Saturday, March 18, 2006

Old Photos


Recently, I browsed through some old family photos. Besides the nostalgic moments, I felt as though I had regained a part of some dearly beloved family members. Death brings with it separation, for a time, at least. To love a person is to never stop missing them when they are gone. A good, healthy love will truly last forever.

I reconnected with my Grandmother on my mom's side during this look at the past. Her life was cut short at age 54 by lung cancer. I was eight years old, shocked, devastated by this loss. I remember that I loved her deeply and that she loved me, valued the person that I was in the process of becoming. As a grandmother, she had time for me.

The photos I discovered are now sitting on my desk, where I can gaze and remember the loved ones God has given me. Though they are gone from this earth, they remain in my heart forever. The picture of my dad as a young boy gives me insight into his character. He stands with his two younger brothers whom I'm sure he teased relentlessly, but loved ferociously, as was his nature. He was a young man in the navy, a newlywed, and a baby. I hope that somehow, in heaven, all that has been lost will be regained.

Tuesday, March 14, 2006

Grandpa Was a Narcissist


How do I love me? Let me count the ways:

1. I always talk about myself. I love to monologue.
2. I never wonder how you feel.
3. I get angry when you don't do the jobs I want you to do or when you do them the wrong way.
4. I try to find ways in which other people will see me as good and important.
5. It doesn't bother me to leave my children at home on Christmas while my wife and I go away to visit relatives.
6. When fruit is scarce I buy just enough for myself.
7. I never praise my sons, although I may brag about them to others.
8. I get teary when I tell sad stories about me.
9. I see my wife and sons as possessions. I can do what I want with them.
10. I beat my sons when they do stupid things.

How can the son of a narcissist recover?

Thursday, March 09, 2006

It's All Good


The good we experience in this world comes from our Father in heaven. If He removed His Spirit from our world, it would fall apart! Jesus Christ holds all things together and has done so from the beginning.

God dwells with us, here on this earth, through His Holy Spirit. When we listen to that Spirit, when we hear His voice through the words of the Bible, we are corrected, encouraged, strengthened, and given faith.

Faith is a gift. The Holy Spirit illumines God's Word and we recieve faith in Christ, who is the Word that became flesh and dwelt among us. Eph. 2:8-9

Rococo
Photo: www.mountainadventures.com

Thursday, March 02, 2006

The man said...


"This is now bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh; she shall be called woman, for she was taken out of man."
For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and they will become one flesh.
Genesis 2:23-24

Monday, February 27, 2006

Leaving is So Easy


You don't feel the way you did at one time. Things have changed and leaving is easy. No one tells you not to go. You have a right to fulfillment. You are the one that has been injured in this relationship. Why stay? Just get on that train and go on down that track. You need to find happiness.

Come to think of it, why make a commitment in the first place? It's a lot easier to leave if nothing is expected. Marriage just complicates life. Right? That's right, isn't it? I mean, no one gets hurt if nothing is expected. It's just ....easier.

And kids... Well, they're flexible. They adjust to whatever... Yeah, they can make it. That's why only 20% of American kids have attachment disorder now days. I'm sure the percentage would be higher if children couldn't handle things like divorce and being raised by one parent. It doesn't hurt them "big-time" to be left behind... when the train goes on down the track.

Rococo
photo: home.earthlink.net/tllebron/id24.html

Wednesday, February 22, 2006

In Need of a Miracle


Jesus said that if we don't forgive our brother from our heart, we will not be forgiven. That just doesn't seem to be the way we operate. When someone injures us, we have a whole court system that will help us to get reparations for what we have suffered. I don't see very many examples of true forgiveness in this world of human beings. Dogs seem to be better at it than we are, and that is because their memories aren't very good!

That's just it...memory. A dog quickly forgets his ears being brutally cut off, but humans can't forget the hurt and the anger they feel. So how do we forgive from the heart? I am not sure. I can't always control my feelings. I can control my actions though. I am reminded of a story that Corrie ten Boom told about forgiving her enemy. There was a guard that had beaten her sister in a concentration camp in Germany during WWII. Her sister had died in the camp and Corrie was alone after the war. She was speaking to a group of Christians about God's grace and forgiveness in even the darkest of places. After the talk, the same guard who had ill-treated her sister in the camp, came towards her with hand outstretched, to greet her. Of course, Corrie remembered the brutal beating that her sister had suffered from this person. She prayed, "God I can't forgive. Help me!" and then stretched her hand out. As the guard took her hand, forgiveness somehow flowed through them.

Obviously, her memory of this event remained with her, but her feelings did change. She could still remember the way she felt but she did not hold on to the angry, hurt feelings. Perhaps whenever we are able to forgive, a miracle takes place.

Thursday, February 16, 2006

Submit or Die


A ghostly figure stands timidly alone beside the column. Her hands say she is a woman. A shocking sight to the uninitiated.
In reading about the life of Mohammed, it seems to me as though there are similarities between the founder of Islam and the founder of Mormonism. The most obvious likeness is the way they treated women. Joseph Smith was able to manipulate women into becoming" multiple wives" with promises of obtaining heaven through their husbands. Mohammed also had revelations that served his purposes. His youngest wife was but 9 years old. The fruit of Islam has been oppression of women throughout its history. The Mormons have distanced themselves from their prophet, no longer practicing polygamy. Islam becomes violent when its prophet is even mildly criticized, calling for death to any who would oppose them.

Rococo

Friday, February 10, 2006

Evergreen


Stability in relationships is uncommon in our society. People move from person to person as often as from place to place. The definition of family and marriage is changing. Old boundaries are torn down. We have new definitions. I see our society falling apart because people have nothing in which to trust.

The changes I see happening in our culture are not attractive to me, but I do desire change of another sort. A static, even stagnant environment symbolizes hopelessness. This is why I love to take something old and ugly and make it beautiful and new. God does this very thing when he takes our ugly old sin and replaces it with the righteousness of Christ.

I am excited about the changes on our place. It is becoming something new. The ugly old Chinese elms will be gone. Then the beautiful evergreens we planted years ago will be uncovered. Perhaps this makes some people sad because they have memories of good happenings around the old things. For me though, the old things have been thorns in my flesh, like sin that is unconfessed and festering. I want it all cleared out, cleaned up, and redesigned. The evergreens which have been hidden all this time will be allowed to flourish.

Rococo

Saturday, December 24, 2005

O Come Let Us Adore Him


He is the long-awaited Messiah, who would come to save his people, Israel. Many remembered the prophesies and recognized him.

The evil powers of the time saw him as a threat and tried to kill him early on, but his parents were warned in a dream and escaped.

Other powerful and wise men followed a sign in the sky and came to worship this child they believed to be a king.

The shepherds came to a stable, which was perhaps more like a cave in the hillside, to see this sight. What did they see? Why did they worship?

The angels said to the shepherds,"Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David, a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in strips of cloth and lying in a manger."

This baby is Immanuel, meaning God with us. He came to " give his people the knowledge of salvation through the forgiveness of their sins, because of the tender mercy of our God, to shine on those living in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the path of peace."

O come let us adore Him. He is Christ the Lord.

Sunday, December 04, 2005

Tis the Season...to Repent


The season of advent is not a time for rejoicing. It is a time for looking inward, examining yourself, getting ready for the coming of the Lord. It is a time of reflection, of reading the scriptures, of prayer, of fasting. When will the Lord come again? Only God knows and He is not willing that any of us should perish, but that we should all come to Him.

Saturday, December 03, 2005

Collision


As our discussions usually develop, we wandered through various topics in a most engaging manner. We began with witches and how society's views have changed towards these creatures that supposedly wear pointed hats and ride broom sticks. From the biblical view in which witchcraft is an abomination, we moved to the witch-hunting hysteria of times past, and finally to our postmodern view of witches typified most recently in Harry Potter. Then, of course, there are the real witches of Wicca. Another discussion.

Truth and lie are almost always mixed in the movies we see and the books we read. A common lie in the Harry Potter movie is that God is just...nowhere...absent. The witches and wizards are like people we know, not strange, really. This could be any boarding school story, minus the magic. Titillating but empty, in my view.

Magic is a well-used subject for books and movies in our culture. We seem to be attracted by power. What if we could fly? Or how would it feel to be able make something happen by the use of words/spells? This happens in video games all the time. By maneuvering buttons you can make things happen. Realistic graphics increase the feeling of real power. There are gamers that live their lives in their favorite role-playing scenario, preferring the feeling of power and adventure it gives them to connection with real people. They are living a lie. What happens when that lie collides with reality?

Rococo

Thursday, December 01, 2005

Culture Wars



In the coming days, it will be very hard as a Christian to stand against the tide of the coming cultural takeover. It will be confusing, difficult to discern good from evil. Just as the voice of the witch in The Silver Chair lulled the children to sleep, telling them that there is no overworld, no sun, no Aslan, so it will be for the young believers of God's word and His Son. "There is truth in other religions," says the witch." Jesus was a good man and there are many other good prophets as well." she says." Yes, we begin to agree. God speaks to us in many ways.....zzzzzzzzzz" Puddleglum! Where are you?

Wednesday, November 30, 2005

Beginnings


One childhood ends while another begins.

One mother realizes her age and the end of busy days with children.

The other is just beginning her life with a child of her own.

To hold my daughter's baby will be an incredible experience, one that I wouldn't want to miss.

A new phase of life, this grandparenting, the beginning of watching and praying.

Tuesday, November 29, 2005

The Electric Connection


WeSandmen came home from Thanksgiving vacation to a cold house. We were thankful to make it home before the blizzard hit full force and snapped the power lines. For a night and a day we were without electricity, which for country living also means no water. We had filled all our vessels full of water at the first signs of the storm, knowing from experience that our power might go.

Losing our power makes us realize how really helpless we are without stoves, refrigerators, computers, lights, television, and running water. We did not quite know what to do with ourselves. I had a pile of laundry from the weekend that I had to leave in a pile. My husband could not get to work or get on the computer which made him grumpy. He wandered around the house in survival mode gathering candles and lanterns, filling the tub with water, and making little messes for me to clean up! I took a long nap. We waited anxiously for the return of our power.

Even as I write this, I am seeing spiritual analogies. We wait in this world, darkened by sin, for the return of Christ. When He returns, the lights come back on and all is well again. We have our lives back as they were meant to be. Without Christ, we are dead in our sin, helpless to save ourselves, although we scurry around trying to fix things, trying to survive. We feel helpless in the face of death, our last great enemy.

Technology has solved many of our problems and made our lives easier. (Imagine going outside in a blizzard to use the bathroom!) It has also made us weak in some ways. We are dependent upon machines to a very large extent. It is sobering to remember that if one little wire snaps, our lives are put on hold. It would be wise to develop interests and abilities that do not rely upon the electric connection. Wiser still to put our trust in an all-powerful and merciful God.

Thursday, November 17, 2005

In the Autumn Air


It was a crisp, clear, Thanksgiving Day. The meal was over and everyone had gone their separate ways, to study, visit on the phone with friends, or sleep in front of the football game. The pie had been delicious this year and the dressing supreme, but, as usual, something was missing. It was anti-climactic. It had taken her mother hours to make this wonderful feast and although they tried to stretch out the conversation around the table, it was over in 30 minutes or less. Everyone was stuffed and sleepy, seemingly content to do very little.

It was excitement she wanted, something wildly fun, perhaps even dangerous! She needed to get out of the stuffy, sleepy house into the cold air and do something exhilarating. "I"m going for a ride, Mom," she said. Dressed warmly, she got in her car and took off. She knew what she wanted to do, but didn't know if she had the courage.

When she arrived at the barn, there was Kitty, waiting for her. The mare nickered and was rewarded with a lump of sugar. A former race horse, Sheza Kitty, still had hot blood in her and she longed to run. Today, she might get her chance. Never before had the teenager allowed Kitty to run her fastest. "I don't even know if I can stay on!" she thought.

Saddled and bridled, the beautiful sorrel with four white stockings stepped out into the blue and gold autumn air. The girl mounted and they were on their way. "If I let her go, I don't know if I can get her stopped. What if she runs into something? What if she trips and falls? What if I fall? " They found a dirt road that stretched for miles, flat and empty. "She's a quarter horse. She'll only run a quarter of a mile before she gets tired." she reminded herself. "Courage!"

Kitty immediately sensed something different about this ride. She gathered her legs under her and took off. The girl urged her on with yells and encouragement. Kitty broke into a run - not a canter, not a gallop, but a run. No... this was more like flying! For the first time, the teenager felt like all the other heroines in the horse stories she so avidly read. She and Kitty were as one. The ride was smooth and soooo fast. It took all her strength, but she knew she could stay on, she could finish the ride. And indeed, Kitty showed her breeding by slowing after a quarter of a mile. They finished the ride in companionable silence, horse and girl satisfied with their performance. The horse felt relaxed and content. The girl knew that she and her horse had, for a moment or two, actually flown in the autumn air! Her joy in this ride, her sense of freedom, speed, and exhilaration was made all the sweeter by her prison-like experience of wearing a body brace for the last three years of her young life. Indeed, this was thanksgiving!

Rococo
photo: www.mooseyscountrygarden.com

Saturday, November 05, 2005


"I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. And whoever welcomes a little child like this in my name welcomes me."
Jesus

Friday, November 04, 2005

Riding the Red Monster


He was going to ride the combine with his Dad for the first time! Dad lifted him up into the cab of the big red machine and climbed in himself. They drove out to the field. The tow-headed three year old was wide-eyed and silent. He watched and rode, very patiently observing everything in silence. They were harvesting milo, a reddish-colored grain used for feed. The young child had seen this crop planted in the spring, cultivated and growing over the summer, nurtured along by his Dad, who was now cutting it down. The heads of the milo were cut and the grain went into the mysterious depths of the monster machine, where it appeared to be ground up and spit out the back. Milo dust filled the air and made the boy and his father cough and itch. Not wanting to appear less than intelligent about this seemingly brutal process, the boy turned to his father and asked, "Dad, is this good for the milo?"
Rococo

Thursday, November 03, 2005

There's Some Good in This World and It's Worth Fighting For!


"Do you remember the old stories, Mr. Frodo, the ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger they were and sometimes you didn't want to know the end because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad happened? But in the end, its only a passing thing. The shadow, even darkness must pass. A new day will come and when the sun shines, it will shine the clearer. Those are the stories that stayed with you, even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand! I know now! Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back only they didn't. They kept going because they were holding on to something."

"What are we holding on to, Sam?"

"That there's some good in this world, Mr. Frodo, and it's worth fighting for!"

Sir Colin
Photo: www.arwen-udomiel.com/images/Sam_4jpg
quote: LOTR The Two Towers

Monday, October 31, 2005

Dad's Narnia Character




To find out yours, go to

Just Like Mom's


She was young. She meant well. And it was not really her fault because the recipe didn't specify. You have to take into consideration her inexperience and also her good will towards all the members of the household and towards the whole world really. It was the thanksgiving season you see. Not quite here yet, but the leaves had all changed color and the air was crisp and fresh. Pumpkins had begun to appear on doorsteps in the neighborhood. All of this contributed to her feeling of goodwill and love toward all of mankind. It was her favorite time of the year. She was looking forward to the upcoming holidays, with all the good food. Food! "I'll make a pumpkin pie! she thought. "Just like my mom's ...mmmm."

"Let's see here." She found the recipe and began gathering ingredients. Sugar, flour, spices, pumpkin...She needed 2 cups of pumpkin. They had some pumpkins sitting around so she got one and began wrestling with it. First, to get it open. The knife sliced through the middle of the pumpkin with some difficulty but she persevered and got the thing open. Ok, now to scoop out the insides. There didn't seem to be stuff in there that was soft enough to make a pie but she scooped out the stringy stuff and began picking out the seeds. Man! This was a lot of work. She didn't know that her mom worked that hard on her pumpkin pies. The crust turned out great and the stringy stuff from the middle (minus all the seeds) combined with the other ingredients tasted flavorful. The baked pie didn't look quite like her mother's. A little disappointed, but anxious to serve her friends her first pumpkin pie, she brought it out after supper.

"A pumpkin pie!" they exclaimed with surprise. "Did you make this yourself?"
"Yes, I did". she proudly answered.

Everyone began to taste the pie. She waited for their compliments and saw surprise on their faces instead of the looks of ecstasy she had imagined as she had performed surgery on the troublesome pumpkin.

"It tastes really good, but why are there strings in it?" her best friend tactfully questioned.

"I couldn't get them to soften when I mixed them with the other ingredients after I picked the seeds out." she explained. My face...I mean, her face... began to heat. " Sorry."

What was everyone laughing about? With good will and more laughter her friends kindly... and laughingly... told her how to make a real pumpkin pie. One just like her mom's.

Rococo
(Yeah, It was me.)