The Timing of a Miracle

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When a commercial airliner landed on the Hudson River and all crew and passengers survived, the word “miracle” cocooned the event. And the photos of passengers standing on the aircraft’s wings, submerged just below the water surface, had a walking-on-water appearance. Reporters mentioned that the perfect timing of everything was part of the miracle.

Sometimes it’s both the out-of-this world happening and the timing that displays the workmanship of God. David Biven in “New Light on the Difficult Words of Jesus” shares his knowledge of Jewish history and everyday life, and miracle and miracle-timing are both in the story of Peter and the daytime large catch of fish from the Sea of Galilee (Luke 5:1-11).

Peter and others had fished all night without the protection of modern rubberized rain gear. Brrrr—scholars believe it was winter and inevitable that the men got wet when fishing from their small vessel and handling the net. These Galileans stopped their work at daylight because fish could see the nets in the water and avoided them. The trammel nets and their small boats were typically manned by groups of four men.

After a night of fishing the extremely large nets were washed and allowed to dry, so that the linen lines would not rot. Jesus arrived at dawn while the wrapping-up chores were being completed. Rabbis taught at every conceivable time, so Jesus sat down in Peter’s boat moored a few feet from shore and taught those workers, strollers, and early shoppers gathered at the seaside.

Casting fishermen had strong bodies from tossing the heavy nets and hauling in loads of fish in sodden nets. But when Jesus arrived it was going-home-time for these night fishermen. The weary crew was probably hungry and had just spent a night’s work for nothing. No catch. No fish. No pay.

The text says that Jesus sat in Peter’s boat and taught. How do you tell the Lord of the earth that you’re tired and you just want to eat some bread and go to sleep? I wonder if Peter cleared his throat to get Jesus’ attention. Peter apparently bided his time, and soon Jesus said to the fishermen, “Push out into the deep and let down your nets for a catch.” Were they astounded? It was daylight. Didn’t this rabbi know anything? A fishing excursion in broad daylight? With their nearly dry nets? On regular trips, the men often had to jump into the frigid water and untangle nets or scare the fish into the nets. Who wanted that cold job again?

Despite all the possible arguments against Jesus’ request, the fishermen and Peter obeyed, and when they cast the huge net, fish apparently swam blindly into it. Throughout the night, human effort had yielded zero fish. In bright sunlight in God’s timing, he herded a huge school of fish toward their net. Peter then fell at Jesus’ feet and worshiped him.

David Biven concludes that the “timing of the miracle” helped the fishermen see the hand of God working. God shows his workmanship when a star falls, when spring arrives, when a plane lands on the Hudson, when a school of fish swim into a net. Watch for the work of God. It might be highly visible, or silent, or it simply may be in the timing.

Visit Cathy at www.cathymessecar.com

How the Story of Ben-Hur Came About

February Book Winner: Congratulations to Brenda Drazkowski. Send me your physical address, Brenda, and I’ll send you either The Stained Glass Pickup or A Scrapbook of Christmas First, your choice. Can’t decide: read reviews at http://www.amazon.com/

Send an email to writecat@consolidated.net or leave a comment at blog: http://stainedglasspickup.blogspot.com/ to enter the March book contest

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Converse with 20 Christians and they will tell you 20 different ways God piqued their interest in him and encouraged their belief in Christ. One such story comes from the Civil War General Lew Wallace who authored the book Ben-Hur: A Tale of the Christ.

When a young boy, Wallace’s mother told him about the Wise Men, who searched for the King of the Jews. That story intrigued him throughout his adult years, and he eventually wrote “The First Christmas,” a fictional account of the Wise Men. He didn’t submit it for publication, but put it away. His church attendance sporadic, he confessed that his “attitude with respect to religion had been one of absolute indifference.”

He read sermons from some of the “best preachers” of his day—Bossuet, Chalmers, Robert Hall, and Henry Ward Beecher—but only “for the charm of their rhetoric.” In 1876, a “chance” meeting with atheist Colonel Robert G. Ingersoll, breached his indifference. On a train together, Ingersoll discounted believers in God, Christ and heaven with “argument, eloquence, wit, satire,” and “brilliant antitheses,” Wallace later wrote.

At his destination, General Wallace disembarked alone. Instead of taking the streetcar, he chose to walk because of his “confusion of mind.” He had no answers to any of the Colonel’s opinions. Wallace, ashamed of his ignorance, remembered the manuscript he’d written about the Wise Men searching for The Christ Child.

He decided to finish the story through to the crucifixion. He reasoned that the writing would oblige him to study the Bible and everything relevant to the event. He thought he would then possess “opinions of real value.” The book Ben-Hur: A Tale of the Christ resulted. Wallace also journeyed to a belief in Jesus, “a conviction amounting to absolute belief in God and the Divinity of Christ.”

God addresses unbelief in this statement: “I am God and there is no other; I am God and there is none like me.” He continued, “My purpose will stand; and I will do all that I please. From the east I summon a bird of prey; from a far-off land, a man to fulfill my purpose” (Isaiah 46:10-11). God knows how, when, and where to stimulate interest in himself, even through an atheist’s opinions.

The story of the Jewish prince Judah Ben-Hur and his path to belief became a stage play. The chariot race presented an obstacle to the stage production, but eventually, in the play first performed on Broadway in 1899, eight trained horses pulled chariots and ran on treadmills.

After 21 years of worldwide performances, an estimated 21 million people viewed the stage production. One historian said the play "brought millions to their feet to cheer and more millions to their knees to pray?"

Later, MGM produced the 1959 motion picture Ben-Hur, starring Charlton Heston, which won 11 of the 12 nominated Academy Awards. An animated version, featuring the voice of Charlton Heston, and I watched the DVD with my young grandsons.

During the movie, we talked of ancient Roman rule and Rome, Italy today, and in a lighter moment, I explained the difference between leopards and lepers. They asked questions about Jerusalem culture and questions about God. They showed empathy for the sick and oppressed. Those special moments are treasures for me. And they had their beginnings in Civil War General Lew Wallace’s journey—a journey to The Christ.

(Suggested family activity leading up to Easter: Watch the movie Ben-Hur.)

Visit Cathy at http://www.cathymessecar.com/

Fasting From Clamor

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FASTING

I’ve heard if the devil can’t make you bad, he’ll make you busy. During this season of traditional fasting, Ash Wednesday to Easter, I want to fast from junk mail. Sometimes I feel like a tree landed on my home, only it descended in sheets of paper.

Catalogs, credit card applications, political brochures—reams of paper are toted into our home after passing through our mailbox. Perhaps, someone will invent a mailbox with a shredder. Even pricey, I might invest in one.

But junk mail isn’t the only culprit that crowds taxed schedules. Busyness is sometimes self-inflicted when overdoses of entertainment is preferred to productive work or rest. A television, telephone, or a computer has a place in life, but over indulgence can become addictive.

A health and science Web site reports the average household has a television on 6 hours and 47 minutes, and that 66% of families watch television and eat dinner. Annually, a staggering 260 billion hours of TV is watched by Americans.

During Lent many people of faith are fasting, but not all are fasting from food. At the first semester of seminary, a professor asks his students to fast from media for one week. Another professor/mentor recommended that a female student fast from dating for three months. She found that she had time to focus on studies and life direction. She then quarantined herself from dating for an additional three months.

In Lauren F. Winner’s book Mudhouse Sabbath, she tells how she fasted from reading during Lent. Fasting isn’t just denial; it has a purpose. Ms. Winner wrote, “We give up something for Lent to align ourselves with the heart, will, and experience of Jesus.”

Ms. Winner said, “Fasting teaches us that we are not utterly subject to our bodily desires. And in sated and overfed America, fasting reminds us, sharply, of the poor.” Fasting is like walking a tightrope where imbalance is really noticed. For many, denial of self is foreign, but God calls followers to contemplation, meditation, solitude, silence and abstinence, especially in this directive, “Be still and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:10).

Lauren Winner also says about fasting, “It is a necessary tool for rousing us from our day-to-day sleepwalking.” Are we trudging in the trench the world has carved out? Are we in a stupor from cultural demands? Do we feel compelled to answer each time the planet rings our doorbell?

Until Easter, I encourage you to find some way to fast from the clamor. Be quiet. Be still. Know God.

Vist Cathy at www.cathymessecar.com

Jiggles

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JJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJiggles

How do you react when things go awry? I’m asking about those times when small things happen, not the tragic things in life. What if you lock your keys in the car? Or a glass of milk spills?

If you’re breathing, annoyances happen with certain regularity. This past Sunday morning, my very old hair dryer gave up the ghost, and I was rushing to be on time. Showered and dressed, the finishing touch was to style my hair. That’s when the dryer puffed a few feeble breaths and killed over. I didn’t have a spare. Or spare minutes.

I turned on the overhead bathroom heater and stood underneath with a hand towel and style brush, hoping to get my short hair to a level of damp instead of drippy. When my husband checked on my getting-ready-for-church progress, he solved my problem.

He held a small space heater close to my hair and let the heat do its work. The style was a bit askew, but I was very grateful for my short cropped hair and thoughtful husband.

I remember having a conversation with one of my children about living above small aggravations, about how Christians could react. Throughout life, our days will get jiggled. That’s a good name for small annoyances – jiggles. Sometimes jiggles are easily taken in stride, if no other pressures coincide with them. But many times jiggles hop onto our days when the days are already full of confusion, and then we add our own explosion.

Since we can expect jiggles in future days, why not plan how to react. Nearly all of us (you saints excluded) have responded in typical ways: shoving or kicking an object, swearing or grousing.

Better reaction plans involve replacement. Plan what you will do or say next time a jiggle knocks on your day. One thing that works is to decide on a positive statement that can be said instead of venting frustrations. Of course, coworkers might wonder what is going on when a four pound box drops on your foot and you say, “Blessed be the name of the Lord.” But it’s a superior alternative to hearing a person swear under their breath.

No one can live a perfect life and react with constant pleasantness when the unexpected happens but planning a reaction is very worthwhile, because the plan will work most of the time. Children watch and learn from adults and can become skilled in their reactions when their own jiggles come calling.

Responding to annoyances with scripture phrases from the Psalms is one calming way to address life-hassles. Try saying these words next time a jiggle occurs: “Make your face shine upon your servant” (119:135), “Great peace have those who love your law, and nothing can make them stumble” (119:165). Or perhaps you’d prefer more familiar words that can restore your soul, “He leads me beside quiet waters” (23:2).

Have a good week, and may it be jiggle-free.

Visit Cathy at http://www.cathymessecar.com/

Pressure Cookers

As usual, send an email to writecat@consolidated.net or comment here for your name to be entered into a drawing for a book The Stained Glass Pickup or A Scrapbook of Christmas Firsts.

Happy Valentines Day. This is a photo of a native Texas flower called Turk's Cap. It grows into a large bush if given plenty of room and is covered throughout the spring and summer with eye catching red flowers, petals swirling upward. I have some at my old house and plan to get a start at the new house, too. They're fun and came from a dear writer friend, Morna Smith, who has given me lots of cuttings from native Texas plants.

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Love is in the air. Tomorrow is February 14, Valentines Day, and I remembered a gift my sweetheart and I received from relatives before our marriage. An aunt and uncle gave us a pressure cooker, one that will cook a beef stew in about eight minutes and raw vegetables in two to five minutes.

I doubt that many new brides receive pressure cookers these days. I wanted my daughter, who has a young family, to get one to save her time, but she feared the contraption. She’d heard a few horror stories of misuses and mishaps, of dinner sliding down kitchen walls.

The basic parts of a pressurized cooker are a pot, a lid with twist and lock design and a synthetic seal. The lid has a pencil size pointed vent where a weight sits, letting steam periodically escape. Mine has an extra vent. If the pot is forgotten, that vent will open instead of letting the built up steam blow off the lid.

Occasionally a cook wanders away from the kitchen and can’t hear the “jiggle” sound, the dance between the pressured steam and the weight. One friend recalled a day when she soaked beans, put them into her pressure cooker, and then turned the flame on high and walked outside to see about her kiddos. Soon, she was pushing them on their swings, catching them as they used the slide, and pulling weeds from the flowerbed.

While distracted, she heard a big thump inside her home and ran in to see the pressure lid on the floor and beans impaled on the textured sealing. Gravity helped with the cleanup. She refers to the mini-explosion as the day it “rained pinto beans.”

In February, frilly red hearts, chocolate, and roses represent love, but a marriage has a whole lot of plain days when it’s more like a pressure cooker. A marriage is mortgages, Mondays, mini-people, and morning coffee, stirred by a wife and husband with different backgrounds and personalities.

The best Valentines gift to a spouse, parents, children, bosses, and coworkers is to commit the apostle Paul’s love instructions in 1 Corinthians 13 to memory and practice them every day. The positives he mentions are “Love is patient, love is kind.”

Then Paul lists what is absent when love is present: “It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.”

Finally, Paul lists the “always” aspects of love, the do and do not results: “It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.”

This Valentines Day, bake cookies, share candy and flowers, or pull out the old pressure cooker and make a special meal for those you love. To add the best ingredient to any relationship, practice perfect love. This, “Love never fails” (13:8).

Visit Cathy at http://www.cathymessecar.com/

January Book Drawing Winner: Mary Ellen C.
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As usual, send an email to writecat@consolidated.net or comment at http://stainedglasspickup.blogspot.com/ for your name to be entered into a drawing for a book The Stained Glass Pickup or A Scrapbook of Christmas Firsts.

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Tumbleweeds

I know the folk in West Texas thought we were fools. And we resembled the remark.
On a pleasure trip in our pickup truck to the mostly flat side of Texas, I became fascinated with tumbleweeds. Sort of like the first time you see a rare bird. And some of the tumbleweeds did flit close to the earth.
Intrigued, I asked my husband, David, if we could take a load of tumbleweeds home. Earlier, a friend mentioned that they decorated a scrawny tumbleweed for Christmas. That sounded whimsical, like fun.
If I remember correctly, Dave balked just a little about my suggested cargo. After all, he would be driving the load through miles of curious, guffawing onlookers, who surely deemed the weeds debris.
If course tumbleweeds cross the road in front of a low slung sports car, they can scratch paint, damage the undercarriage or grate over hoods. They can even get tangled in moving parts and break air hoses underneath trucks.
On that day when I made my bizarre request, Dave said yes. He kindly caved to my insane want. We stopped along a roadside where a fence had corralled a good number of the cumbersome bushes. A few ranchers and locals did slow their vehicles to gawk as we harvested tumbleweeds.
The Seattle Times, in 2001, reported on weeds whose taproots absorbed radiation on the Hanover Nuclear Reservation, contaminating the plant before they became separated and roving. On a search and destroy mission, crews were sent out to test for “glowing” tumbleweeds.
A variety of plants have the “habit” of breaking away from their roots and traveling. In fact “tumbleweed” doesn’t describe a specific plant but a habit of such plants that separate from their root system and then roll about. When plants separate from their root system, they lose their source of nourishment, air currents have their way with them, and they are blown about by every sort of wind.
I couldn’t think of a creative way to use all my tumbleweeds, so most of them were burned with the fall leaves on a tranquil day. But other folk have found ways to profit from these weeds. The Prairie Tumbleweed Farm in Kansas has turned the Russian thistle, which arrived here in imported grain years ago, into a booming business. Some of their tumbleweeds are four times as big as a person, and they sell them around the world to enhance western movies, theme parks, businesses, and homes. Wedding planners know where to go to authenticate settings for a cowboy to marry a cowgirl.
Asaph the psalmist made a complaint about those who formed an “alliance against you, O God” (83:5), and he further asked, “Make them like tumbleweed, O my God” (vs. 13). Asaph knew that when people move away from their source of goodness that they dry up, that they can do much damage, and that they will be consumed by the harsh elements they’re exposed to as they wander here and there.
For most audiences, the consensus is that tumbleweeds are up to no good. They’ve lost their mooring, their grounding. When they break away from their place of sprouting, that’s when they become wobbly and unstable – that’s when the winds from the north, south, west or east shove them around.
Old western song lyrics describe how a lot of folks live, “Drifting along with a tumbling tumbleweed.” But, I prefer the words and freedom from other psalm lyrics, “I hold fast to your statutes, O LORD . . .. I run in the path of your commands, for you have set my heart free.” (119:31-32).

The Lost Son

Whew! Can you believe January is almost over? For some of us it’s probably dragged out like a bad cough, for others it’s zoomed along like sneeze. Pass the Kleenex, it’s been a sneezy month for me. Where did the days go? Why haven’t I accomplished the things on my January list? I don’t have an answer but I know like Jacob and Joseph I’m smack dab in the middle of God’s plan for my life. And I will move forward in slow motion or in a trot. We’re winding up the story of Jacob and Joseph this week. May God bless you as you contemplate these two dear men, who trusted God to guide their days.

As usual, leave a comment here or send an email to writecat@consolidated.net to have your name entered into the January book drawing.

The Lost Son Restored

The bustle in a house / The morning after death / Is solemnest of industries / Enacted upon earth, / -The sweeping up the heart, / And putting love away / We shall not want to use again / Until eternity.- Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)


In the Old Testament saga, dear old Jacob has thought for decades that his son Joseph is dead. One woman described losing someone to death as having a literal hole in her body. She pointed to her mid-section and said, “I can tell you where it’s at. It’s here.”

In this last installment, the patriarch Jacob who is father to 12 sons will display amazing faith in risking two more sons’ lives to spare his entire clan, but Jacob will receive a surprise ending.

Earlier, ten sons sold their brother Joseph into slavery, deceiving their father Jacob by making him believe Joseph was dead. But Joseph is very much alive, and through the years, God unfettered Joseph’s chains, and Joseph has risen next in command to the Pharaoh of Egypt.

With seven years of a bumper crop and then seven years of famine predicted, Joseph has stored up “beyond measure” amounts of food in Egyptian warehouses. When the famine finally hit, patriarch Jacob sends 10 sons into Egypt to buy grain. There, unfolding events will reveal their sordid past deeds.

When the brothers see the man next in command to Pharaoh, they fail to recognize family traits in his face. However, Joseph knows they are his brothers, but he hides his identity and emotions. After inquiring about their family, he discovers his very old father is still alive. Through a series of arranged tests, Joseph makes his brothers vow to bring youngest brother Benjamin to Egypt when they return for grain.

As a guarantee, Joseph detains his brother Simeon. So, nine brothers arrive in their homeland with news that Simeon is imprisoned, and when they return to Egypt, they’re to bring the youngest son Benjamin or they cannot buy more grain.

Soon, out of grain, starvation threatens Jacob’s large family. After much heart wrenching, Jacob stamps Benjamin’s passport saying, “May God Almighty grant you mercy….As for me, if I am bereaved, I am bereaved” (43:14).

Jacob is at a low point in life—a severe famine threatens lives, one son is presumed dead, one is detained in prison, and he now has to send off his baby boy. Relying on the Almighty, Jacob makes a tough decision. Jacob expects more heartache, but God plans a different ending.

Years ago, Jacob’s loss of Joseph left a huge gap in his life. Jacob will soon need that stowed-away love. In compassion, God will allow father and son, to embrace again. This Genesis history is not really about patriarchs and lost sons, it’s really a story about God who is righter-of-wrongs. He can shatter misery. After all he knows that one day he will give up a son to save families, too.

Have any of you had any spy ware sneak into your computer? I did and my computer was in the shop last week, so I didn’t get to send out my column. Today, you’re getting a double installment in the Jacob and Joseph saga, and next week, we’ll wrap up this series with thoughts about staying on God’s path and how God restores what was lost—it’s a recurring theme with God’s people.

As usual, send an email to writecat@consolidated.net or comment here for your name to be entered into a drawing for a book The Stained Glass Pickup or A Scrapbook of Christmas Firsts.


NEWSPAPER COLUMN From JANUARY 16

“When it rains it pours” is an old saying meaning when Trouble arrives it’s followed by its kin Double Trouble. That’s probably what the young Joseph felt when his brothers sold him into slavery, and his life went from pleasant to punishing. A Psalmist later wrote about Joseph, “They bruised his feet with shackles, and his neck was put in irons” (105:18).


Last week, we left the Old Testament patriarch Jacob absorbing tragic news: His ten oldest sons had sold Joseph, and then they deceived Jacob into thinking that his beloved 17 year old Joseph had been mauled by a wild animal and killed.

Chained, Joseph was headed for Egypt’s auction block. Did he feel abandoned? Large question marks must have punctuated every thought. What will become of me? Will I die soon? Will I be beaten? Will I ever see my family again? Where is God? Does he see? Does he know? His questions may be similar to what many ask today.

We’ve read the end of the story and know that God’s long range plan was unfolding. But Joseph is in the middle of the script, the live actor and he has no way to flip the pages to read the pleasant ending -- of being reunited with family and of becoming God’s hero who helped to save millions from starvation. But even in the middle of his miserable journey, Joseph is smack dab in the heart of God’s plan.

But the monsoons are coming, and he will go through some really muddy places before he sees positive results. However, throughout the biblical account of Joseph’s lonely sojourn away from his family, there are several compassionate descriptions of God and his constancy with Joseph: “The LORD was with Joseph and he prospered” (Genesis 39:2); “. . . the LORD was with him . . . and the LORD gave him success in everything he did” (39:3).

God’s generously granted wisdom to the young man and a definite pattern formed in his life. Even away from hands-on parental guidance, Joseph behaved honorably. Potiphar bought him, eventually giving him management over all his household and business. God blessed all the enslaved Joseph did, and the grace received by Joseph splashed onto all of Potiphar’s holdings, increasing his wealth.

We’ve all seen enough weather and life patterns to know that just behind the sunny days, the cloudy ones gather. Just when God and Joseph niched out a place in Potiphar’s trust, the lustful wife of Potiphar enters the stage.
Joseph was apparently “well built and handsome” (Genesis 39:6) Yes, the Bible says Joseph was, in today’s vernacular, a hunk. Mrs. Potiphar grew fond of Joseph in a very unhealthy way, and repeatedly sought him out. Joseph kept evading her, but one day, he ran out of her presence so hurriedly that she grabbed his cloak.

When Potiphar came home, Mrs. Potiphar fabricated a story about Joseph and an attempted assault. Falsely accused, Joseph got tossed to the bottom rung of life again. He ended up in a dungeon with royal prisoners. Again Joseph is faced with seemingly impossible circumstances, but dungeons don’t deter deity.

God repeated his efforts of blessing Joseph with wisdom, and soon the jailer put Joseph in charge of prison facilities, and there “the LORD was with him; he showed him kindness and granted him favor in the eyes of the prison warden” (39:21). The text says the warden didn’t pay attention to anything under Joseph’s care. That’s how good he was at managing. Joseph may be unhappy, but the warden now had free time to go Nile-fishing. Some days bring gloom. Some days bring brightness.

Joseph’s story speaks to paying attention on both rainy days and sunny days. A wise saying from future King Solomon addresses such. And it’s still good advice whether windshield wipers or sunshades are needed: “On a good day enjoy yourself; on a bad day, examine your conscience. God arranges for both kinds of days so that we won’t take anything for granted” (Ecclesiastes 7:14).

NEWSPAPER COLUMN FOR JANUARY 23, 2009

We re-visit Joseph’s story during a very tough personal time for him. Within a decade or so, more hard times will fall upon his homeland and Egypt. Joseph is still awaking in a prison each day. Although, he’s gained favor with the warden and is in a trusted position, there’s nothing appealing about being locked away from society, about staring at the same limited scenery day after day.

Joseph doesn’t know it but he is about to be set free. Some of his cell mates are the king’s former cupbearer and baker, and Joseph’s sensitivity to others shows when he asks them, “Why are your faces so sad today?”

The night before, both had significant dreams, dreams which begged to be interpreted. Joseph asked to hear their dreams, and assisted by God, he correctly determined the meanings.

Eventually, the poor baker was hanged and the fortunate cupbearer was restored to his position of honor. Before he left the confines of the dungeon, Joseph requested a favor from the wine taster, “Show me kindness; mention me to Pharaoh and get me out of this prison” (40:14).

“The chief cupbearer, however, did not remember Joseph; he forgot him” (Genesis 40:23). Two full years passed. That’s a long time to be morally obligated to Joseph and to forget his ally.

God then sent double dreams to the Pharaoh. In one he saw seven gaunt cows eat seven fat cows, and in the other he watched as seven blighted heads of grain ate seven healthy full heads.

Troubled, the Pharaoh asked his magicians and wise men the meaning of his dreams. I suspect they were more than intimidated by His Majesty’s request. After all, he could hang or knight you. No one even tried to conjure up the meaning.

The need prompted the cupbearer’s memory, “Today I am reminded of my shortcomings.” He even went so far as to remind the king why he’d been imprisoned and explained how Joseph, the dungeon keeper, had correctly interpreted his dream. I’m starting to warm up to this cupbearer, this righter of wrongs.

Joseph was summoned and after he had shaved and put on clean clothes, he came before Pharaoh. Still giving credit to God, he told how the land of Egypt would be blessed with seven years of bounty followed by seven years of severe famine. He advised that a discerning man be employed to head up a mighty storage effort during the years of plenty.

Pharaoh recognized the “spirit of God” was in Joseph and appointed him over everything in the land except the throne. Within a few hours, God culminated Joseph’s pitiable years of mistreatment into a top political position, from dungeon director to officiating next to Pharaoh.

Improbable outcomes seem to be God’s specialty. Our dreams in his capable hands can turn into reality. Dare to dream and pray big this year: “For nothing is impossible with God” (Luke 1:37).
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Books for the Road--Rest: Living in Sabbath Simplicity
Resting on the seventh day doesn’t fit neatly into our busy lives, but Keri Wyatt Kent provides functional advice to help pause and refresh even the busiest life overrun with demanding jobs, countless kids’ activities and getting dinner on the table. Kent combines her own life experiences as a soccer mom with her study of the ancient practice of resting one day of the week, known as the Sabbath, in her new book Rest: Living in Sabbath Simplicity (Zondervan, January 2009). She invites readers to rediscover the practice of Sabbath in a practical and accessible format.


Kent bases her study on Jesus’ teachings and actions and explores six aspects of Christian spiritual practice that lead to Sabbath Simplicity: resting, reconnecting, revising, pausing, playing and praying. Practicing these six actions creates space in our lives for rest and renewal.


When asked what is Sabbath, its purpose and what do you mean by Sabbath Simplicity, Kent answered:

"Sabbath, first and foremost, is a gift from our loving God. He invites us to take a day to rest from our labor, so that we might engage in relationship with him and with others. Its purpose is to refresh us physically and spiritually, to celebrate our freedom, to draw us close to God, and yet to remind us that we are not God.

"God commanded us to Sabbath, to stop. But Sabbath-keeping is also a spiritual practice or discipline. All disciplines, (like prayer, solitude, etc.) create some space for God in our lives. Just as we have a lot of latitude in other practices (we can pray any number of ways, for example), we have freedom in how we practice Sabbath. My book offers a lot of ideas, and real-life examples, of how to approach this life-giving practice.


"Sabbath Simplicity is a sanely-paced, God-focused life. It’s a lifestyle that includes the practice of Sabbath-keeping, but goes beyond just taking a day off. In a way, it’s living out what Jesus told us to do in Matthew 6:33: Seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Sabbath Simplicity seeks God first."


So if you are looking for a take-along book that will touch your spiritual senses, try Rest: Living in Sabbath Simplicity.

God's Road Map for Jacob

A note to readers: We moved two weeks before Christmas, so it's been a blessed and hectic past month including caring for our four parents, the book launch, writing columns, running our business, children and grands, cleaning out old house and getting ready for remodeling to use as rent house -- a good stir of many things and God's grace splashed over all of it.

I said all of that to offer an apology for not posting here or mailing out my newsletter, but I'm back!

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DECEMBER BOOK WINNER: Connie L. is the winner of either A Scrapbook of Christmas Firsts or The Stained Glass Pickup. Send me a note with your mailing address and I'll get either of those books in the mail to you.

Same as 2008, send me a note or leave a comment here and your name will be entered to win a book, monthly drawing.
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New beginnings are like new cars all wrapped up in intoxicating leathery smell. But this January, hope may be in the back seat of your old jalopy. If so, you may enjoy taking a peek at an Old Testament family and the twists and turns in their lives and how God’s direction helped them overcome all kinds of obstacles: drought, hurt because of wrong doing, riffs between kin, dire news, and much more.

For the next few weeks, we’ll look at the family of Jacob who was Dad to 12 boys. Number 11 son, Joseph, was favored above the rest “because he had been born to him in his old age” (37:3). Dad Jacob seemed to coddle Joseph, and when he was a teen, he was presented with a richly ornamented robe, maybe the equivalent of a new car in our day.

Joseph turned out to be one of those dream-tellers. Do you know a person who does that? They can remember what they dreamed months ago. I can’t remember rolling over last night, much less the weird cranial scamperings going on while I slept.

But this 17 year old Joseph could recall certain dreams with clarity, and he wasn’t only a dream re-caller, he was a dream re-teller. The trouble -- the dreams he remembered were about him lording it over the rest of his family. In one, he and all his brothers are binding grain in a field, and the brothers’ sheaves bow down to Joseph’s sheaf. The older males scoffed when hearing that one.

And Joseph had another dream where the sun, moon, and eleven stars bowed down to him. He even ruined Daddy’s meal when he described that at the dinner table. None could imagine the pipsqueak of the family with any fame. They had no wisdom that Joseph’s dreams were prophetic, early messages which no one would understand until much later.

Brotherly love long gone, one day the brood of older brothers sold their teenage sibling into slavery, to a caravan of Midianite merchants journeying into Egypt. Joseph’s pampering ended that day. But little known to all, God held the future map in his hand. He had routed the path. Joseph would later rule in this foreign country and help save his clan and many others.

Even though the end of this story is eventually beautiful, there’s a camel load of heartache along the route. Can you imagine the wrinkled Jacob’s face when the ten older sons show him Joseph’s gorgeous coat soaked in goat’s blood? They allowed their father to believe a wild animal had mauled Joseph and torn him to pieces.

This is terrible place to halt this epic, a real cliffhanger. The twig on the precipice has broken and Joseph will hit a few more rocks on the way down.

We leave Jacob and Joseph, daddy and son, mourning a lost relationship, but God is there with them. He is also in the days ahead when his plan unfolds to reunite an entire family and move them into a spacious saving place.

God is more adept than any, a master of helping us maneuver bumpy roads, and when the time is right he will guide us into a good U-turn, one that restores our feet to a new beginning.

God's Roadmap Jacob

New beginnings are like new cars all wrapped in intoxicating leathery smell. But this January, hope may be in the back seat of your old jalopy. If so, you may enjoy taking a peek at an Old Testament family and the twists and turns in their lives and how God’s direction helped them overcome all kinds of obstacles: drought, hurt because of wrong doing, riffs between kin, dire news, and much more.

For the next few weeks, we’ll look at the family of Jacob who was Dad to 12 boys. Number 11 son, Joseph, was favored above the rest “because he had been born to him in his old age” (37:3). Dad Jacob seemed to coddle Joseph, and when he was a teen, he was presented with a richly ornamented robe, maybe the equivalent of a new car in our day.

Joseph turned out to be one of those dream-tellers. Do you know a person who does that? They can remember what they dreamed months ago. I can’t remember rolling over last night, much less the weird cranial scamperings going on while I slept.

But this 17 year old Joseph could recall certain dreams with clarity, and he wasn’t only a dream re-caller, he was a dream re-teller. The trouble -- the dreams he remembered were about him lording it over the rest of his family. In one, he and all his brothers are binding grain in a field, and the brothers’ sheaves bow down to Joseph’s sheaf. The older males scoffed when hearing that one.

And Joseph had another dream where the sun, moon, and eleven stars bowed down to him. He even ruined Daddy’s meal when he described that at the dinner table. None could imagine the pipsqueak of the family with any fame. They had no wisdom that Joseph’s dreams were prophetic, early messages which no one would understand until much later.

Brotherly love long gone, one day the brood of older brothers sold their teenage sibling into slavery, to a caravan of Midianite merchants journeying into Egypt. Joseph’s pampering ended that day. But little known to all, God held the future map in his hand. He had routed the path. Joseph would later rule in this foreign country and help save his clan and many others.

Even though the end of this story is eventually beautiful, there’s a camel load of heartache along the route. Can you imagine the wrinkled Jacob’s face when the ten older sons show him Joseph’s gorgeous coat soaked in goat’s blood? They allowed their father to believe a wild animal had mauled Joseph and torn him to pieces.

This is terrible place to halt this epic, a real cliffhanger. The twig on the precipice has broken and Joseph will hit a few more rocks on the way down.

We leave Jacob and Joseph, daddy and son, mourning a lost relationship, but God is there with them. He is also in the days ahead when his plan unfolds to reunite an entire family and move them into a spacious saving place.

God is more adept than any, a master of helping us maneuver bumpy roads, and when the time is right he will guide us into a good U-turn, one that restores our feet to a new beginning.

Visit Cathy at http://stainedglasspickup.blogspot.com/

Winner Gifts for Friends

The November winner of A Scrapbook of Christmas Firsts is Lois Chapman from Texas. Her copy will be in the mail on Monday. Check out our website
www.christmas-scrapbook.info or the blog at http://scrapbookofchristmasfirsts.blogspot.com. To order ether The Stained Glass Pickup or the Christmas book, contact me writecat@consolidated.net

As usual, send an email to writecat@consolidated.net or leave a comment here to be entered into the December drawing.
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Friends are the best. What do you gift your friends during the holidays? When I was in elementary school, I had five close friends, and we spent our allowances at the five and dime store on Christmas gifts for each other. My allowance was 25 cents a week, upped to 50 cents by the time I was in junior high. I still have a teddy bear given to me by my childhood friend, Sharon.

Now, instead of holiday gifts, we stay in touch, especially for milestone events in each others’ lives. We even had a slumber party one time and that renewal of friendships was much better than exchanging gifts.

After I married and moved to Montgomery County, I met more friends, who lived in my community. One of them is Doris A. She knows all my weird habits and still loves me. I can confide in her and know that my words will not tie on traveling shoes. Doris knows my everyday schedule and looks out for me. She’s made cornbread dressing for our holiday meal when I was in a bind, babysat my children, and shopped for mother of the bride dresses, and we’ve used up a million miles of telephone wire.

She’s given me Christmas gifts throughout the last three decades, but none are more precious than her acts of kindness, sharing recipes, and offering writing critiques. She’s read all my manuscripts, and I didn’t coerce her, she asked! Our friendship is blessed because we know what is going on in each of our lives, and we know how to stand back or step in to help.

If you really want to bless your friends’ lives this season, think of a unique act of charity that you can do for them. I’m reminded of the seashore scene after Jesus’ resurrection (John 21). Beside the surf, he built a fire and had sea catch roasting, and when his weary fishermen friends returned from a long night at the nets, Jesus said, “Come and have breakfast.” The fresh scent of misty dawn, briny air, and roasting fish drew his friends to a breakfast cooked by God’s own hand, as pleasant as the morning sun he caused to rise.

Author Emilie Barnes tells about a time when one of her friends was very blue and needed an outdoor time of refreshing. An indoor meal just wouldn’t do. Sometimes there’s just too many plastic and artificial things indoor.
Emilie prepared a thermos of hot tea and light refreshments and arranged to drive her friend to a nearby park, where they chatted, sipped tea, and tossed cares to the wind.

Several years ago when I contemplated what I could get my friend Doris for the holidays, nothing came to my mind that quite suited her needs. I could have bought her another cookbook or costume jewelry or a pair of those really furry, warm house-socks, for her barefoot habit. But doodads seemed frivolous that year because she’d been caring for a very ill family member.

That particular Christmas she was pressed for time, like no other, while mine remained peaceful that year. Like most families, her husband and sons, Richard, Jason, Lee and Chris, enjoy pies. She usually baked their favorites for the holidays -- caramel, vanilla custard, pumpkin, and cherry. Early that December, I bought aluminum pie plates, and one day I pulled out my best recipe for pie dough and got busy with the rolling pin and pastry mat.

Within an hour, I had unbaked pie crusts in pans, fluted around the edges, and ready to freeze. A few days later, I phoned Doris and told her I was bringing her Christmas present early. To this day, she says the frozen, ready-to-use pie crusts were the best gift so far.

Whether you have money to buy a gift or not, this year, point the gift of labor at a friend’s need, and you’ll come up with a winner-gift and a winning smile from your friend.

Visit Cathy at www.cathymessecar.com

The High Cost of Money

In a few days, I’ll draw a name to win a copy of one of my books, The Stained Glass Pickup or A Scrapbook of Christmas Firsts. Send an email to writecat@consoldated.net or leave a comment here for the November drawing.
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Roots are showing. No. Not dark roots on a bleached blond. The roots I’m thinking about sprout from a love of money. Although misquoted often in modern times, Paul wrote to the young preacher Timothy that, “The love of money is a root for all kinds of evil” (1 Timothy 6:10).

Throughout the ages, that prolific love-of-money root has produced a variety of heartaches and misery. And the results aren’t so pretty. Friends bring me a flowering branch and tell me, “Oh, just stick it in some water-it’ll grow roots.” The love of money doesn’t even need a friendly environment to re-shape itself into very large global problems.

Try this experiment -- watch any newscast and see how many wrongs happen because someone adores money. Of course we can’t assume motivations behind criminal activity, but it’s pretty obvious in some cases that love of money effects harm, such as in drug cartels. It seems they have forgotten the damage and human suffering, and their goal is to get the drugs on the street and pocket the money.

Anyone who has money is subject to temptation. Gum chewing clerk or CEO can both fall prey to the talons of the fleeting dollar. Men and women, boys and girls can have wholesome hearts about money or be filled with greed. We’re all somewhere in the cash register between those two extremes.

Here’s a question to consider: Living in the economy of today, what if the only cash you had was two pennies? What would your attitude be toward your two cents? “I’m down to my last two cents” would certainly express relevancy.

When Jesus watched the widow walk toward the temple collection box, he didn’t need to see a bank statement to assess her worth. He knew that the two coins she had were the only two she possessed. She was down to an equivalent in our economy of two pennies, nearly nothing. She didn’t trust the two coins to absolve her poverty. She had lavish trust in God and left the details of her life fully in his hands. She didn’t love her two coins.

Jesus said about her fearless heart that she had given all “she had to live on.” To have that kind of faith in God’s care and his storehouse of provisions must be freeing, very freeing from a love of money.

I brought up the subject of money today because many will be spending it. Today is often referred to as “Black Friday” because this is when many retail stores begin to show a profit. The love of money has a huge price tag. Don’t pay it. Ralph Waldo Emerson knew the consequences because he said, “Money often costs too much.”


www.cathymessecar.com

When the "I" is Mssng

Leave a comment at blog or email me to have your name entered into a drawing for a copy of The Stained Glass Pickup or A Scrapbook of Christmas Firsts ~ Stories to Warm Your Heart and Tips to Simplify Your Holiday
If you don’t feel lucky, email me to order some ;-)
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With the Thanksgiving holiday approaching, I’d been praying and thinking of what to write in this column, and when I finally sat down at my computer to coax, wrangle, and create a column, a lesson occurred for me. After doing a bit of research online about the first Thanksgiving proclamation, I noticed that the “I” on my keyboard was not working. Do you know how many times an “I” is needed in a 500 word column?

If you keep reading, you’ll see what I worked out to get the “I” in the next few words. Since Hurricane Ike, my desk computer has not connected to the internet with any regularity or predictability. Of course nowadays, writers push a button and send off columns instead of handing in a hardcopy to an editor. Anyway, my wireless laptop has taken up the slack and has served me well these past few months, until today.

Home repairs sometimes work, so I flipped the plastic cover off the key that read “I”. Underneath, a tiny world existed that I knew nothing about and I saw a miniscule rubber cup lying on its side. It looked like the little cup should be turned upside down over the electronic circuit. Also, broken loose from the inside of the teensy cup was a piece of plastic two times larger than a grain of salt. I surmised that that gadget was what was supposed to touch the circuit and let it know that I wanted an “I” in a word.

I thought I might be able to put it back together, but by then other little pieces had come loose under the key pad, too. I didn’t know which tiny part went where. So, I flipped the cover off the “o” and promptly upset the tiny rubber cup under it. I did have the good sense to stop pulling off key covers. I know when I’ve been outwitted. I know when it’s time to get to the computer geeks, who can undo my home “repairs.”

So, I’ve written each “I” and “o” with the key covers off and by making sure the tiny rubber cups are over the circuit board and pressing ever so lightly on them, but they have a mind of their own and often bounce down to the spacebar or visit their neighbor “m”.

You can’t imagine how many times I’ve wanted to shout to Vanna White, “I’d like to buy a vowel. Give me an ‘I’. I’d like to buy anther vowel. Give me an ‘o’.” But still, I’m thankful for the other 24 letters of the alphabet who have behaved very well.

The thanksgiving point in all of this relates to the story Jesus told abut the ten lepers he healed. They all went away ecstatic, but only one got “I” out of the way and returned to say thank you to the source of blessing. When we quit focusing on “I” needs, it is easier to see all the bounty and good workings in the other 24 plus good thing in life.

Happy Thankgvng!

Packrats and Clutterbugs

I didn’t think I was a packrat. Recently though, at the back of closets, I discovered bits and pieces of the past in packets tied with string, banded boxes, and slightly rusted tins. In November, I usually write a column on pies, family and stuff. That column about holiday pastries -- making, eating, and enjoying them -- will come in the next week or so. This one is about stuff. So, Packrats, be warned.

We’re getting ready to move into a “downsized” home. The one we’re living in is not extravagant in square footage, but it’s comfortable. Now it’s time to undo over 20 years of living at this address. I don’t mind giving away plastic containers, extra clothes hangers, and glass jars, but other items might as well be shelved in my heart. While sorting items into piles for garage sale, family members, the trash, or the new farmhouse, I found a small cardboard jewelry box.

Inside were movie tickets and one of those photos taken in a booth, long ago, in the dating years. Inside the lid of this small box was this inscription, “Date to remember, September 19, 1965.” The whole box and contents would have been tossed by a junk dealer. I showed it to my hubby, causing us to reminisce.

One wouldn’t think that cleaning out house cubby holes involved so many emotions, but it does. Guilt assaults, if I throw away a tea pot, broken and no longer holding high teas — because it was a gift. I read a note from a friend who passed, and tears brimmed. Laughter bubbled when I saw funny photos of Halloween costumes.

This is a job I’d rather have delayed indefinitely, however my husband, David, and I made a firm decision to not only downsize the house but contents, too. Abundance doesn’t equal happiness. Clutter doesn’t equal coziness, it just equals clutter.

In the future, hubby and I want to have time for each other, not store and live with long defunct paperwork. We want to walk in the woods with the grandchildren, not mop more floors or dust more baubles. We want to dine with friends, not mow more acreage. We want to meet new people, not hang onto old stuff.

Jesus, who had few material possessions said, “Watch out! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; a man's life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions” (Luke 12:15).

We can even be greedy about clutter. Packrats, the kind with two legs, go through your home before Thanksgiving, lay out all the things you think family could use. Let them free-shop at your house after the Turkey dinner. A niece might love that old cracked hand mirror of Aunt Irene’s or maybe not.

That tiny box with the date inscription, we’re holding onto -- it’s the date of our first kiss.

Disappointments

My Grandma Ethel and Grandpa Willie Dudley Turner went through some tough times. In Arkansas, they had a family of eight to feed during the Great Depression. My grandfather was injured in a work related accident and it took nearly a year until his patched-up health returned, a shoulder and arm were never the same.

Later, Grandpa Willie worked in New Mexico while Grandma Ethel cloth-diapered babies and kept children in school. Long distance marriage isn’t good, but it’s especially tough when the woman has six children to console in their dad’s necessary absence.

Like all of us, this couple dealt with disappointments, from tiny to terrible. Yet, I witnessed in them a determined spirit that inspires me to step over life-puddles threatening to dampen my path.

Recently, my Aunt Margaret, my grandparent’s eldest daughter, sent me a letter Grandpa had written to his family while he worked in New Mexico. Along with the letter postmarked “May 1934, Portales N. Mex,” she also sent a picture of Grandpa perched atop a Southwest rocky crag.

I own things worth more monetarily but these items rate high on my sentimental scale. The letter shows the heart of my grandfather, a young dad at that time, longing to be home with his family.

He wrote two pages. One, to his wife, is lettered in pencil on the front and back. He wrote how much he missed her and the kids. He ended it “from your Willie, love to all. Kiss the kids for me.”

On the second page, he wrote individual notes to each of his children. To his oldest son, he encouraged him to be a good boy and told him about the wolves howling in the mountains at night. He even wrote a note to the toddler who couldn’t read and thanked the children for their letters. He told his only daughter to “kiss the baby for me.”

His loneliness is evident, his longing for what he could not have seeps through the sentences. He wrote about wanting a job closer to home. Disappointment seems to be a regular side dish of any life. It can arrive in demitasse cups or by the platter load.

In a few days, nearly half our nation will be disappointed because their preferred presidential candidate lost in the presidential election. But others will celebrate the win of their choice for president. For all, perhaps words from a Supreme Ruler will offer assurance.

Through inspired writers, God often gave periodical reports about nations—good deeds, wrong paths, or if they were off track. Like a father writing home about wolves and sending pictures of craggy mountains, God also reminds us of his role as a father to all and to the leaders of the earth. “For God is the King of all the earth; sing to him a psalm of praise…. For the kings of the earth belong to God; he is greatly exalted” (Psalm 47:7, 9).

Be assured, whatever camp you are in after Election Day, our new King will have the best King seeing after him.

Women

A Scrapbook of Christmas Firsts is now available from Leafwood Publishers. They retail for $16.99 and make excellent gifts to families or friends. Hardback, gift edition has full color interior, silver foiled snowflakes on cover, 160 pages, tips to simplify the holidays, stories to warm hearts and encourage families. Learn how to grow myrrh, get 10 scrumptious cookie recipes, meet Grandma “Jeanealogy,” discover why Nova Scotia sends the city of Boston a Christmas tree each year, read about the Nativity hunt and the Santa chair, and much, much more:

Also leave a comment here or email writecat@consolidated.net to have name entered to win the October book give away. Your choice, The Stained Glass Pickup Devotional Book or A Scrapbook of Christmas Firsts ~ Stories to Warm Your Heart and Tips to Simplify Your Holiday

Get other holiday tips at our blog:
http://scrapbookofchristmasfirsts.blogspot.com/

The Woman of all Women

She got up before dawn. She reared children. In addition, she helped her husband, bought land and resold it. She also had a thriving textile business and a group of hired hands she oversaw.

No. She’s not super woman; she’s the woman described in Proverbs 31 as a virtuous woman, her price far above rubies. Men knew the worth of such a woman and would rather have her as a spouse than a cache of diamonds.

In the past, I envied the woman portrayed in Proverbs 31, puzzled over how this one woman could accomplish so much. In women’s Bible classes, from pulpits, in books, she was the classic model, placed on a pedestal, and none could seemingly climb to her level of performance. I knew I couldn’t.

If you haven’t read the text in awhile, stop and read it, and then you’ll follow the rest of this column more easily. In all those classes, I missed an important element within the description of her life.

By not looking deeper, I missed that this woman has gray hair. The text doesn’t actually say that she has aged and earned her fare share of wrinkles, but it surely implies that. When I finally saw this, whew, I felt better. For too many years, she had haunted me, trailed my thoughts. Taunted me with her accomplishments. I’m sure the woman herself wouldn’t have done that, but the account of her successes loomed big. I thought if only I had servant girls, then I could do what she did.

Then it occurred to me that I had the equivalent of servant girls in my household tools—washing machine, clothes dryer, electric dishwasher, Hoover vacuum, and a motorized car. Obviously the account in Proverbs 31 is an overview of her life time achievements. It’s not a single day or even a month of her life. An internet site, Proverbs 31 Ministries is dedicated to helping the modern woman create a godly home.

Women do not have absolutely perfect days. Depending upon our daily endeavors, we may have on a pair of high heels, tennis shoes, flip flops or bedroom slippers, and each brings its own set of joys and tests. One woman knew this well and after reading verse 28 which says her children “arise and call her blessed,” the frazzled mom said, “My children just rise up and call.”

This week, I glanced at the license plate on my Dodge Durango—they’ve been on it for years. Anyway, the first three identifiers are P31. I had to smile. The Proverbs 31 images are everywhere from my license plate to your lives, women.

Proverbs 31 women are everywhere. They anchor homes and businesses, and rock cradles. Why not say a great big thank you to one today or even better lend her a helping hand.

BOOK SIGNINGS in Conroe, TX: If you are in the area today, Oct. 17th, I’ll be at Hastings Bookstore at 3:30 until 7:00 P.M. (Highway 105 West and I-45), tomorrow, October 18th at J& D Country Store 105 West across from Metcalf and First Bank of Conroe, 10:00-12:00 noon. Later in this month or next at Christian Source Bookstore.
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A Scrapbook of Christmas Firsts is now available. They retail for $16.99 and make excellent gifts to families or friends . This book gently shares many facets of Jesus’ birth and life. Hardback, gift edition has full color interior, silver foiled snowflakes on cover, 160 pages, tips to simplify the holidays, stories to warm hearts and encourage families. Learn how to grow myrrh, get 10 scrumptious cookie recipes, meet Grandma “Jeanealogy,” discover why Nova Scotia sends the city of Boston a Christmas tree each year, read about the Nativity hunt and the Santa chair, and much, much more:

To order from me, contact me at writecat@consolidated.net or order from Leafwood Publishers, Abilene, TX

Also leave a comment here or email me to have name entered to win the October book give away. Your choice, The Stained Glass Pickup Devotional Book or A Scrapbook of Christmas Firsts ~ Stories to Warm Your Heart and Tips to Simplify Your Holiday

Get other holiday tips at our blog:
http://scrapbookofchristmasfirsts.blogspot.com/

The Hinge
Presidential terms, from George Washington’s to George Bush’s, have been at the mercy of joke makers. In Paul F. Boller’s “Presidential Anecdotes,” he relates a story going around during Woodrow Wilson’s tenure after he drafted Fourteen Points, a basis for a peace treaty and the foundation of a League of Nations.

The story: When President Wilson walked the golden streets of heaven, he ran into Moses. Moses asked, “You are Mr. Wilson, are you not?”

Mr. Wilson replied, “I am.”
Moses said, “I am very sorry for you.”

“Why so?”

“Weren’t you Woodrow Wilson, President of the United States, and didn’t you issue the Fourteen Points for settling the Great War?”

“I did,”

“Well, I’m very sorry for you because they have done such dreadful things to your Fourteen Points.”

“For the matter of that,” Wilson said, “I should advise you to return to earth and see what they have done to your Ten Commandments.”

Whether it’s a document drafted by man or guidelines given by the Almighty, humans will always test boundaries. We are frail beings capable of great good, but we also fail, and sometimes it’s a big fall. Some failures occur because we break the first few of God’s commandments. Found in Exodus 20, they instructed the Israelites to be single minded in their devotion to God.

God delivered them from slavery and said through Moses, “You shall have no other gods before me.” He also instructed them to show reverence by not misusing his name. This happens aplenty in America and across the world. Some sitcom writers seem to have limited creativity and stick the words, “Oh my G__” into every script. And text messaging has proliferated misuse, shortening the phrase to “OMG.”

Someone tested Jesus, wanting him to name the best of God’s laws, he reiterated that the greatest is to love God with all of the heart, mind, soul and strength and to love our neighbors the same way we love ourselves. He went on to say that all other good-living guidelines hinge off of those two.

If a cabinet door hinge is not on straight, the door will not close because of poor alignment. Citizens sometimes adore and pedestal elected officials, money, and selfish gain, making hinges crooked, and no doors will be righted until the proper steps are taken to repair the damages.

Yes, we could take another look at the Ten Commandments, especially the first few about revering God. A basic pivot of life is adoration for God and respecting his name. It’s a turning point on which the rest of life balances.

How is your hinge?

One More Washing

A Scrapbook of Christmas Firsts is now available. They retail for $16.99 and make excellent gifts to families or friends who might not know Jesus. They gently share many facets of his life and workings with people. Hardback, gift edition has full color interior, silver foiled snowflakes on cover, 160 pages, tips to simplify the holidays, stories to warm hearts and encourage families. Learn how to grow myrrh, get 10 scrumptious cookie recipes, meet Grandma “Jeanealogy,” discover why Nova Scotia sends the city of Boston a Christmas tree each year, read about the Nativity hunt and the Santa chair, and much, much more:

To order email me: $17.00 includes, S&H and taxes writecat@consolidated.net
Also leave a comment here or email to have name entered to win the October book give away. Your choice, The Stained Glass Pickup Devotional Book or A Scrapbook of Christmas Firsts ~ Stories to Warm Your Heart and Tips to Simplify Your Holiday


Get other holiday tips at our blog:
http://scrapbookofchristmasfirsts.blogspot.com/
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Years ago, some would say by chance, I met a woman from Michigan, who still blesses my life. While in Navasota, TX at a street sale, one of those where kettle popped corn permeates the air and the sun chases shoppers to the shaded booths, I met Irene.

At the time, I was a vendor, one who made different items from old pillowcases, embroidered furniture scarves, or lace curtains. When Irene saw some of my handiwork, she asked if I needed any more yesteryear pillowcases. Sensing that she had access to some, I said, “I can always use a few more old linens.”

Today, I still enjoy seeing the work of folks from the Nineteenth and Twentieth centuries, from those who spent hours weaving tiny stitches into both serviceable and beautiful items. Some of their adept needlework became lacy gloves, collars, or booties for babies to wear during the winter. Other sewing projects made by industrious women, and maybe some men, became aprons, bedspreads or tablecloths.

The day we met, Irene and I exchanged addresses and telephone numbers, and we struck up a business relationship. She located and sent me old linens, which I couldn’t resist. Some of the treasures are in my home and some have been gifted to friends. Irene has passed along old tapestry bell pulls, gorgeous hand embellished linen tablecloths, women’s vintage garments, tatted crosses, crocheted doilies, infants’ bonnets, lamp shade covers, and cross stitched Christmas scarves.

But Irene means more to me than the goods she sends. Over the past 15 years, we’ve become friends, exchanging family news, letters, phone calls and even cups of tea and warm cookies when she and her husband, Zolten, visit Texas. Once when I phoned her home, she was teaching her adult son how to make stuffed cabbage. Made me want to parboil cabbage leaves and stuff them for dinner that night, too, especially after getting instructions over the phone.

Again this week, a package arrived from Michigan. I opened it, folding back the layers of white tissue paper and discovered fresh washed linens, with handwritten notes about their history or how Irene had cleaned them. “Soda and Woolite. Good Results.” In one note my friend mentioned that one stack of linen, with more wear, were free, “Bonus. No charge, no way.”

In one note, she also reminisced a bit about those few worn pieces that she’d included, about salvaging those fragile bits which represented hours of toil. She said only her late grandma and Irene would save such tattered beauty, and she quoted an often heard phrase from her grandmother, “Let’s wash it one more time.”

The old ways, more labor intensive, can remind us of industry, and that even worn things can be made usable again. When cleaned up, something good can come from what looks to be useless. Through the prophet Jeremiah folks were encouraged, “Stand at the crossroads and look; ask for the ancient paths, ask where the good way is, and walk in it, and you will find rest for your souls” (6:16).

I can imagine God wanting us to look back at some of the old stories that point to his forgiveness and his just way of righting wrongs. He longs for us to keep asking for wisdom, to keep asking for more goodness and mercy in our lives. But sometimes I hear another voice, a discouraging one that whispers, “You’ve messed up again.”

But God’s compassion overrides, the discouraging voice. And on the days when I know I need yet another overhaul, more wisdom, more repairs, in my heart I hear God’s tender voice, caring, and merciful saying, “Let’s wash her one more time.”

Fill Us Up

SEPTEMBER WINNER: Maria J., has been notified that she is the winner of the September drawing and will be mailed a copy of A Scrapbook of Christmas Firsts ~ Stories to Warm Your Heart and Tips to Simplify Your Holiday

October Drawing: Send an email or leave a comment to win your choice of my devotional book or Christmas book.

Check out our Christmas blog at http://scrapbookofchristmasfirsts.blogspot.com/ for upcoming give-aways.
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My apologies for the newspaper column not being sent last week. My server was down. And Internet problems still linger after Hurricane Ike’s disastrous visit. We were without power for 9 days, but all is returning to near normal now. Thank you for all your prayers and offers of help.
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FILL US UP
I have three of them. One is floral with tiny colored buttons on an outside pocket, a gift from a Tennessean woman. Another is lime green and advertises a local dress shop. The last is royal blue, a token gift form a writer’s workshop. What are they? They are re-usable shopping bags.

Sounds noble, but I have a problem. I can’t remember to take them along to have them filled up. Centuries ago, shoppers who purchased goods knew to take along baskets, jugs, or bowls to hold their purchases. By the 16th Century, smaller items such as grains, beans, and buttons were being hawked and shopkeepers started wrapping purchases.

I learned that bookstores sold for scrap paper manuscripts that failed to be published. Merchants bought these and used them as “wrapping paper.” Picture a want-to-be writer watching a clerk tie up a few needles in page 42 of their rejected manuscript. Ouch.

Today, many countries have set a time limit and ban on plastic shopping bags, which can take a lifetime-plus to deteriorate. The amount of plastic dumped into landfills is staggering, besides the amount of oil used in the manufacturing of plastic.

On a trip through New Mexico, my husband Dave and I began to notice plastic bags littering the road side. In a short stretch, we counted over 100 clinging to barbed wire fences, low mesquite bushes, and desert plants.

Although I own at least three permanent shopping bags, here’s my problem. So far, I haven’t remembered to take one into a store with me. And, I’ve yet to see any of you carrying them into the store either. Of course, I know a hand full of you do, and I probably haven’t seen you efficient folk because I don’t do much shopping. I want to be like you and take the bags in and fill them up.

Right now, my shopping bags have made it to the passenger seat of my car, and today, I hope to carry groceries out of the store in them. But why am I telling you all of this, because it relates to a scripture that has been on my mind. God reminded the Israelites that he was the one who brought them out of Egypt, out of slavery. Then he reminded them if they’d show up, desiring to know him better that he’d take care of the filling. He said it this way: “Open your mouth wide and I will fill it” (Psalm 81:10 NKJV).

Hungry baby birds stretch open their beaks and clamor for nourishment, and great growth is the result. Like my earth friendly shopping bags, it is good to be ready and available and watching to be filled up, but we can be filled with something better -- the wisdom of God.

Modern plastic bags are decorated with store logos which are artful mini-billboards. The Christian, who is filled up is also a billboard of hope, peace, clarity and calm. Not a perfect advertisement, but an enticing one that may just cause hunger in others, cause them to open wide their mouths so God can fill them.