepare for life with Barack or John, we have to keep hearing more lies than a five-year-old can tell why he wasn't the one who robbed the cookie jar and played in the mud in his new clothes while eating those cookies and then tracked the mud and cookie crumbs in the house right into his bedroom.

While the evidence is obvious with sneaky five-year-olds, so too is the evidence of a sneaky former community organizer and his associations with left-wing hooligans. Funny how one person can tell bald face lies...and people believe him! Funny, too, how people will buy hook, line and sinker a politican's promises that he will give tax breaks to those making less than $250,000, or, sorry, $150,000, oops, less than $100,000, and smile, thanking the Messiah for the help. And what lies wouldn't be more attractive than FREE health care, FREE education, MORE teachers to provide that education, less taxes to pay for all this stuff and the promise of every chicken in a pot (oh, sorry, that was another liberal who said that).

Yes, I love election season; promises and bribes for votes. Don't get me wrong. I know my friends on the right are just as guilty. It's called vote-getting. But, I think when politicians pander to desperate people, focusing on current, but short-term difficulties while their real positions on welfare expansion, killing the unborn and increasing our government's power of intrusion in our lives gets ignored, it makes me really question the priorities of my countrymen.

Turning to the Bible, are we capable of selling out for a bowl of soup, like Esau? Are we willing to sell out for a leader who will take more, use his people and steal what's not his, like God warned what their king would be like when they demanded one instead of being ruled by God? I believe we are. We're no different than these.

We'll believe the lies if they make us feel better. But I have a sneaking suspicion that should those lies propel a certain Democrat into the White House, none of us will be feeling well in very short order. And then, like the Hebrews who sold out in the Wilderness, those who bought the lies will be screaming that they've been duped and they finally see the light. Too bad it will be too late.

Bill

Atypical Date

2008-10-27T11:11:00.000-07:00

It was a spontaneous idea but that's what made it exciting and special. Bill had to make a trip down to Seattle and I decided I wanted to go along for the ride. We make good road trip pals and it's always good to get in some coupletime sans kids. So we pleaded with our friends to help out and, by 3:30 p.m. Bill and I were off.

We were on a mission, though. Terry, Bill’s boss, has had a relapse and now has end-stage leukemia. This also means he has to have a bone marrow transplant. At the stage he's in, the odds are not in his favor, but still, we know God can heal. At any rate, Bill was tasked with bringing fresh flowers and a care package filled with magazines, snacks, game books, and other things to help Terry, his wife and daughter, and other family caregivers pass the time more comfortably.

Terry is 55, is married to Beverly and has four grown children. He has been Bill’s immediate supervisor for about two years now, but he has worked with him teaching CPR for more than five. In fact, most of the material Bill presents in his classes he stole from Terry. I got my CPR card from Terry five years ago this fall. We have enjoyed many family meals or holiday meals at the office with Terry and other coworkers. We even spent Easter Sunday at his church this year with his family.

Bill and I arrived at the U of W Medical Center, where Terry's being treated via IV chemotherapy. It was Terry's daughter who greeted us and I hugged her gently. She is young, perhaps 20 or 21, and looks a lot like her dad. She informed us that Terry was a little feistier than usual, which makes him more aware of his pain, and might be testy and snappy with us. That would be his signal that he was done with the visit. Soon afterward Beverly, his wife came into the room, whom I hugged as well. It was my hope that my presence, another woman, would comfort them and help these brave ladies feel more at ease. I think it had the desired effect as they conversed freely with us.

He's in a lot of pain, deep in the large bones of the body, where the cancer cells are multiplying. It is amazing how rapidly this is happening. Just a month ago we were celebrating his remission. Terry does know the Lord, which is good. We just continue to trust Him for his healing, but if that's not what God will give, then we pray for comfort and courage for Terry and his family. Beverly handed us a written log of people's visits, a small beautifully designed booklet with the word Believe on the cover. Bill wrote first then I wrote of how blessed I have been that Terry has shared an office with Bill and, in made ways, has had his back. I wanted to be personal and I hope it has meaning for them.

After spending more time at the hospital than we expected, which was good, we made our way home. We talked about our lives, mostly about Terry and his disease, but also about what we believe God has called us to. It has fallen to us quite often to minister to people in these kinds of dark and uncertain moments of their life. We stopped at a Subway for a hot sandwich, chips, cookies and soda. As we continued on home Bill asked me how I liked our ministry date. And, honestly, I would rather do this than see a movie or go out to dinner. Those things have their place, I am sure, but this is when Bill and I see each other's best selves, when we are about the Lord's business, and serving together.

Glory

The Car Seat Guy

2008-10-18T14:55:00.000-07:00

With the recent hubbub surrounding Joe the Plumber, I know that there are some stories that are, unfortunately, being relegated to the background. One such story being quite nearly as remarkable yet understated. It is a story that began not long ago and very close to home, actually, right in our home.

Bill the Car Seat Guy.

Yes, Bill has been working tirelessly right here helping kids get into car seats and parents comply with the law. He has sought support from such a wide variety of sources that his trip to Washington DC was inevitable. He is flying home from this venture as I write this.

He considered going for the conservative interest but realized that he might be selling himself short, so he pondered the liberal bleeding hearts, but even there he met with limitations. So, he decided to go where angels fear to tread: the middle ground. His strategy in this was ingenious.
He attended a dinner, a very special dinner, an exclusive event to be sure. Even the food was beyond anything his wife at home has ever attempted to create.

Then he simply introduced himself as Bill the Car Seat Guy to these fellows right here, and the rest is now history in the making. And, so far, his story checks out, his certification and income taxes are current and up to date!

Glory

Gutless Wonder

2008-10-14T19:55:00.000-07:00

Just look up wimp in Webster's Dictionary and you'll see my name as a reference. This isn't a statement of self-deprication, it's a wry reality.

The truth is, goodbyes just aren't good to me. The word hangs in the doorway like a cheap tattered grey shawl. Just skulking in the corner with a sardonic grin while I pry myself away from the window pane, and force my hand frozen in mid wave down to my side. It doesn't leave when I throw laundry into the washer. It loiters while I fix meals or sweep floors. Goodbye is the lingering reminder that someone is gone. It's here and present right now as I type.

Bill kissed and held me early this morning while most others would have only just yielded to a deep sleep. He was dressed and heading out the door to catch a shuttle to the airport. His carefully selected cologne hung in the air around me like a cloud lulling me back to sleep. When our boys came charging into the room several hours later the scent was gone but his goodbye had stayed behind. I am accustomed to Bill returning the blinking tots to their beds for another few moments of rest, but it was left to me to clumsily perform this unwelcome task. Mornings aren’t very cooperative with me, as it is, so I am often picking my battles with it.

And what a cowardly warrior I am.

Someday I might properly defy loneliness by increasing my productivity. That would, of course, take quite a domestic form such as mending clothes, small household repairs, and taking stock of food and sundry items. I would rally my troops – aka kiddos – and get out of the house, take walks, and explore the territory. Later in the day we would plot more effective strategies of combating boredom and avoid the obvious questions, “Where is Daddy?”, “When is Daddy coming home?”, or “Why isn’t Daddy here?” I would plant enticing diversions, videos, coloring books, and yummy snacks throwing off the scent of sighs, groans, and huffs. Then the goodbye brazenly draped at our home’s entrance wouldn’t even get a second glance.

But, oh no, I couldn’t be that brave, that stalwart, or heroic.

I had to succumb to online meanderings between guilt trips to the sink full of dishes. I sheepishly ducked behind my cup of Market Spice tea, Bill’s favorite, and sucked on a cinnamon candy. I have even left the family room in overwhelming disarray. But, most shameful of all my failed attempts, I surrendered to mail-order shopping with Yves Rocher. And I’m entirely convinced, now, that the goodbye has moved from the doorway and is holding the remote control.

Glory

Early Snowfall

2008-10-10T13:21:00.000-07:00

This morning was chilly when I woke up. Our boys had already left their room so I turned on our furnace and let them huddle beside the warm register. When I opened the door to their room I just sighed deeply and blinked slowly. They have developed a new strategy of making me go out of my mind. I have no idea when they concocted this diabolical scheme of theirs but it seems to be working. Let's say it looked like they were in a giant snowglobe that had toys, clothes, and diapers instead of lovely white snowflakes...and someone shook it up really hard. I would get to it later, I decided.

So, I proceeded to make oatmeal for breakfast and thought that today would be a good soup day. As I stirred up the oatmeal I wondered if our little girl would be eating any. She's been sick for the past four days with a fever and upset tummy. I called the girls down for breakfast and my intuition was correct. Having one less eater in the morning meant that I had leftover oatmeal. Reheated porridge sounds hardly appetizing so I thought it'd be a good idea to make bread with it.

Before I started on making the bread the idea of salty clear broth over gently yielding noodles wrapped my thoughts in warmth and comfort. That's when I decided to make homemade chicken noodle soup. I pulled out my family cookbook, the one with my grandma's heritage recipes. I took poultry scraps out of the freezer, placed them in our biggest pot and poured water over to almost full. My teaball that I use for the bouquet garni was missing its bottom half so I managed to put the ginger, star anise, cloves, parsley, bay leaf, and peppercorns in a coffee filter and secured it with a twist tie.

Then I made the bread. I know this recipe by heart but it's a little tricky using leftover oatmeal like this. I have to reduce the liquid by whatever amount of cooked oatmeal I have on hand. The boys watched as I mixed in the flour until I had a dough that was soft yet manageable. They love to "help" by pretending to dust flour onto the table as I knead the dough until it's just right. I don't mind their little flour-laden fingers too much.

This conjured up my inner Proverbs 31 woman-meets-Betty Crocker and I felt quite good about my productive morning. So, when all was done, the dough rising and the soup stock cooking, I sat down and started to watch the latest Saturday Night Live skit of the Obama - McCain debate. I was a few minutes into it when I thought I'd fetch my tea. When I walked into the kitchen I was stopped abruptly in my tracks like an Arctic blast of icy wind. What I saw made me want to laugh, cry, and start a rousing chorus of "Dashing through the snow..." all at once. I didn't laugh, though, or cry. I don't recall saying a word as I walked into our office, retrieved our camera, and snapped this photo. Not exactly lovely white snowflakes but my snowglobe certainly got shook up really good, this morning:

Thrift Store Rainbows

2008-10-06T14:13:00.000-07:00

Maybe it’s because I was raised on handed down clothing that I enjoy thrift stores. As a young girl I would be overjoyed when a bag of clothes, shoes, and other items would arrive to our house. My sisters and I would gather around to see what we could find and we were always thrilled to find additional things like scarves, purses, jewelry and other accessories.

Having four children, now, I am learning how to navigate thrift stores quite well. I try to steer clear of sales gimmicks like “50% off Blue Tagged Items” or tables featuring cowboy boots of all sizes, styles, and colors. Our family has a rule we strive to follow: get only what you came for. Most of the time we’re really good at complying with that rule, though there are exceptions.

Yesterday we went in with the purpose of buying church shoes for our 5 year old daughter. Given the Fall season our teen wanted to look for costume items for the upcoming Harvest Party at our church while our boys sat happily in the cart playing with toy emergency vehicles. I found two pairs of shoes; one pair looked hardly worn while the other needed a little repair. We bought both of them, along with a few other items – the exceptions.

After I finished fixing the strap on one pair, this morning, our little girl brought me the other and said, “Look, Mommy, there’s rainbows in these shoes!” There was a shiny insole that held an iridescent sheen when turned this way and that. I smiled and nodded as she went her way. I didn’t really think about what she said until a moment ago. But the profound has away of landing gently in our thoughts.

Rainbows are Gods promise to us to never again flood the Earth. It is a symbol of God’s covenant of peace with us. Raising a family can be a frightening undertaking and worry comes in like a flood, sometimes. But when I remember God’s promises to us that we will not be consumed I can walk in His peace. Like our daughter, I can wear my rainbow shoes with the unwavering confidence that God cares for me.

Guide our feet into the way of peace.
Luke 1:79

Glory

Happy Birthday, Dad!

2008-08-06T09:10:00.001-07:00

This was the last our whole family saw Dad, in May of 2007. MacAulay and I were in Saskatchewan back in September 2007 so another visit is long overdue.

Dad is the only grandfather to our children and it's hard, sometimes, that we just don't get together very often. He has also taken Bill as his son in many ways, and Bill respecfully calls him "Dad."

Dad has a kind of quiet strength and peace that our family appreciates and responds to. Lives are busy and days fly by so quickly it is so important to embrace calm. Whether it's just sitting down to coffee and conversation or reading a book to a little one (as in the above picture) Dad has always understood the meaning and reason for rest. It grounds us and makes us really think about what we're thinking about. And if you listen to Dad talk you know that he does a whole lot more thinking than most.

It's a good example that I want to follow.

Glory

For The SAFETY Of Our Babies And Kids

2008-07-29T15:21:00.000-07:00

We're heading out on the highway in less than two weeks. Getting this in our e-mail was timely as we are setting up our packing list. This is what Bill works for. With a little common sense and a lot of prayer we will depart and return together and in one piece.

SAFE KIDS USA NEWS ALERT

Child Safety A Must, Especially During Summer Vacation

Watch the NBC vacation safety segment that aired this morning on The Today Show, featuring Alan Korn of Safe Kids USA, and the Michalson family, Safe Kids USA parent advocates.

Safe Kids USA offers these tips for keeping kids safe during your vacation:

- Properly secure all children younger than 13 in a back seat for every ride in the car. Keep children in the right type of car seat or booster seat until adult lap and shoulder belts fit them correctly. If you are flying to your destination, bring any car seats with you so your children ride safely in cars while on vacation.

- Make sure your children wear a helmet and other protective gear every time they bike, skate, skateboard or ride a scooter. Bring the gear with you if none will be available while you're traveling.

- Bring your own folding playpen rather than using a borrowed crib. If you do use a hotel's crib, inspect it for broken or missing parts to make sure it is not defective, damaged or even recalled from the market. Visit www.recalls.gov to check the model number.

- Actively supervise children in or around water. Never take your eyes off of your children. Always make sure your children wear life jackets when riding on boats or playing in or near open bodies of water.

For more information, please visit SafeKids.

Diagnosis: Jonah Personality Disorder

2008-07-10T11:01:00.000-07:00

No, I have not been called to prophecy in any wicked country. At the very most I am obligated to speak the truth in love as I have opportunity. So, most of the time, I just listen to the concerns of others and share what I have learned through my own life while expressing my convictions. Then when I hear a report about how, despite bad choices and poor judgement, people are spared disaster and suffering I say, "Oh, how wonderful for you!" just like I should. Sounds innocuous on the surface, right?

Well, I've had to confront a pretty ugly reality that lurks below my gentle nodding, my soft voice, and my soothing countenance: my inner Jonah is stomping his feet, muttering under his breath, and frowning with a clenched jaw.

You see, all of my life I believed that as long as I tried to do the right thing nothing really bad would ever happen to me. Goodness gets rewarded and foolishness gets punished. Now, I know that regardless of my own shortcomings I have never gotten what I truly deserved. For this I should be so grateful and appreciative that it wouldn't matter to me if no one else got what they deserved either. Oh, that I could be so benevolent...

Instead, I sit and stew over wrongdoing and look for any sign that God is taking this as seriously as I am.

The truth? God takes this far more seriously than I ever could. Oh, I know what I have read about His character so I've got a pretty clear understanding of His mind about sin. And that includes MY sin.

So, if anyone I know also has Jonah Personality Disorder, I'm relived beyond measure that they keep it to themselves enough to never let on. Getting tossed out of a boat scares me and sitting in the belly of a whale isn't my idea of a weekend retreat. Before any of that happens, I'm starting a treatment program in compassion and management classes in mercy. I'll let you know how it turns out.

Glory

WALKING....finally!

2008-07-02T12:36:00.000-07:00

Yes, our littlest guy was a late bloomer, I suppose. I could explain it away that he had so many willing tot-toters around, or that he was too afraid that we'd make him start pulling his weight around here, or that maybe his growing intellectual capabilities were using up all the energy and impetus that might have otherwise encouraged him to walk...yeah, okay...a mom's gotta figure this out somehow, right? But yesterday he took his first truly confident steps. You know the ones that say, *I'm a big boy, darn it, and I'm aiming to prove it!" It started out as a couple of steps then he just blazed a pioneering trail between the TV stand and his daddy. Today he's getting bolder and more sure of himself all the time.

A Better Class of Man

2008-06-26T14:21:00.000-07:00

© 2008 Glory L Craig

You are a man who has retained the youthful enjoyment of clean wholesome fun and wonder of discovery and conquest.

You are a man who is both fierce and tender in your loyalties to your most significant relationships.

You are a man who knows your weaknesses and your strengths but will not be stubborn or lazy about them.

You are a man who holds your blessings with open hands that are strong enough to carry your responsibilities but yielding enough to release them when the time calls for it.

You are a man who counts the cost of your time, energy, and resources and prudently considers the impact that any withdrawal from these valuable assets will have on you and those around you.

You are a man who is diligent in occupying yourself in both paid and unpaid occupations without seeking favor or reward for your efforts and hard work.

You are a man whose manner and taste allows you to remain approachable yet permits you to be at ease in the company of the dignified and refined regardless of any differences in social class.

You are a man whose word is sound and trustworthy therefore you are not hasty to give it yet by your own principles you do what is right and honorable without the need to offer oaths.

You are a man who understands well both your strengths and weaknesses yet never exaggerates or minimizes either one.

You are a man who is gentle and kind to the smallest of God’s creations and reluctant to cause harm to anything that lives.

You are a man who proves your value and worth simply by living out your convictions and principles and thus demonstrating all that you have to offer.

You are a man who regards all things important and essential to life and living with all due reverence and solemnity.

You are a man whose eyes are fixed unwaveringly on your destination so every step and action corresponds to your focus and attention.

You are a man who transcends all that may have previously been thought as possible and sets precedent for anyone who observes you.

You are a man whose keen mind is carefully turned over, nurtured, and nourished with appropriate virtues therefore remaining healthy and vibrant.

You are a man whose sense of duty and penchant for risk coincide harmoniously so that you can perform the difficult unflinchingly both in and out of season.

Daddy, pleeeeeeze!

2008-06-16T17:13:00.001-07:00

This morning while I was getting ready for work my oldest son, all of two years old, reached for a chocolate piece that was on the dresser. It was wrapped with foil and fitted with a little flag with a message to me from my wife. We have a hidden stash of these to leave on each other's pillows from time to time, to express our love, appreciation or fondness for each other. I told my son to put it down because it was daddy's. He put it down and left the room.

When I headed back to the room after I was about to leave for work, my son greeted me, waving and saying "C'mon, c'mon." We got to the room, where, with his left hand he was pointing at the corner and telling me that's where he put some trash. I looked at his right hand. It was tightly clutching the chocolate. I told him that he couldn't have that because it was daddy's and I took it from him. He burst out in tears and cried. I told him I appreciated him showing me that he properly disposed of trash, but he still couldn't have the candy. He cried loudly for a couple of more seconds.

Then he poured out his heart. "Daddy. Pleeeeeeze!"

I never had heard him say please like that before, and it slapped my heart around in my chest. I just stopped and looked at my broken hearted little boy.

"You said please?" I asked him.

"Yeahhhhhh," he cried.

I said OK and put the chocolate in his mouth.

I about cried.

What daddy could not fall for that.

Bill

Lost Angels: Encounters with First Nations

2008-06-12T13:47:00.000-07:00

Paula Laureen Henderson uses her experiences with Canadian aboriginals to pose these questions: What will happen as the Canadian Aboriginal population in the prairies out numbers the white population? Will a new youthful generation be able to embrace change and intertwine our visions and goals for the survival of our nation, or will there be a power struggle that shakes Canada's foundation to the core? Will God keep our land glorious and free?

Ottawa (May 17, 2008) - The Ottawa Public Library (OPL) welcomes Paula Henderson to the Main Library on Saturday, May 31st at 1 p.m. Henderson will read from her new book Lost Angels: Encounters with First Nations. Copies of her book will be available for purchase.

Paula Henderson has a background in Public Administration. She is the founder of Gumdrop Enterprise, an independent publisher which encourages young artists with a vision. Henderson is the author of College Survival Guide: You are not
Alone.

The Main Library is located at 120 Metcalfe St. For more information please call InfoService at 613-580-2940 or visit BiblioOttawaLibrary.ca.

For more information:
Michael Murphy
Coordinator, Adult & Readers' Advisory Services
Main Library
Ottawa Public Library
613-580-2424, ext. 32115

Paula Laureen Henderson (Reading and Signing)
Tuesday Jun 24 2008 7:00 pm, Winnipeg, McNalley Robinson Polo Park location, in the Events Alcove

A reading and signing of Lost Angels: Encounters with First Nations. Henderson's interactions with First Nations people illustrate her perceptions and concern for public policies that do not work; Instead, she observes how these policies stimulate financial burden, substance abuse, racism and culture barriers. Henderson is a public speaker from Saskatchewan, the founder of Gumdrop Enterprises and holds a degree in public administration.

Paula Laureen Henderson (Reading & Signing)
Monday Jun 30 2008 7:00 pm, Saskatoon, McNalley Robinson Art Alcove

Paula discusses her own complex relationships with First Nations friends and acquaintances in an effort to shed light on the difficulties facing our province and country as the Aboriginal population grows, but does not find equality.

The Path

2007-12-29T16:20:00.000-08:00

Every step requires
trust.
A mystery unfolds
with each stride.
Questions answered
New inquiries formed
As the trek begins anew.
And there on the horizon
A bend
up and over
We've done this before
Let's imagine
And realize
Together

Thank you for writing this for my birthday, Honey!

Has anyone seen my lost Christmas Eve?

2007-12-25T00:07:00.000-08:00

The best one-word description of it that I can give you is tradition. My Christmas Eve is full and overflowing with things that I know I can expect. Most of the day is spent preparing for Christmas dinner. A turkey is thawing, cranberry sauce is cooling on the kitchen counter, sweetly spiced pies are just getting placed in a preheated oven, and bread and vegetables are prepared for stuffing. Much later on a simple meal of sandwiches is set out onto the table.

Within an hour of enjoying light fare the piano is opened and Christmas carols are selected to be played and sung. Everyone has a favorite that, of course, we must never neglect to sing. After all, in keeping this tradition, we remind ourselves of why we gather to celebrate the birth of Jesus. Our Savior’s birth is so significant because He came to seek and to save the lost. So, singing carols must be honored and cherished.

Christmas Eve, to me, is such a sacred time that I have committed to memory even the finer details that are so invaluable. Things like playing games with family, talking about children, and opening a single gift each. These small aspects really do add to the festive atmosphere and lend their own spirit. But, this year, I lost my Christmas Eve.

It began promising enough. I had my list of things I wanted to be sure to do. I didn’t have to worry about cooking a turkey since one had been cooked in advance and simply needed to be reheated. Although I could have made more of an effort to bake pies, I knew that we had plenty already made in our refrigerator. Stuffing is definitely a nice accent to Christmas dinner but, even there, I didn’t concern myself too much over preparing it and the cranberry sauce is a quick fix.

Then the unexpected happened. We were asked by a friend if we had room in our home for them. They weren’t to be overnight guests but I was certain that we could accommodate their presence quite easily. I was going to prepare, like always, I planned to sing, as usual, and we would open gifts on cue.

This was not to be as I soon realized that my Christmas Eve left our house when our guests walked in the door. They came in need of refuge and respite. They were hungry so we fed them the turkey that had been cooked. They were thirsty so we mixed up cocoa for them to drink. And we offered them our attention and sincere care for their needs. But still I missed my Christmas Eve.

As the evening wore on I struggled to retain the traditions that had always meant so much to me. A book of Christmas carols lay open and silent on the piano. A closet full of entertaining games was closed. And a bundle of gifts were unopened. But a new Christmas Eve entered our home where my old one had left. One that I am happy to have found and humbled to say I almost had no room for. And I know that the one that joined us this evening is the one that Jesus wanted us to have all along.

Have a Blessed Christmas!

An Intensely Festive Christmas

2007-12-06T14:47:00.000-08:00

We are critically hooked on this music from Trans-Siberian Orchestra.

I'm just posting these here because I'd rather not have to navigate for them on YouTube.

Really Big KUDOS!

2007-11-20T23:07:00.000-08:00

I had the great priviledge of hanging out with Paula, my long-term friend, during the end of September. She's just the kind of woman who inspires, provokes, and coddles me over Szechuan Cashew Chicken (even if she's forking bits off my plate). How we have remained friends over 17 years is a story that we've sworn to never tell, unless a sizable cash and benefits award is involved. If so, please hand over the notebook and pen!

I am extremely proud to say that she has joined the ranks of published authors. True to form, though, she has gone beyond this already considerable feat and has become a publisher as well. Bravo! In September I was her trusty sidekick during a comedy routine/booksigning event where I watched her connect with a broad spectrum of bookstore customers. She is authentic, gutsy, and a blessed lady...who has also overcome the beastly task of setting up her own website...Paula, I knew you could!

Glory

We Were Interviewed! Sort of...

2007-11-18T23:30:00.000-08:00

So it was almost a year ago but, still, it made me feel spiritual and sage-like. Shana is from MeetChristians, the site where Bill and I met and courted more than six years ago. Bill was more of an interview coach but we agreed on pretty much everything, and still do. Read for yourself and decide if I'm telling the truth!

Shana: My question if you don`t mind sharing is what the decision making process is in your marriage in different areas and how it has evolved if at all. Examples too.

Glory: This isn’t something we sit down and strategize. We’re both strong communicators by personality so we’re nearly always hashing out decisions. We’re also open to a lot of expert opinion and our favorite resource is ChristianityToday.com. Ultimately, our process is 1. Approach the subject, 2. talk it over, 3. pray about it, 4. think it over, then 5. come to an agreement, though 2 to 4 are not always in that order.

For the sake of simplicity, I'm going to go with just three categories of decisions. Obviously there are usually more than that and some decisions straddle two or more categories.

Day-to-day: These include things like meals, leisure, or shopping. We generally talk about what we want, what we’re doing, or just ask, “What do you think?” This area is so fluid, though, that compromises are very common, no ones feelings are hurt if one or the other spouse wasn’t included in the decision, and the results aren’t crucial to family harmony. This is kind of the ad-lib part of our marriage, which makes contentment obtainable.

Family-Specific Issues: These would include finances, discipline, and extra-curricular activities. We do talk about this stuff a bit more seriously since it’s kind of the meat and potatoes of our marriage. This is where Bill’s strong leadership comes into play most often. We had to work a lot of this out in the first year (months even?) of our marriage and Glory had to work very hard at being submitted. It took me awhile to really trust God in doing this but I was glad when we sorted this out early on. We make appropriate adjustments to these things, of course, but the basic ideas are always the same.

Take discipline. I am generally more lenient where Bill is strict. There can be no argument about this, though, or the kids will suffer greatly for our disunity. I had to realize that it was for our children’s best interests to have proper boundaries and structure. Also in finances, I like to spend where he likes to save. Extra-curricular, I like to get out and do a lot of stuff but Bill likes a less busy life-style. It might sound harsh but wives really do have to make the most compromises just because our husbands are to be the leaders in our homes.

Critical Life Events: The deeply impacting nature of these types of decisions MUST have ample time to be prayed over and discussed as much as possible. These are events like church affiliation, family size, and relocation. If there is no agreement about these kinds of decisions there can be no peace or unity in the home.

Shana: How much of this did you have ironed out verses figuring it out as you went along?

Glory: Well, I would say that we could determine just so much prior to marriage. Until we had three children in our home, for example, we thought having four kids was a reasonable number, which it still is. However, I didn’t take into account my post-partum depression, gestational diabetes, or any other risk factors to pregnancy. I was terrified of having a fourth baby but God has used this to heal me in so many ways, and to keep me focused on trusting Him and depending on Him. Bill and I made this a matter for prayer and fasting, last Spring, and we left this in God’s hands.

Another example is discipline of our kids. Elizabeth kept a very messy room and I talked to Bill about this at odd times during our courtship. But when he came to live with my brother and actually saw how it was messy, every day, he took matters into his own hands while I was at school and cleaned her room out…literally. She had her dresser with clothes, her closet with clothes and shoes, and her bed with bedding…that was it. No toys, books, crafts, contraband treats…NOTHING. I was a little shocked but also very relieved that something happened and it set a standard for Elizabeth what her father-to-be would expect of her.

The thing we really learned in advance of our marriage is how we communicated and could reach a decision on things. We agreed on what the truly important issues were and what was more ad-lib stuff of marriage.

Shana: Also, how much harder do you think it was for you to let go of the reigns, especially with being a former single parent up until the wedding day?

Glory: It was pretty excruciating. I was in love with the love of my life and he saw problems in my lifestyle, my financial choices, and my discipline of Elizabeth. It’s tough accepting criticism about things that are ingrained and single parents, for survival’s sake, really have to be rigid and stubborn about a lot of things. It was tough to let Bill crack through my rigidity and take the lead. Over time it wasn’t a matter of “letting”, though, and I learned what godly, biblical, wifely submission is. It’s not even close to what is sometimes portrayed as being a doormat. It is a position of strength and control…self-control. I am the one who maintains and manages the standards that, for the most part, Bill has set and I have agreed with for our family. Trying to usurp him, to me, is more of a weakness that I have no control over myself or our children…and Satan has a heyday in homes where wives don’t submit in a godly biblical manner.

Shana: Was it a gradual thing?

Glory: It was, and it has to be. “Laying down the law” didn’t even come to mind when Bill took the lead. He’s a pretty serious, intense guy, but he’s extremely gentle and loving in his approach. In fact, since I tend to do more of the talking around here, it would be easy to mistake who wears the pants. But anyone who has known us for any length of time beyond a single visit knows that I am happily following my leader. And it helped realizing that Bill would answer to God for all of it. “I wouldn’t be left holding the bag”, so to speak, which was another relief, as a former single parent.

Shana: And were you ever afraid?

Glory: Ya think? Terrified spitless!!! This was real. Bill’s love for God and His Word was real. His love and devotion to me was real. I had only known synthetic gems and fantasy plays but when my diamond came along, I had no idea how to take off the mask and costume and be real with him. He wasn’t so much my knight in shining armor, more like he was my gentle shepherd in rough linen robes. He chose me, stubborn and defiant as I was, and he came ready to lead. I had to get used to him, his voice, and his ways. Doesn’t this sound like Someone else we know? Bill has been my greatest education in becoming a godly woman, following my Shepherd, and always listening for His voice.

Shana: How long have you been married?

Glory: It will be five years on February 4, 2007. I’ve been excited about this milestone, but more excited about the milestones to come.

Shana: How have your emotions, trust, the fear factor etc. changed regarding submission from the courting stage through the first year of marriage until now?

Glory: During our courtship I was oblivious to any emotional responses I might have been experiencing toward submission. It’s all so easy to be flexible and accommodating when the chemistry is surging, the heart is melting, and the brain is taking a hiatus from analyzing anything important. It was after our engagement when Bill was living with my brother and saw me on a daily basis and in my element that I started to get a clue what submitting to Bill was about. I was a single mom, attending University, working at Elizabeth’s daycare, involved in three church ministries, and getting Elizabeth to ballet classes twice a week. Bill saw that and offered his perceptions about my ability to stretch myself as thin as I was, and I didn’t want to admit that I was strung out. I was holding my life with a closed fist and Bill was right there ready to help me let go of whatever I could stand to lose. He even commented, “This isn’t the Bill Show or the Glory Show. It’s the Bill and Glory Show.”

During our first year of marriage I have to admit that my fears were very connected with my distrust. Bill was trustworthy and I needed to realize that but I had spent 8 years in charge of everything. Yet here I was forced to rely wholly on my husband for everything. I wasn’t a legal US resident (at the time) so I couldn’t work and everything belonged to Bill. We lived with his cousin for one month until we moved to this county. But the apartment, the bills, the bank account, the vehicle title and insurance, was all in Bill’s name. It had to be that way and I accepted that. Then Bill lost his job so I needed to rely even more heavily on him to preserve our family. I truly believe God used that first year to purge a lot of selfishness and pride out of me and forge within my character what was necessary for marital unity and harmony. It has become one of the richest things to come out of our first year of marriage, the richest, of course, being Murron, born 18 days after our 1st anniversary!

Now there really isn’t a fear or distrust issue to deal with. I’m so secure with how we’ve developed our relationship. It’s still pretty funny, though, when Bill intrudes into my territory like cooking, furniture arrangement, or housekeeping tasks. I freak out at him, sometimes, but it’s just me being too self-contained in my areas of responsibility. His primary love language is acts of service so I sometimes perceive his assistance as an indication that I didn’t do my job rather than his way of expressing love to me. I’m much better about this than I used to be but it still catches me off guard, sometimes.

Shana: How has Bill's leadership style changed, if at all?

Glory: It hasn’t changed as much as it’s become more rounded and established. I probably had a harder time recognizing Bill’s authority as a leader because he’s not a lording leader, nor is he an authoritarian leader. He doesn’t lead like that in our Bible Studies, either. Those kinds of leaders probably have a lot of followers because they’re very talkative, dynamic, and attractive because they stand out. Bill isn’t like that because he’s more of a communicator, he engages people in discussion, and he doesn’t draw attention to himself. He has a gift of teaching which is a highly influential style of leadership but it’s subtle and easily missed as leadership. I recognize it, though, and love him immensely!

Seriously Plugging

2007-11-09T09:54:00.000-08:00

Our ever-capable and enduringly-creative worship pastor put together our church's website:

http://www.gcfmv.org/

It's WELL worth a look and listen...you might even get to hear me playing keys!

ENJOY!!!

Glory

Might as well be on a silver platter…

2007-10-23T15:32:00.000-07:00

Our daily walk of faith can be so daily, everyday, and ordinary. Weekly schedules are planned, routine, and ritual. Watching the clock becomes watching the calendar until we realize that we woke up and we have to flip the page over, again.

After some time has passed in our right-living and well-doing we begin to question if we are going anywhere. We evaluate our expenditures of time and energy and analyze our effectiveness in getting jobs done. At this point it’s very easy to resort to man’s acknowledgement and recognition to measure of our performance or determine our worth. If a considerable amount of time passes and our inner queries are met with silence it opens us up to discouragement and frustration.

Of course, being honest with ourselves inevitably results in the realization that we really do fall short of the mark. After all, when we know that someone has already gone before us setting the standard for our life, what else do we conclude but that we can never truly measure up? We want to bloom where we are planted or, as Bill likes to say, keep our minds where our backsides sit. But we can’t help but wonder if our interests and abilities are just too foreign to those we associate ourselves with. Perhaps we are in the way of someone else who can do the job better, or we can do our job better somewhere else. Either way, we just have to think we might need a change.

Then change comes, but not as we have predicted or expected. It comes in the form of a blessing. It doesn’t have to be a big blessing, a blessing we have been seeking, or even a blessing that answers any of our questions. But the blessing confirms our place in the body. We are enriched by the blessing and it refreshes in a way that dispels all discouragement and frustrations. And the blessing equips us for the tasks that are ahead of us.

We respond in the most simple and appropriate way: Thank you.

Glory

In fractured metacarpals and in health...

2007-10-11T09:52:00.000-07:00

On Tuesday Bill's side job as Superman took a bad turn. After leaping over a tall concrete barricade he landed on his head and shoulder and injured his hand. He was attending a meeting and when he shakily returned to his colleagues he whispered to one of them that he hurt himself and might have minor shock. He got ice on it and called me requesting my assistance as he went to the Urgent Care clinic. I walked in with him, wrote down his information and sat to his right on the bench.

While we waited, our youngest youngster in his car seat, I examined Bill's shoulder and head. Both had minimal abraisons. Then I looked at his hand and it was definitely swelling. I suddenly realized that they would have to cut his wedding ring off if the swelling continued. I tried turning it as Bill gasped and whimpered. A lady who was with her mother offered a small tube of hand lotion to lubricate Bill's finger. It worked and we successfully removed his wedding ring. Bill described the feeling inside his hand as crunching. We were called for more information and our copay which I handled as well. Then I sat on his left - his injured side - and tried to comfort him with an arm around his shoulder. As well-intentioned as it was he uttered a guttural protest to my affectionate gesture and the others waiting laughed. I felt silly and apologized nervously.

When Bill was finally called in he was examined, x-rayed, and examined again. The x-ray confirmed that he had splintered the fourth metacarpal of his left hand. He has an appointment to get a cast on Monday but he has a hand splint and a bottle of vicodin to get him through. In other words, his Superman days are suspended. He stayed home from work Tuesday afternoon but has been to work yesterday and today. However, being forced to alter his duties and slow down is hardly simple or easy.

Once a man of multiple abilities and talents he must do most of his jobs one-handed. Once a man of razor-sharp wit and responsiveness he requires further explanation and simpler queries. Now he is a hand-splinted acetaminophen and hydrocodone-hazed Super-de-dooper-man!

And I will be his extra pair of hands as he opens soda bottles, butters toast or ties his shoes or buttons, zips, and belts his pants. And when evening falls I will be his sofa-buddy as we sit through our ample supply of Twilight Zone episodes. Death Ship is especially tragic in a funny kind of way...

Glory

Beatnik and the Bugs

2007-09-08T14:15:00.000-07:00

Remember the post about the bad sun? Well, it gets even more telling...

About a week ago our little girl and I were having a talk about the rain, the clouds, and lighting candles when the day looks dreary. She then disclosed that clouds make her happy.

Um...interesting.

I asked her why clouds make her happy. To which she replied that she likes clouds and rain. The sun makes her sad. Really, it does. She only likes to play outside when it's cloudy.

For the record this is the same four-year-old girl who likes to wear black. We had to retire one of her favorite outfits awhile back when it became too small. A black turtleneck sweater and black leggings. A couple of Sundays ago she asked to wear a black dress, black tights, and black ankle boots to church. With reluctance she let me pull her long blond hair into a ponytail.

This is also a bug-lover. She is especially delighted with pill bugs. She holds them in her hands and giggles when their little legs tickle her palms. Yesterday we discovered a very intriguing caterpillar - yellow with little black dots and long white whiskers.

So, the other day she was putting together a puzzle that she's put together dozens of times now. She noticed that her little brother was squinting his eyes when the sunlight broke through the clouds and flooded our dining area. Immediately her mood shifted as she sighed.

"The sun is in the way."

I thought it was a brilliant take on the concept of darkness and light. Isn't that what happens when the sun first breaks above the horizon obscuring everything in range of view? Or when driving at night and some idi- um passerby has his high beams on. A little light is better but no light is just asking for trouble. I do expect that she will soon understand the merits of sunlight.

More importantly, though, I hope her spiritual light gets in the way of all the emotional clouds she will encounter throughout her life.

Glory

Having doubts

2007-08-30T09:20:00.000-07:00

So it appears that if one is a declared believer in God he (or she) is counted as faithless or maybe even a hero for expressing doubts, depending upon who you ask.

Apparantly, letters from Mother Teresa have surfaced from years ago which refer to her lack of faith, or more appropriately, crisis of faith. An article in Newsweek comes to a conclusion that Mother Teresa long stopped believing: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/20497111/site/newsweek/

For this, she is hailed as courageous for even expressing her doubts; her difficulty in believing Something she could not see.

But, some are saying, her life full of frustration and faithlessness are qualities that should prevent her from achieving sainthood. The scriptures make it abundantly clear that all who are followers of Jesus are saints, so for that, the Catholic church committee that is deciding this issue can pack sand. Mother Teresa was a saint. And so are all who believe and follow Jesus.

My question: was it still worth it, Teresa?

Only Mother Teresa would know, and, alas, she no longer is here. But considering the countless suffering people who received help and comfort from her obedience, I would say yes.

But I have a difficult time with those who point at this and other related issues as proof in the pudding that what we believe is not true, that we're just wasting our time on foolishness, etc. But faith is just that: faith. One must have faith because there isn't a difinitive tangible answer for all things. Eventually, one has to take the leap. And eventually all roads lead to the an ultimate end, which, in turn, forces us to either accept or reject it. The end question is whether one will believe in Someone who already has proven Himself and has evidence for Himself everywhere we turn.

It doesn't surprise me that Mother Teresa had her doubts. How could one in her position not have doubts while being surrounded by endless suffering and pain, yet being told by her order that she should just suck it up? I only need to look at the many examples of scripture to see that Abraham, Peter, David and countless others had doubts and fears, and even shortcomings, yet were considered heroes of the faith. Even Jesus wanted the cup of indignation to pass from Him as He prayed in the Garden before His arrest, but He submitted to the will of the Father. So if our Lord had fears, then I don't think He's too concerned when we say we're having trouble even believing in what we're doing.

I heard a song lyric from Toby McKeehen recently that really sums up what I want to be like:

"I'm letting go of everything I am.
And I'm holding on to everything you are.
I'm letting go of everything I once was.
I'm all in.
I'm falling into your arms again."

I hope that Mother Teresa eventually felt this way, because, honestly, it's all we've got when everything else seems hopeless and pointless. And considering the alternative, it's everything we need.

Bill

Aero-Phobia!

2007-08-23T13:43:00.000-07:00

It was a day like any other day.

Last Tuesday afternoon I was inside the house just taking care of business like usual when I heard a plane overhead. Then I heard a blood-curdling scream from our little guy in the backyard. I looked out the back door and saw him run from the back fence toward the house, screaming all the way. What could be the problem? Did he get bit by a spider? Did a squirrel get too close? Did he stick his hand through the fence and get bit by our neighbor's dog? He ran toward me, crying. When I picked him up he buried his face in my chest, And then he looked up at the sky, pointed and blabbered on in his 23-month-old language. I was at first confused, but then I realized: my boy is afraid of planes.

I imagined the Japanese conducting a bomb run on Pearl Harbor. "You afraid they're going to get you, boy?" I asked as I carried him into the house.

I don't know when this started. We have had numerous planes fly over our homes during my son's young life. At our old place out in the country, planes of all sorts would fly pretty low. I don't remember him being afraid when we'd run outside to see the single engine Cessna or bi-plane buzzing the powerlines. We'd even wave and at least once got a wing dip in response. But since moving back to town, where we are closer to a nearby naval station, we get all sorts of very loud aircraft fly overhead. Perhaps that's what's scared him.

But he's not afraid of helicopters. We get plenty of those, too. When one is flying nearby, Ulie waves and yells hello. Even if he hears one from inside the house, he looks up at the ceiling, waves and hollars hello. I bought him a little toy helicopter the other day, which he loves.

At any rate, when a plane flies overhead, and if Ulie is in the backyard, like today, it's like World War II all over again around here.

I think I might have to build a air raid shelter.

Bill

A travelin' man, his daughter and getting a little jumpy, perhaps

2007-08-20T12:12:00.001-07:00

Our oldest and I just returned Saturday from a quick trip to Northern California, where we ended up after driving a couple of friends going through a rough time. It was a 18-hour trip down beginning Wednesday night, and a 16-hour trip back beginning Friday night. Certainly not a fun trip but one where we all got closer together and to the Lord and learned to lean on Him more, which should be the result of going through any tough time.

Our oldest is becoming quite the prayer warrior, as that was her assignment there in the waiting area outside the courtroom. She said to me a couple of times that she didn't think she was being much help, but I told her that she was doing what God has gifted her to do, and that is pray. And prayer was much needed in that courtroom. It's a sad case all around, but we pray that God's hand will move and the right outcome will be made by the judge.

But the lack of sleep sure has made for some tension here. We got back at about 8:30 a.m., only to scarf down some food, shower and run off to work. While I got some sleep on Saturday night, I still was pretty tired and a little on edge when Sunday came and we headed off to church.

So, there we were in the McDonald's drive thru after dropping off our oldest at a horse barn where she works from time to time. We felt as if we were hit from behind. I watched the van behind us as the driver edged closer to our rear. Wham! It felt like we were hit again. I got out and said loudly, "You hit us twice!" The lady in the van, looked at me bewildered. "I did?" she asked as she peered over the dash. I got out and looked at the bumper. At least five-feet separated us. I then told the lady that it must have been something else and went back to my van. Glory and I then noticed our four-year-old in the back slamming herself back into the seat as hard as she could; just playing around. How I could mistake a 40-pound girl goofing around in the back seat with getting rear-ended is beyond me, but I did. Embarrassed, I got out again and apologized to the lady. She said no problem. I don't think I made a complete fool of myself, but getting out and telling the lady that she just hit me twice was probably a little premature.

Fortunately I got some more sleep this weekend and am ready for whatever comes our way this week. I think I will avoid the drive-thrus, however. I'm finding that I am imagining things right now.

Bill

If I Could Scoot 2,000 Miles

2007-08-14T08:59:00.001-07:00

And I have.

This morning my Honda Ruckus topped 2,000 miles on the way to work. 2,000 miles in just 14 months. It's been a lot of fun scooting around this area, to and from work mostly.

The reason for getting the 49cc scooter was to save some money. And it seems I have. I get 100 miles to the gallon. At an average of $3 per gallon over the past year, I have just had to shell out $60 for gas. That's one tankful in the van. The same 2,000 miles in the van would have cost $300. I did have to take the bike in for a tune up this spring. That bill wiped out the $240 savings we've enjoyed, but still, it has paid for itself.

Now that we live in town again, and that I am just three miles from work, there is no reason why I can't drive the Ruckus year-round and save more money, which really helps our budget-minded family.

I have earned the respect of the most grizzled Harley riders who have been impressed by my Honda's fuel efficiency. I appreciate the nods and waves of I get, but I know I'm not in their league...yet. I just wish I could go faster and look a little more menacing. While 42 mph is fun, it doesn't blow my hair back. And I probably would look stupid in leathers on that thing. And a tattoo that reads "Born to be wild," or "Mama" in a heart wouldn't look good on me either.

Perhaps a Harley is in order.

Someday.

Bill

Love of my Life

2007-08-07T14:18:00.000-07:00

I hope you feel like this, today...on top of the world! Have a wonderful Birthday, Honey!

Happy 14th Birthday!

2007-08-03T09:40:00.001-07:00

Our bloomin' sweet daughter:

Crying out to God

2007-08-02T22:53:00.000-07:00

So the bridge collapse in Minnesota last nigth has got us wondering about something.

Ever notice that whenever there is some tragedy (natural disaster, a murder or other crime against a person, or any other horrible event), people cry out to the Lord, or thank the Lord if things aren't as bad as they thought or if they barely escaped, etc?

In short, they invoke the Name of the Lord.

That's fine. That's good.

It makes me more and more certain that people do believe in God and know that He's there somewhere. For those who have experienced loss during these tragedies, I often hear and see in the media quotes to the effect of blaming or at least questioning why GOD allowed this to happen. Some might criticize such complaints, but I have had to rethink this. For me, I am encouraged that they really do know that there is a God and that He is out there somewhere. At least they are one step closer to acknowledging Him directly, which is what God wants.

I take this one step further with those who say there is no God or don't believe in Jesus or any deity for that matter. Why then, when swearing, is the name of God or Jesus invoked? Curious. When one stubs their toe on the living room coffee table, they don't say "Oh BUDDHA!!" No, it usually is a cursing with God's name or Jesus' name in it. Makes me think that in our innermost being we all know that God is out there somewhere, whether we like it or not or whether we want to believe it or not.

And while we don't understand God's ways, I believe He is looking on even those who died in Minneapolis last night. I just pray that He will give comfort to those who lost loved ones in that mess.

Bill

Border Crossings

2007-07-31T14:38:00.001-07:00

Going up to B.C. yesterday was a lot of fun. We had the pleasure of taking Glory's sister and niece back across the border so they could fly back to their home today. Our visit, though a short 24 hours, was refreshing. I like being in their presence as they encourage me in my walk with the Lord. I find that I am too serious and regimented. Where's the sweetness of the Lord? In them, I see it, and I want it, too.

Crossing into B.C. was uneventful. The border guard was professional and nice, too.

Coming back into the U.S., well, that's another matter.

I have long thought that my countrymen at the U.S./Canadian border are just a little too serious. The young border enforcement agent who greeted us at the crossing was all business. No smiles. No laughing. Nothing. Not even when he determined that, yes, we were who we said we were, and, yes, these were, in fact, our children, he asked if we were bringing anything into the U.S. The only things we bought were from Tim Hortons, so I responded accordingly.

"Just some Timbits and a cup of coffee," I told him matter-of-factly.

He paused and told us to go on our way.

When we were safely away from the guard, Glory burst out laughing, and suspected that he, despite his demeanor, was laughing, too.

Well, I answered his question, I responded.

That's not what he meant, Glory explained.

We're going back there in a couple of months when Glory heads to Saskatchewan for a week. Perhaps I can bring enough Tim Hortons to even share with the guard when he asks me what I bought in Canada.

Bill