beckyzblog

Best Advice Ever

2011-10-18T23:45:00.000-05:00

Decided to share four of the wisest things i've ever heard in all my life. File under "Best advice ever." Credit given in parenthesis.
1. Best safety advice: "Never walk down a hill backwards with your eyes closed." (cousin Joe Kelly Groves, at age 4)
2. Best advice for understanding people: "She's really a nice lady, she just didn't fall off the same watermelon truck as everyone else." (Roy Crowell, Minister of Education)
3. Best ministry advice: "Walk slowly among the flock." (Gail Linam, mentor during early ministry years)
4. Best relationship advice: "It is better to be kind, than right." (unknown or unremembered)

Come Weary Saints

2011-08-31T22:18:00.004-05:00

Come weary Saints.

I did not write all of this, merely compiled things. But I live here today.

As the people of God , we find ourselves tired. Scripture teaches there is weariness to the Gospel. "Let us not become weary in doing good..." (Galatians 6:9). We must not faint. We must not lose heart. We must not move on but move forward. But it has been a season of weariness, exhaustion, seemingly insurmountable challenges. When it's most difficult, it's even hard to remember we are advancing the Gospel to the next generation.

Christ said, "Come unto me, all who are weary and burdened..." (Matthew 11:28). Christ bids me to come to Him, rest, die to self-indulgence and my way rather than the narrow way. The broad way seems much easier and less tiresome. It is not.

Yet the Lord time and time again speaks into my heart life giving words…"Therefore since through God’s mercy we have this ministry, we do not lose heart." 2 Corinthians 4:1

"The gifts and the calling of God are irrevocable," Romans 11:29

But I am weary.

As believers, we know that our most painful problem—separation from God—has been solved. Jesus Christ, the only Savior, has taken our sin upon himself, enduring God’s wrath in our place and rising from the dead to assure us of our forgiveness. But all our problems don’t end when we turn to Christ. We grow weary in battle. We still get sick. Marriages end. Children die. Our plans, great or small, are disrupted.

Scripture assures us that God is sovereignly using our difficulties as tools to make us more like his Son. “We rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.” (Ro 5:3–5) While we know these things are true, in the midst of our hardships we can lose perspective. Problems can loom large, and our hopes can grow dim.

Come weary saints -- redirect your focus to the God whose love has been forever demonstrated at the cross of Calvary. May your faith and joy in the Savior be strengthened for the challenges you face, now or in the future.

Oh the Deep, Deep Love of Jesus
Sovereign Grace Music

Oh the deep, deep love of Jesus
Vast, unmeasured, boundless, free
Rolling as a mighty ocean
In its fullness over me
Underneath me, all around me
Is the current of Your love
Leading onward, leading homeward
To Your glorious rest above

Oh the deep, deep love
All I need and trust
Is the deep, deep love of Jesus

Oh the deep, deep love of Jesus
Spread His praise from shore to shore
How He came to pay our ransom
Through the saving cross He bore
How He watches o’er His loved ones
Those He died to make His own
How for them He’s interceding
Pleading now before the throne

Oh the deep, deep love of Jesus
Far surpassing all the rest
It’s an ocean full of blessing
In the midst of every test
Oh the deep, deep love of Jesus
Mighty Savior, precious Friend
You will bring us home to glory
Where Your love will never end

My Favorite Moment of Today

2011-05-18T17:25:00.010-05:00

I copied this from my daughter's blog, because i have pondered it every day since she posted it on May 2, and every time i do...it just makes me smile. I asked her permission to post it on my blog, since hers is "by invitation only" for a while.

Titus and his speech teacher Miss Anna.

Our church now has a link on our web site called, "Prepare for Worship." Here you can read what the sermon will be about as well as listen to the songs we will be singing that morning. We have started using this in our home on sunday mornings to teach our children the words beforehand so they can join in with us. We love it! The kids bust out with their instruments and we repeat the chorus of each song multiple times to help with memorization. It prepares my heart just watching my children worship. Amazingly sweet.

So, one song we practiced yesterday for church was "Stronger." (click the word to hear the song!) Titus totally resonated with the chorus and internalized it pretty quickly. I noticed that as he sang, he was annunciating his sounds very clearly. It happened to be some of the sounds he has been working on with Ms. Anna, his speech teacher. Specifically his middle "g" sound (stronger) and his medial "k" sound (broken), etc.

I have been asking the Lord to give me a greater boldness and creativity in sharing the gospel lately with three kids and staying home a lot. The Lord laid on my heart to ask Titus if he wanted to sing this song for Miss Anna to both show her his sounds and tell her about Jesus. He enthusiastically agreed. I don't know exactly where she stands with the Lord but am striving to use these little opportunities to build relationship, love, and testify.

So....my favorite moment today. Kneeling beside my four year old (ok the tears are streaming now as i write) and helping him sing this song to his precious speech teacher. Here were the words he sang so sweetly...

"You are stronger, You are stronger,
Sin is broken,
You have saved me.
It is written, Christ is risen,
Jesus You are Lord of all!"

Miss Anna was all smiles.

After a month of destructive tornadoes and on a day in which the Lord brought justice to the oppressed through the death of a terrorist I closed up explaining how Christ is stronger than the pain and hurt in this world. What an honor to be able to explain Christ through a song of my four year old.

That was this mother's favorite moment today, and I can't imagine how much joy it brought the Father.

To the Ends of the Earth

2011-04-13T22:50:00.006-05:00

Came across this visually astonishing video recently, and wanted to pass it on.

It is Psalm 67 set to music, based on the cry for God to shine His face upon His people that we, in turn, might be a light to the nations. (Basically the content of the whole semester of the Perspectives class I'm taking.)

“May God be gracious to us and bless us and make his face shine upon us, that your ways may be known on earth, your salvation among all nations. May the peoples praise you, O God; may all the peoples praise you. May the nations be glad and sing for joy, for you rule the peoples justly and guide the nations of the earth.” Ps. 67:1-4

Those with a heart for the Nations...enjoy. http://prayercast.com/uniquepcast/shine

Welcome Home

2011-04-10T21:37:00.006-05:00

A reminder popped up on my computer today about Frances' birthday coming up in a few days. Not meaning to be melancholy, because i really am happy for her- moving to a new location and living the astonishingly perfect life...pain free, no tears, sweet rest, closer to Jesus that i can imagine...

But i've really been missing her lately.

I just know she'd be so involved in getting me ready to go to Africa, have all these amazing ideas of fabulous creative things to do with the kids, hand me a list of things to bring back for the resource room, pray me there and back. And she'd already be fussing at me for not being better planned and already having my suitcase packed days ahead of time. Because she surely would have.

I was blessed to attend a Michael W. Smith Christmas concert in early December where i heard him sing, "Welcome Home", a new song from his latest project, Wonder. It fit right where my heart was at the time, and ministered to me having just lived through the tedious, emotional days of loving her to the Homeland. So every time i hear it now, my eyes fill up and spill over just a little bit, and i so miss the sparkle and life of my friend. But we do not grieve as do those who have no hope. What a blessed promise.

Welcome Home

I can't believe that I'm here, having to say goodbye.
And i can barely see you through these tears i cry.
I close my eyes.

I can hear the sound, as angels gather 'round
Saying, "This is where you belong - Welcome Home!"

There are the days that my heart aches wishing you were here.
But i know where you are the hurt and the pain disappear.
There's no more tears.

I can hear the sound, as angels gather 'round
Saying, "This is where you belong - Welcome Home!"

Happy birthday, Frances! I'll try to do good in Africa!!!

(And someone tell Duane that this would be a great song to sing at my funeral...right before the fireworks!)

I'm Mary...

2010-12-10T23:28:00.004-06:00

One Christmas, Mom and I were Christmas shopping in a Hallmark store in Houston, two preschoolers in tow. We had just picked the girls up from Mother’s Day Out and run in for a minute. It was one of those hoity-toity stores where the clerks follow you around from aisle to aisle just waiting for you to break something, so we each quickly grabbed the hand of one of the kids.

Ashley had on that cute little red Christmas jumper with straps that tied at the shoulder and were finished with green Christmas tree appliqués that hung down the front of the dress. I don’t know when or how she got away, but after only a few minutes, I looked up and saw my little red- headed pixie climb up on a rocking horse in the window display, pull the back of her dress up over her head like a shawl, pooch her skinny little stomach out as far as she could manage and loudly announce, “MY NAME IS MARY. AND I AM JUST ABOUT READY TO HAVE THIS BABY.” I grabbed her off the rocking horse, turned to Mom and said, “Lets go, Granny. Ashley is about to deliver,” and we rushed out of the store in stitches!

Every Christmas we look back and realize that at every turn of the road we never really realized how blessed we were. The kids were only little a few minutes, it seemed, and we sometimes didn’t find the time to enjoy every minute of it!

This year is no different, except now it is easier to see... Christmas blessings from me and my house, to you and yours.

The Nuts and Bolts Nativity

2010-12-06T19:41:00.002-06:00

The little church we went to when our kids were preschoolers had very limited resources. Looking back, we probably didn’t need that much, to start with... We just had one class of babies, one class of one year olds, one class of two year olds, and so on. So maxxing out at about 5 preschool classes, we just didn’t need THAT many resources. Except in December. Except at Christmas.

It really was a challenge to share the one Nativity puzzle we owned among all the Sunday School rooms when everyone ultimately needed it the same day. We decided that when one teacher finished using it, they could run it down the hall to the next room so the next class could take a turn.

I’ll never forget the day it happened. My friend Emily was teaching the four year old class. She set up the block corner and added the one container we had with all the various sized nuts and bolts in it. Nuts and bolts are a great “manipulative” and a wonderful home made puzzle, as the kids can spend a lot of time matching the correct sized nuts to the correct sized bolts. Promotes cognitive thinking skills as kids match the sizes, fine motor coordination as they screw and unscrew all the nuts, and all that preschool developmental jazz.

But in the middle of Sunday School, in the block center, the most astonishing thing happened in the four year old class that long ago December day. As I was delivering the puzzle to Emily’s room, she waved me off. “We don’t need it today. Look.” It was there on the floor in the block center .

The biggest nut and bolt had become Joseph. The medium nut and bolt had become Mary. The itty bitty one was, of course, the baby Jesus. And all the other nuts and bolts were gathered around in worship.

The kids had figured it out as they played in the center and Emily told them the Bible story.

Teachable moment…. Especially for me.

Don't Forget the Wonder

2010-12-03T21:58:00.003-06:00

It’s Christmas again.

I remember the year it seemed like Christmas for the very first time…sharing the wonder of His birth with our then little two-year old daughter, Kari. She was hearing the angels singing for the very first time, seeing the lights and the Star, and knowing the joy of His birthday is such a fresh, sensitive way.

If she asked me once, she asked me a hundred times, “Mommy, Jesus was born in a barn???” And it bothered her so much that she renamed her only baby doll “Baby Jesus” and prepared Him a bed in her room, beside hers, in a tiny doll bassinette with lots of warm blankets, and pillows and …and that’s the secret of joy, isn’t it? Prepare Him room. Let every ♥ prepare Him room.

And don’t forget the wonder…

Christmas Musings

2010-12-02T21:06:00.005-06:00

I guess I learned to love Christmas from my Dad. It was, hand’s down, his favorite time of year. Enchanted by the delicious magic of it all, his blue eyes twinkled brighter at Christmas than any other time. The things I remember most are the things Mom and Dad did with us, and in making our own entertainment we were rich beyond imagination… Driving around looking at Christmas lights, watching people at the mall (especially children), huge extended family holidays at Mama Jo’s old sprawling Oklahoma farmhouse with more people than you could count,

lying by the tree and watching the lights twinkle to the Christmas music Dad always kept playing. (Back in those days, the lights were bigger and had individual “twinklers”, not like the strands we have today. Dad named them after choir members at church to get an even bigger laugh…the one that always came in late was “Dave”, etc.)

Family was priceless, friends were always welcomed, snuggles were longer and warmer, and Christmas came amidst the beauty of it all.

Precious Hope, Precious Saint, Precious Friend

2010-11-18T21:34:00.003-06:00

1 Thessalonians 4:13 But we do not want you to be uninformed, brethren, about those who are asleep, so that you will not grieve as do the rest who have no hope.

Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His Saints. Psalm 116:15

I could simply stop here and let the Word speak for itself about Frances Ivins. Precious hope, precious saint, precious friend.

Precious Hope.
Jim, thank you for leaving your door open, so we could love her to the end. Frances was so astonished at everyone who wanted to come see her when she got home, and how loved she felt. She left with as much grace as she lived with.

We were able to hold hands and chat a few days ago. She told me she was at peace. She knew where she was going. She loved angels, was always giving me something with angels on it. So I bought her a little angel at the Craft Show, made from olive wood from Bethlehem, and pressed it into her palm the night I went to see her at the hospital. We had just found out it would only be a few days. She said, “I’m taking it with me.” We cried. But she wasn’t afraid. She was at peace. She knew she’d be welcomed by her Creator, the One who invested in her soul so much of His creativity.

I can imagine her delight in the perfection of Heaven. Her wonder when she met her Savior for the first time, and touched His face. And He said, "Well done, good and faithful servant. Welcome home." Precious Hope.

But in a few weeks, after she worships a few days, and feasts a few days (she hasn’t’ been able to eat for a while, and she loves a good Mexican food lunch), she’ll probably have her little part of Heaven redecorated and organized, the pearly gates oiled and leveled, and the streets of gold swept and scrubbed. If I know Frances.

Precious Saint.
She made it easy to love her.
Her heart was big . Her vision was Kingdom minded. Her touch made everything better.

We became friends when Frances started working in the Resource Room. Things just clicked for us. She was trained in good preschool ministry long before I arrived, and we had the same heartbeat for doing it the right way. Frances helped many inexperienced teachers tow the line of biblically and developmentally appropriate activities by her gentle guidance and helping them see a better way to teach, guiding them to use the curriculum, giving them a better activity to use instead of the one they had picked out, or jazzing up a mundane Bible learning activity with a little bit of pizzazz.

She did it for the kids. She gave in and filled orders way after the stated deadlines, b/c if she didn’t’ the kids wouldn’t have anything on Sunday mornings …she told me time and time again she did it for the kids. She kept little pictures of children taped to her computer screen who needed praying for, when she got a picture or an email about a child who was ill, or in need. She did it for the kids.

But she did it for the teachers too. She supported us. She enhanced us. She trained us. She suffered through us, and with us and prayed for us. I can see her rolling her eyes at me with all my last minute plans, and saying, “oh brother!” BUT she’d stay late or come early to do what she could to make me successful…whether it was decorating for a teacher’s meeting, or blowing up a balloon arch for an extra umph on Promotion Day or decorating for Christmas ADVENTure. We moved Nativity Scenes around from here to there, sometimes with minutes to spare…and she and Jim came earlier and stayed later than everyone else to make it happen, and put it back in order when it was done and everyone else had long gone home.

Nothing was more beautiful or satisfying than when Frances decorated the chapel for Christmas ADVENTure, our family worship celebration to begin the Christmas season focused on the true, biblical meaning of Christmas. The plaid bows she had artfully made were fluffed just right on the pews, the Christmas lights sparkled in the pine trees, and the manger scene sat right under the stained glass – the focal point of the entire worship celebration. I remember her happy smile, because it was all so breathtaking…and her heart was that the children would walk into the chapel with wonder, and be astonished at the simplicity and beauty of the baby King.

She was our backbone. She had an unparalleled commitment to kids ministry, to excellence. To organization. She was classy. And her love, her big heart, and her work ethic made us all better.

Frances did all things well. She was humble. She wanted to point to the Father, never to Frances. Always behind the scenes, never wanting the glory… Precious Saint.

Precious Friend.
For me, a trusted friend. She always called me her boss, and I always corrected her and said, “friend.” But the level of trust we shared was unspoken. She was so organized. She worked hard. She kept an eagle eye over things for me downstairs in the preschool area. She took the Resource Room to the next level – churches all over the convention come to tour her Resource Room and ask how to set one up like it. She was visionary. She kept things running that I never even knew about, she expected and provided excellence. I know there were times she actually scrubbed bathroom floors or light switches with toothbrushes, to make sure they were clean enough, because I know she loved her church, loved her job, understood kids ministry, and wanted things CLEAN! She would say, “The Lord deserves our best. We can do better than this.” I know she also had Pa building things in his workshop so we’d have all the things we needed at half the cost! She worked part time in the Resource Room for many years, but it wasn’t just a part time job for her—she enlarged her boundaries, she lived and breathed it, worked at home on her computer at night, always thinking of things, always pinching pennies to keep us under budget, always excellent—so we finally had to make her full time to try to compensate for all those extra hours! Frances even texted me one night from the hospital at 11:50 p.m., in ALL CAPS: I MISS MY JOB!!!

But how could we ever repay her? She served wholeheartedly. Her creativity. Her joy in serving, behind the scenes. Her way of making everything special—just going the extra mile. Her persnickityness to have everything in its place and everything in order. That was our Frances.

She always threw a party on the Thursday of Vacation Bible School. Now anyone who has ever taught in VBS knows that on Thursday you literally hit the wall. That’s the day you’re totally exhausted, the kids are tired and cranky, you haven’t made up your beds or had a home cooked meal all week long, and you’re wondering if you’re going to make it even one more day. So Frances throws a swimming party. So we can relax and chat and laugh, and soak up some little measure of friendship… She cooks this amazing Mexican taco casserole (who knows when in the world she has had time to do that), has an immaculately clean house, and invites her resource room staff and various friends over for lunch and the afternoon. As long as you want to stay. A friend party.

A true friend of the heart, we trusted each other. Nothing to hide between us, we prayed for each other. And each others kids. And each others grandkids. She Understood. Knew each others strengths and weaknesses. Knew each others hurts and pains. Let our guard down, together. Because of love. Because of trust.

She crossed over in faith. We grieve, but not as the rest who have no hope. We love you, precious friend. Have you in our hearts.

Alaska from the Back of the Bike, Day 10

2010-10-18T23:05:00.008-05:00

Wednesday, June 30

Hiked to Russian River Falls, a 2.3 mile hike, where we watched the salmon jumping the falls. Absolutely astonishing! We hiked part of the way up with a friendly guy from Texas, enjoyed the conversation. Pretty scenery on the way back down the Skilak River Road, but it was gravel and pretty dusty…not Duane’s favorite type of surfacing on the motorcycle.

The blue sky came out in its full intensity, so we decided NOT to waste the beautiful afternoon and took another half day trip down to Homer, an artist community at literally the tip of Alaska on the Cook Inlet. Most of the days have been cloudy to partly cloudy most of the time, so you just don’t want to waste a bee-yoo-tee-full day! So off we go again.

Along the highway across the inlet, you can see the Ring of Fire volcanoes. Mt. ReDoubt and Mt. Eliamna are the closest. So incredible that God cleared it up for us, because this day is absolutely breath taking! You can see steam rising from the top of the volcanoes.

At Homer, we walked to the lands’ end and bent down and touched the ocean. Picked up a few rocks to bring home. They are black, like river rock, but they have a white stripe running through them.

A while back I decided to forgo the crummy tourist souvenirs and purchase something on a trip that helps us remember the adventure and is worth keeping. We usually decide on a piece of art, or pottery, or something like that. Our bed and breakfast had some whimsical Alaskan pictures that caught my eye, so I asked Dick about them. He said they were by a native Alaskan painter, Barbara Lavallee, and they had purchased them in Homer…so we went to an art gallery in search of some prints. Nabbed one, Tidepool Pals, and had it shipped home.

Dinner in Homer at Captain Pattys. Fresh grilled halibut and clam chowder. Mmmm… can’t get enough of this fresh halibut.

The way back was hazy. It is still daylight, you know, at 11 p.m., but we couldn’t see across the inlet at all. However, we began to see eagles riding the thermals and drifting above us, or simply nesting in trees. On the way home, we saw a Mama Moose, too. I smile as my head hits the pillow.

Alaska from the Back of the Bike, Day 9

2010-10-16T21:35:00.009-05:00

Need to finish the last few days of my vacation log. Have been distracted for a few weeks, but here goes!

Tuesday, June 29

Breakfast at the Lodge. Then we prepared for our salmon fishing, bear watching experience. High Adventure, the outfitters we were going with, recommended bringing a sack lunch, so we stopped at a little sandwich shop and picked up a fully loaded box lunch with a little of everything included.

So we took a float plane over Double Glacier and Cook Inlet to Wolverine Creek to fish for sockeye salmon. The plane landed and pulled up to a flat bottom boat that was anchored to a patch of land in the water about the size of my sofa. We stepped off the plane, into the boat, and motored a little bit further into nowhere. Pulled up to a shallow, rocky creek that was emptying into the lake and threw out the anchor. It was very shallow, and you could see the salmon circling the boat and pooling up at the base of the creek. Nearing the end of their life cycle, they were preparing to swim back up the creek to lay their eggs and die.

Greg. our guide, was very good, and patient. He taught us how to salmon fish by simply throwing out the line and waiting for them to swim through it. (The best part was when they started to fight and splashed around everywhere trying to break the line!) He didn’t get flustered when the other couple in our boat nailed him in the nose with a hook or he had to dive into the water to catch their pole which fell in. I caught the first one fairly soon – about a 4 pounder. We caught our quota – 3 each- but managed to take the rest of the afternoon to do it. However, we ended up with 18.6 lbs of sockeye, which we took to get smoked. Yummmmmm.

While fishing,, a grizzly comes running downstream and dives in to the water after the fish. She was so skinny, you could tell she just recently un-hibernated, woke up, was starving, and trying to fatten herself back up. She hung around the creek all afternoon, occasionally diving in, occasionally actually catching a fish that was starting up the rocky, shallow creek. When the float plane came to pick us up, we flew low over the terrain on the way back. We saw a huge moose with a full rack of antlers, and several more bear. They almost looked like little animal figures someone planted down there for us to see. Hmmm…I wonder.

Oh Happy Day!

Thumbthing Special

2010-09-22T21:19:00.002-05:00

I've developed a great respect for thumbs over the past few weeks, since i haven't been able to use mine. I've made a not-so-exhaustive list of things that are impossible to do without a thumb or two.

1. Close a zip loc bag
2. Pull a cherry stem from the cherry, even holding the cherry in your teeth
3. Button your garments, especially pants
4. Fold towels
5. Push the automatic lock button on my car
6. Turn a doorknob
7. Turn on a water faucet that has to be held continuously for the water to continue flowing out.
8. Unscrew the lid from a jar of jelly
9. Turn the pages of the Bible
10. Put papers on a clipboard.

So tomorrow i am getting my thumb fixed. Catch you later!

Alaska from the Back of the Bike, Day 8

2010-09-12T15:05:00.004-05:00

Monday, June 28
We spent a few hours in Wasilla and Anchorage trying to find a computer virus repair person. Finally gave it up, when several people kept telling us it would take 3 -4 days to clean the hard drive. It only has 7 gigs, for crying out loud. Ipods are bigger than this thing.. I guess my journal will be hand written for the rest of the trip.

Saw a sign along the highway almost to Anchorage that said, “Watch for Moose.” Then started noticing great circular patches of grass that were smushed down by the side of the road, and even in the medians, like a herd of something had been resting there. Later found out that’s where moose are nesting at night.

Loved the ride from Wasilla to Kenai. Finally, it is a sunny after noon! My fav part of the trip was around Turnagain Arm, where salt water flows in and beluga whales are often seen following their food source. We didn’t see any, of course.

Suddenly we are following a river, and the water is a beautiful turquoise color.

This is the Kenai River. Incredible colors.

Got to the Kenai River Raven Inn in Soldotna. We are the only guests here this week. It is a beautiful bed and breakfast. We have a big ol’ garden tub in our room, a private deck, and a view of the river…except you can’t see it very well for the trees. Dick and Stevie, the hosts, are friendly. Dick has lots of good tips for how to spend your time and where to go to see what. He’s the cook, too. Cheese and crackers for dinner, then i think i'll go soak for a while in the tub...glub, glub...

Alaska from the Back of the Bike, Day 7

2010-09-07T22:44:00.006-05:00

Sunday, June 27
Been on the road for a week now. Today is Day 7. Rain again. Traveled from Tok to Wasilla.

The trees look like they belong in the Ewok Forest, or something equally Star Warish. Apparently because of the permafrost, the evergreen grow very tall and very skinny, so they just look really really awkward as far as being a real tree goes. They definitely would look more at home in a sci-fi movie.

Passed more glaciers. Cool how they push so much silt down in front of them, nano-inch by nano-inch by nano-inch.

Got to Wasilla early in the day. We’ve been on a Mexican food fast since we left Texas, so when we drove around Wasilla looking for a place to eat, our bike naturally just turned into a random Mexican food restaurant. It was decently good.

Staying at the Inn at Lake Lucille in Wasilla – so nice. Our room has a view of float planes landing on the lake. So tired I lay down and went to sleep at 7, fully clothed and on top of the bedspread, as soon as we unloaded the bike.

Some time during my nap, I heard Duane mumbling something about a computer virus, so I figured we were doomed. Have been using the Dell notebook to journal the trip every night, and he’s been using it to download his Garmin GPS stuff and make reservations for the next night down the road. Woke up at 10 p.m to shower, then slept til 7 a.m. Woke up finally rested. Tomorrow we reach our resting place for a few days -- the Kenai River Raven Inn in Soldotna.

Alaska from the Back of the Bike, Day 6

2010-09-03T23:51:00.008-05:00

June 26
Breakfast was yummy! Glad the room had a refrigerator so we could have chocolate milk! Went from Whitehorse to Tok today. Right outside of Whitehorse, guess what we saw walking down the road? A white horse. Is that random or what??? Maybe they named the town after him.

It was a beautiful ride, at first. Ice fields stretched down the mountains like long snowy fingers. Loved the blue sky.

Frost heaves were so bad the road was totally torn up. Duane figured out how to ride over them like skiers going sideways over moguls, and it wasn’t so bad when he could do that – pretty ingenious, huh! My neck hurt by the end of the day, though, from all the jolts and bumps, and holding that heavy motorcycle helment on my head. Frost heaves were originally caused when the Alaska Highway was built and the road crews scraped off the permafrost to build the road. Now it freezes and refreezes all the time causing the road to buckle like crazy.

It was extremly windy and so freezing cold around Kluane Lake -- a big, big lake that the road seemed to follow forever around the shoreline.

Stopped for lunch at the visitors center at Beaver Creek. Talked to Ryan, the forest ranger guy inside, and told him my theory about the lupine and bluebonnets. He had never heard of bluebonnets, and i think he didnt' believe me at first....but pulled something up on his computer, and low and behold….they are of the same lupinus family. Duane is proud of the giant potato chip he found.

Went through U.S. Customs. Sigh. So glad to be “home” again. Tired of figuring out the exchange rate, buying gas by the liter, frost heaves, and never knowing the temperature. If you look really close at the picture of the international border, you can see how it is even cut through the mountains and trees in the distance. Stopped for the night at Youngs Motel and split a pizza and salad at Fast Eddys restaurant. It never gets dark now, the days are over 19 hours long. So we just pull the curtains and go to sleep. Saw our first bald eagle today!

Alaska from the Back of the Bike, Day 5

2010-09-02T21:39:00.008-05:00

June25

Left early for Whitehorse, Yukon. Cold and rainy again. Road bumpy with frost heaves and one long stretch of gravel. Ate breakfast at the grocery store, as there is nowhere in Dease Lake to eat and the grocery has a cafe that opens at 7. Heated clothing again. Stopped at Cassiar Mt. Jade Store. Over 90% of worlds jade is mined in the Cassiar Mountains. So I bought a tiny, itsy bitsy little jade star to hang on the Christmas tree as a memory of the trip. It was $30. However, it is simply beautiful.

The road out of Dease Lake was soooo bad. When we finally got to the Junction of the beginning of the Alaska highway, we stopped for gas. There were Johan and Karolina! They had been following us the whole way to make sure we were safe, and they were also just going that way... they saw more bears, but we were so busy concentrating on the road conditions we missed them. aww.

The rest of the day was a mix of cool and rain and sun, but we kept heated jackets on most of the time. Ate a picnic lunch late in the day – it was a buggy lunch. We fought mosquitoes while we sandwiched. Then took a short walk along a boardwalk to Rancheria Falls. Pretty. Keep seeing some flowers that look an awful lot like the Texas Bulebonnet.

Got toWhitehorse and staying in the Skky Inn. Very nice. Dinner at the Klondike Rib & Salmon Barbeque. It is a pretty famous restaurant in these parts, only open part of the year, the wait usually is for hours, and the people line up around the block. We chatted with some friendly people from California while we waited. Duane had ribs and i had a great salad and fish and chips. We ordered Bumbleberry pie al a mode for dessert -- it included apple, rhubarb, blackberry, raspberry, and blueberry. Klondike is a restaurant in a tent, basically. But everything was extraordinarily yummy . Stopped at a grocery store after dinner and got fixin’s for tomorrow’s lunch, as well as chocolate milk and cinnamon rolls for breakfast. We saw Royal Canadian Air Force fighter jets land at the airport across the highway from our hotel. Comfy bed...good night!

Alaska from the Back of the Bike, Day 4

2010-08-31T22:49:00.006-05:00

June 24

Woke up to the sound of rain on a tin roof. Lovely. Left Stewart, BC for who knows where up the Cassiar highway, Hwy 37.

Had a smoked salmon and cream cheese bagel for breakfast. Interesting. Duane did a bacon & egg on english muffin deal. It was cold and rainy. I layered up- not going to get cold today. We couldn't take pictures on the way back because the clouds were hanging so low over the mountains you couldn' t see anything. So glad i got some yesterday! I believe the glacier you can see from the road, the big blue one, is called Bear Glacier. I love how the evergreen look around here-- the needles hang down like long lacey fingers.

We started seeing bear almost immediately - two at a time. A black one and a brown one each time. Got pictures. Duane turned the bike around and we almost came right up on them.

Stopped at a rest stop and ate a homemade turtle we bought from the Bitter Creek Inn last night. It was soooo good. The caramel tasted like a homemade buttery praline.

We didn't go far today. Ended in Dease Lake for a late lunch and just stayed there. The roads were gravel and hard to manuvere. We met a lot of nice people along the way- everyone has stories about what is down the road, weather, conditions, bear, etc. A sweet couple in Bell 2 noticed our Aggie frog togs and struck up a conversation. They were believers. Her first husband was an Aggie. Mosquitoes are terrible when you stop for gas or picnic.

At Dease Lake, a couple from Belgium -- Karolina and Johan --talked to us a lot and showed us pictures of where they had come from. They were very fun-- always standing outside the hotel smoking (and talking) , because it was non smoking inside. Hotel wifi was pathetic, so didn't get to write and can't remember a lot from the day. It was hard to get to sleep though. The days are longer and crawling in bed at 10:00, it is still light outside.

Noreen, the hotel manager, was very kind and let us do a load of laundry, as all our clothes got wet from the rainy day, the water soaking up through the bottom of the bag. The bag sits on a little rack behind the bike. (Did i mention that we didn't bring the trailer this time, so our clothes consist of a couple of pair of jeans, a few long sleeved shirts, fleece, heated clothing, and a few other necessities?)

This beautiful plant is a fuchsia. It was at a restaurant in the most incredible hanging basket you have ever seen!

Tonight Duane gave me another sweet gift for anniversary - a LeeHee necklace that says "before i formed you in the womb, i knew you."

Alaska from the Back of the Bike, Day 3

2010-08-29T22:07:00.019-05:00

June 23

Left Prince George on the Yellowhead Highway after a nice breakfast of Belgium waffles and Sasketchiwan syrup, Canadian bacon, and fruit. Julie, our hostess, has a daughter with brain tumor, so we prayed for her at breakfast. Hope it made a difference.. I get the feeling that Canadians don’t really like Americans though. We are obviously too wasteful and not "green" enough. Tend to blame us for everything that effects North America, especially economically. She was a lovely hostess though. She composts and makes homemade bread. I think she was surprised when i said i compost and make jelly. ha

She ironed our sheets, though, and man were they amazing! Mom used to do that. Her cat, Furry, is beautiful--buff color long hair with blue eyes. Furry has a 9:00 curfew because foxes and other critters eat cats. eww.

Was rainy and chilly off and on all day, so it was uneventful until later. Julie packed us an amazing sack lunch-- ham sandwich on multigrain homemade bread with some sort of garlic butter spread. But we had to eat at an busy rest stop at the side of the highway.

At Gitwangak we saw totem poles, took pics, and headed down the Cassiar highway. I noticed along the way that the back roads are lined with wildflowers, as if they are cheering us on our journey. All kinds -- daisies, lupine, beautiful colors.

So later in the day when i was getting sleepy, Duane yells...a bear is walking across the road! Sure enough, a big one.. i woke up. Later we saw two more smaller ones. One was trying to cross the road and we spooked him. He almost ran right up beside us. I could see the panic in his eyes. The next one popped up as we were driving by and he had a flower stem in his mouth -- looked silly. Impossible to get pictures as we were whizzing by.

Beautiful drive to Stewart, B.C. on remote highway 37 north. One of most scenic drives in North America. We passed towering coastal mountains whose slopes are capped with icefields

and hanging glaciers. It is one of the only places in the world you can see glaciers from your vehicle. Blue glaciers that were visible from the road.

Water falls cascading down mountains in streaks, canyons.

So we got to Stewart and were chilled to the bone a bit. Found our hotel. Quaint and simple. Eclectic. The Ripley Creek Inn. Slate floors again, but this time, not heated.

We ate a wonderful dinner at the Bitter Creek Cafe. I had an amazing halibut dish dredged in pistachio nuts, with baby potatoes and veggies. Duane had fried halibut shrimp cakes. yummmmmm. We topped it off with chocolate panna cotta layer cake. It was sooooo good. We totally splurged, but loved it all.

A quaint anniversary dinner in an old hotel... Our waitress, Ceebraun was friendly and cute. We enjoyed talking to her. Her step mom owns the restaurant and Cee is engaged to a guy in New Zealand and just came for the summer to help out.

Loved today. Simply loved it.

Alaska from the Back of the Bike, Continued

2010-08-28T10:07:00.018-05:00

June 22

Left Whistler --took a beautifully scenic route, but slow going. The Canadian Rockies are enormous. beautiful. Where there was water, it was either rushing so fast it was blowing spray everywhere, or so still you could see the mountains reflection in it. Some places it was so deep it was a dark bluegreen.

British Columbia is beautiful.

We think people keep cheating us out of our money, though, with the exchange rates. And we have no idea how fast we are going or how hot or cold it is due to our ignorance of the metric system. :) Pretty towns everywhere - Pemberton, Williams Lake, Lilloooet -- quaint, quiet, historic. Staying at the Arbor Bed and Breakfast in Prince George, a basement apt in a private home. Our day was long. Left early. Got in at 8 p.m.

I thought the wildflowers the bear was eating last evening might be holly hocks, larkspur, or delphinium, but Julie at our bed and breakfast says they are lupine. I think she’s wrong, though. She also says the mountains are not the Rockies, but the Coastal Mts. I think she's probably right on that one.

We had a nice picnic lunch in Clinton, a little town along the way with a little park and duck pond.

Today we saw dandelions the size of tennis balls, beautiful wildflowers growing everywhere along the roads. Read Psalm 48 before we left, and kept the last verse with us as we rode...for this God is our God for ever and ever. He will be our guide even to the end.

Alaska from the Back of the Bike

2010-08-27T21:44:00.003-05:00

I figured I’d better blog something lest I be banned from blogsville for eternity, so I found some of my vacation notes and decided to post them. Duane and I had high adventure and the sweetest blessing this year, for our 35th anniversary celebration, of taking a motorcycle trip to Alaska. Here are some o f my musings. A diary of sorts, you might say, penned along the way…mostly.

June 21
Duane shipped the bike to Seattle earlier in June, so the first leg of our trip consisted of flying to Seattle to find it. Today is Elli’s birthday. Kari called on the way to the airport so we could sing happy birthday to Elli before we forget. Asked her how old she is and she said, "i two". Our friend, Tom Riley, was nice enough to drop us off at the airport so we didn’t have to pay two weeks of parking.

Plane had mechanical probs so they got a new one from hangar and we were about an hour late. Met a guy named Brian who was flying with his cat, Cleopatra, from Florida. He tried to be subtly rude when he found out we liked George W. Bush, by saying we probably loved the movie Dazed and Confused and watched King of the Hill for our favorite show. I think he was lonely and awkward…obviously if he was traveling with a CAT, right? And he obviously had a stereotyped image of Texans. Also met a cute couple, Melanie and Sean who got married in Huntsville State Park yesterday in 95 degree temp. They were all smiles and said everything was perfect and it even got cloudy and cooler before ceremony.

Greg and Janet Beeker picked us up from airport. So nice. Duane shipped his bike to Greg's garage and he stored it for him, just because Goldwing people do stuff like that for each other. We took them to Red Robin for a late lunch and then got a late start.

Canadian border guards don’t like Texans, i think. Duane got frisked and we got detained mysteriously, and the bike searched. They asked Duane a lot of questions about having a handgun license and why he needed it. He told them he left the gun at home, but they searched the bike anyway.

Pretty cold on bike. Layers didn't help a lot this evening. Ride was pretty - mountains and glacier dug lakes. Pretty trees - i think they are ruby slippered dogwood. Lots of mauve and white and blue wildflowers. I think are holly hocks. Or delphinium. Saw a black bear outside of Whistler, eating purple delphinium. Stayed in Whistler at an Olympic village type community, the Sundial Boutique. So pretty/ great lodge and verrrrry comfy bed! The slate floor in the bathroom was heated. Nice and warm on my tootises.

Duane gave me a dogwood charm for a necklace and our anniversary. I smile as my head hits the pillow.

Steve and Buford, Warrior Angels

2010-05-02T15:14:00.003-05:00

I don’t believe in wimpy angels. I believe in warrior angels. You notice in the Bible when an angel appears to someone, the first thing he says is, “Do not be afraid.” Think about that a little bit! Those are the kind of angels I want protecting me!

Here’s the story.

Two directionally challenged little old ladies awaiting a morning flight out to Houston, were stuck overnight in a strange city (Atlanta), following a three day conference. But we (me and friend, Stephanie) discovered a wonderful thing – the Astros were playing the Braves that very night at Turner Field... with Friday Night Fireworks to follow!

Sooooo….adventuresome duo that we were….we decided to save ourselves a twenty dollar taxi ride and catch all sorts of mass transit (hereto after called Marta) to the stadium…both ways. Praying first for protection, and the company of angels, off we went. First take the hotel shuttle to the airport. Then hop on Marta, some sort of partially underground express bullet light rail train thingy, to the hub at 5 Points station. Then disembark and wind our way through Underground Atlanta with its mixture of tattoo and piercing parlors (a little bit scary even in daylight), faithfully following the “Braves Shuttle” signs to a Marta City Bus that deposited us at the corner of Abernathy and Pollard…right in front of the stadium. PIECE OF CAKE.

On our grand adventure we saw, stalked, got a picture of, and actually touched the Braves legend Tom Glavine as he departed from the press box; Stephanie, cheering enthusiastically, almost got punched out by a punk 20 year old Braves fan in need of anger management classes; and I almost caught a t shirt thrown into the crowd by Jane, the blond and overly smiley Braves drill team personality. So after a wonderful time, but not so wonderful game, it was quite late and time to head home. In the dark.

PIECE OF CAKE IN REVERSE. Quick prayer for protection and company of angels. Uh…find Abernathy and Pollard. Board Marta City Bus. Pray we don’t have to walk through the Atlanta Underground alone. Board the Marta light rail thingy at 5 Points station. Return to airport. Board hotel shuttle back to hotel. PIECE OF CAKE, sort of.

Sitting on a concrete bench in the subway, or whatever it was, with 19 minutes until arrival of the Marta train, we began to notice there weren’t many little old ladies like us in the neighborhood. 18 minutes to go. We looked up and there stood two tall, very muscular, gentlemen sporting crew cuts and Braves t shirts a few feet from our bench. They weren’t really talking, just sort of standing there very straight and tall. 17 minutes. 16. 15. 12. Never flinching or moving, not even their heads, they occasionally appeared to be scanning the area as they stood there. They literally never moved. Just their eyes scanned, side to side, as a variety of neighborhood characters strolled by. 3 minutes. 2 minutes. 45 seconds. Stephanie and I stood up to move towards the expected train. They followed.

The door we were headed for was pretty crowded, so I turned quickly and headed to a different one. Stephanie, seeing the gentlemen heading a different direction, said out loud, “We just lost our angels,” then turned around and they were boarding the train immediately behind her. By this time we were smiling.

The train was so crowded, we had to stand. They stood behind us.
After a few stops, people got off and we found seats. They sat behind us.
We were still smiling.

The very last stop was the airport. It was just about midnight. We were kind of just dumped out on a platform and left to figure out where in the world to go from there. We went one way, then circled back, when one of our angels (I’ll call him, Steve) asked us how to get to the hotel shuttles. (Asked us? HA!) Redirected, we followed him down an escalator and chatted briefly. His friend, (I’ll call him, Buford, in honor of the Buford Highway that we passed everyday on the way to the conference), never said a word. Not one word.

Told him we were from Houston and had been to the game tonight. He said they were from San Antonio. We asked, “Military?” He said, “When you’ve been in as long as we have, it’s hard to hide it.” Asked him what hotel he was staying at, so we could help find the right shuttle. Hmmmm…he couldn’t remember at all.

At the bottom of the escalator, we turned to find the restrooms. They stood there watching until we disappeared. We still haven’t stopped smiling.

Psalm 91: 11 – 12 For He will give His angels charge concerning you, to guard you in all your ways. They will bear you up in their hands that you do not strike your foot against a stone.

The Warrior is a Child

2010-04-06T18:04:00.002-05:00

"Be Strong in the Lord and in the power of His Might." Ephesians 6:10

"Blessed is the one whose strength is the Lord" Psalm 84:5

"Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified. For the Lord your God is with you wherever you go." Joshua 1:9

Just sayin' it's o.k. to be in this place, too.

They don't know that I go running home when I fall down

They don't know who picks me up when no one is around

I drop my sword and cry for just a while

'Cause deep inside this armor
The warrior is a child.

Stuff I've Been Thinking About, Part 2

2010-03-28T21:32:00.002-05:00

Discipling your children. HOW?
It is not easy.
In fact, it is exhausting.
It requires being fully surrendered.
It requires putting yourself last. Dead last. Rick Warren was not kidding when he said, “It’s not about you.”
It requires sacrificial parenting -- At a minimum, 18 years worth – at the very least. And that is per child.
It requires focus on the goal – with the goal being godly kids/raising up worshippers for His Name.
It sometimes requires redefining everything. Do you want your kids to be happy or do you want them to be holy? Do you want your kids to be successful, or do you want them to be godly.

When the Bible states to TRAIN UP a child…I think of when I learned how to ride a bike. When I was 9, they only made one size bicycle—adult. I didn’t get it the first time. I had to be trained to balance, trained to pedal, trained to do them both at the same time, trained not to panic, trained to use the brakes instead of jumping off. It didn’t’ happen for me overnight. My Mom claims she ran hundreds of miles behind that bike holding it steady during this difficult time in my life...It took days of training and practicing to finally get it.

Discipling, and training – we’re in it for the long haul.

I just spent time at my daughter's, helping with baby Leala who just arrived into the world. Kari has Titus, who is three, Eliana, who is 20 months, and a newborn. But I watched them patiently train their kids in different areas while I was there. Titus is very compliant, mostly. Elli is just a mess, though. And not for lack of training. She doesn’t like to eat, and she doesn’t like to take naps. She’s just one of those unique little strong willed things. Because of her diagnosis, her parents are careful to keep her healthy and on track physically because of the unknowns. However, at 18 months, she weighed only 18 pounds. They do everything “right”, and she just some days decides not to eat. They say, “One more bite” and she (very cutely, I might add), throws her hands over her mouth. Well, she’s not doing it to be funny, it’s just defiance. So Danny takes her to the back room, away from the table, and “trains “ her. Titus looks at me and says matter-of-factly, “Anya (his pronunciation of Eliana) isn’t obeying, is she Nanna?” But because they love Elli, and Elli needs to eat, and more than that, Elli needs to obey – Elli gets trained.

Are they tired? Yes. Are they exhausted? Yes. But they cannot quit training for the physical and spiritual health of their children. (A child’s job is to obey his parents…we must train our kids to obey.)

THREE MAIN THINGS about discipling your kids that I want to leave with you.
1. LOVE THE WORD.
It totally starts with here with you. Immerse yourself in it. Know it, live it, obey it, read it. Hide it in your heart. Meditate on it. Draw strength from it. Make it a priority. Do you have a plan for that?

a. Bathe your kids in scripture. God commands parents, “These words I have given you shall be in your heart. Teach them to your children as you”….wake and sleep and walk by the way, and play catch in the backyard and drive through the take out window at Chick Fil A. The Israelites incorporated God into every aspect of life. So, use scripture as a part of your everyday life and language. Let your kids see you reading the Bible, loving the Word, and it making a difference in your life. Read the Bible out loud as you rock your child in the morning and have a few quiet minutes together. Post it in your house and on your walls. Post a verse a week on your refrigerator or car dashboard to memorize together. Put a Bible in bed with them, so when they wake up it is the first thing they see. Read scripture over your children as they sleep.

b. Recognize the POWER in the word of God. Use scripture so it is a part of your every day life and language. Use it to encourage not to be punitive. My favorite scripture always was “Do all things without murmuring and complaining.” But instead of beating them over the head with it, you guide with it – “The Bible instructs us to do all things without murmuring and complaining. Do you understand what that means?" After discussing, you then say, “In five minutes it will be time to pick up the toys.” Then encourage them rightly by pointing out how God helped them obey.

c. Pray the Word. (nothing gets the attention of the Father faster than when He hears His word repeated back to Him.)

Father, the Bible says we should pray and not give up. (Luke 18:1) Help Nathan to persevere as he practices baseball and learns how to catch fly balls.

Father, your word says that “Our love must not be just words and talk, but true love which shows itself in action." Thank you for Emily, who showed true love to me by helping me feed and walk the dog.

Children are a blessing of the Lord. Thank you Father that Luke obeyed today and ate his lunch. Luke is a blessing to us.

The catch – you must know scripture, to be able to teach your kids to pray scripture. HIDE IT IN YOUR HEART. You have to be purposeful. Teach it when they rise up and when they lie down. Teach it when they walk in the way.

2. TEACH DOCTRINE and biblical truth to your children daily, so that it penetrates to the core of their being and the very fiber of their heart. Teach it daily, so it becomes a part of who they are and what they believe so deeply that in times of testing their theology is sure and cannot be shaken.
You have to know what you believe and want to teach about God in order to disciple your children. And better to have this hammered out now, so that your theology doesn’t have to be hammered out years later in hospital waiting rooms or funeral homes. Better to fix your hope now on “God is good” than to have to conjure it up when you scarcely can breathe for the pain.

Start with one of two of these and repeat them throughout your day… as you wake and sleep and lie down and break bread together and walk in the park. Or pick another doctrine that you hold fast to, and start there.
a. God made everything. (Easy conversation when you see a rainbow or a sunset, or a dog or a baby or a bug, etc.)
b. God is good. Easy conversation when you are helping your child get dressed and say “God gave us clothes to wear. God is good. “ or when daddy leaves for work, “God gave daddy a job he loves. God is good.”
c. We can talk to God. (Pray without ceasing along with your kids. We can talk to God any time, any where.)
d. God is in charge of everything. If rain interrupts a trip to the park, explain that it’s o.k. because God is in charge of everything and the flowers need the rain to grow. Or if a friend cannot come over to play, explain that it’s o.k. because God is in charge of everything and has a better plan for the afternoon. When you read Bible stories, such as Noah, repeat that God is in charge of everything, and He had a plan for Noah and his family

3. EMBRACE WORSHIP
Children learn to worship by watching their parents worship. They learn to pray by watching their parents pray. They learn to give by watching their parents give, and they learn to serve by watching their parents serve. When worship is an obvious joy to parents, it will be to their children as well. Weave it into every aspect of living – a morning prayer time every morning. Or a family worship before bedtime – read a Children’s Bible story book, chapter at a time.

I said earlier that this requires sacrifice and surrender and a change of focus.. And it does. But it doesn’t have to be hard. Just begin by falling in love with Jesus. Your kids will notice. (I told Titus how kind his Dad was by cleaning up the kitchen one night and he answered, “My Daddy loves Jesus.” At age three, he just knew it -- it was natural. )

And walk with God. Be astonished at His greatness and ability to teach you to raise your children in His Nurture and Admonition. Afterall, we are called to raise up worshippers to His Name. and everything I learned about parenting , I learned from how He parents me.

Stuff I've Been Thinking About

2010-03-26T17:08:00.003-05:00

I was asked to speak at our MOMs (Mothers of Many Seasons) group at church and this is what came out... My topic was supposed to be "age appropriate Bible teaching for children." It morphed into "Discipling your children." Sort of the same thing, isn't it?

In the book, Sacred Parenting, Gary L. Thomas states “the best reason for having children is so simple that it may not seem very profound: God commanded us to have children (Genesis 1:28). It’s his desire that we ‘be fruitful and increase in number,’ and this fruitfulness includes raising spiritually sensitive children who will serve God and work for the glory of His kingdom on earth.”

God’s first commission to man was to “be fruitful and multiply”. Jesus last commission to His followers was to “Go and make disciples”. Think about the commonality of those. Side by side, the Old Testament command of be fruitful and multiply and the New Testament command to make disciples almost have the same ring to them. Dr. Leiderback, a professor at Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary, teaches in his Ethics of Marriage and Family course, that parents have a calling to fulfill these commandments and to raise up worshippers for His Name.

How is that working for you?

Teaching the Bible to children has been the calling of my life since I was 28 years old, when on April 1 1982 – unbeknownst to me-- the Lord called me into preschool ministry. I thought I was just doing something because no one else would take on the recently vacated “nursery coordinator” position in our little church, and my best friend looked at me and said -- “I’ll do it, if you’ll do it!” So we started down an incredible path 28 years ago sort of clueless like the disciples who left everything to follow Him when Jesus said, "Follow me and I will make you to become…" Would they have done it if they fully understood the cost, or the path He called them to? They had no idea at the time, what following Jesus meant—but still began an interesting journey.

I can draw a parallel there. Especially the clueless part.

Not long after that, the Lord gave me Romans 11:29 –" the gifts and the calling of God are irrevocable." And in the days when I have been more than ready to pack it up and leave it behind, (and there have been many), this Truth has literally riveted me to His calling…and I cannot go. After all, what could be more important than teaching the Bible to children on their level of development? What could be more important than introducing them to their Creator and Savior?

So not long after THAT, the Lord gave me the purpose statement of preschool ministry - -Isaiah 54:13 ..."and all your children will be taught of the Lord, and great will be the peace of your children." But enough about me.

Voddie Baucham, a local pastor, revealed a startling statistic a few years ago when he stated that by the end of their freshman year in college, 77% of church kids have deserted their faith. If that is true, i submit to you that something is broken.

We are all over age- appropriate Bible teaching at church. We do a good job. But one hour a week on Sunday morning obviously just doesn’t get the job done. Church was not meant to take on the spiritual training of children, but to supplement the spiritual teaching of the home.
Because for children, the home is at the very center of biblical instruction. There is very little scriptural evidence of children being taught primarily in the tabernacle, synagogue or temple. The home was the school of faith. The churches of those times supported the work of the home, not the other way around. No amount of Christian school, Sunday School, or church influenced childcare and weekday education can replace the primary impact of the home on a child’s spiritual development.

I have begun to see that this is where the system is broken. Because many parents either do not understand their responsibility, or have given it over to the church. I, in fact, did the same thing.

One day when my girls were little, I was driving to a Bible Study at church, or maybe it was a hand bell or ensemble practice, or maybe a preschool committee meeting or a fellowship. (We were always in the car on the way to church, it seemed.) The girls were working on learning our street address at the time, so I asked, “Where do you live?” Kari, about 4 at the time, replied point blank, in her little four year old voice, “At chuch.” I laughed and tickled her tummy and called her silly, but the truth of what she just said pierced me.

Never again in all my life would I have the opportunity to disciple someone like I had the opportunity to disciple those two little lives buckled into the back seat. Never in my life would I again have the time to invest in another person like these two little ones God had put in my own backyard. Was I spending so much time away from them for MY OWN spiritual growth or connection or other events that I was squandering/neglecting the very ministry (motherhood) that the Lord had called me to? Was I depending on the teachers at church to raise them “in the nurture and admonition of the Lord? Was I really leaving their learning to someone else so much so that my daughter would think she lived “at chuch”? I immediately made some lifestyle changes for my family and my children.

I was an education major, and teaching was natural for me. I was always leaning towards using the child development i studied in college and thinking up developmentally appropriate activities for us to do at home. (My kids told their friends that they knew how to scrub a bathroom before they were 7, and it probably was true!) Some things required radical adjustments on our part, though.

I was influenced and intrigued greatly at that time by Anne Ortlund’s book, Children are Wet Cement – the first book I had ever come across that advocated discipling your children. And more recently by Raising Kids for True Greatness by Dr. Tim Kimmel, and Teaching Kids Authentic Worship by Kathleen Chapman.

That's all for now. But stay tuned for part 2.

Heartfriends

2010-02-25T20:18:00.001-06:00

These are the words from the little piece of stationey that Vergie pressed into my hand:

Heartfriends

How generous is God that He has given me these few and special women who are the true friends of my heart. How He must love me that He has let us find each other upon this crowded earth.

We are drawn to each other as if by some mystical force. We recognize each other at once. We are sisters of the spirit, who understand each other instinctively.

There is no blood between us, no common family history. Yet there are no barriers of background or even age. Older, younger, richer, poorer…no matter, we speak the same language.

We have come together in a special moment of time and the sense of union we feel will last throughout eternity. How generous is God that He has given me so many other women I can call friends. Dear, good, life-enriching women who add flavor, value, and delight. I would be the poorer without them.

Yet surely, God’s true concern for us, His children, is to lead us to these rare and special few. The ones who call out to us from the crowds, who hold fast to us through trials, triumphs, long separations.

The friends with whom the heart feels joyfully at home.

Unchanged

2010-02-24T00:21:00.003-06:00

A sacred thing happened to me this year. I reconnected with an old friend from college.

It just always seemed that we were meant to be friends, the way the tapestry of our lives was woven together. We used to say of our friendship that it just must have been in our jeans. (Was that because we became friends in the seventies, before wearing jeans 24/7 was readily accepted except in the circle of semi-quasi-Christian-hippies we hung around with? Or was it our passive aggressive way of dealing with the sorority chicks strutting the campus in their high heels and mini skirts?)

So whether it was in our jeans, or in our genes, we knew the moment we became friends that there was something preciously God-ordained about our connection. There simply was. And before graduation, Vergie pressed into my hand a folded piece of stationery with words that summed us up quite nicely – "Heart Friends."

We stayed in touch some after college. Vergie was in my wedding party, and afterwards left town with my pink bamboo Hawaiian dishes that were fairly nauseating, but cleverly “Art Nouveau” at the same time. They had never even been opened when my mom bought them (cheap) at a garage sale so I would have dishes in my college apartment. Some poor man had bought them for his wife while he was in the army and on leave in Hawaii, and she hated them…that was the story. I couldn’t BELIEVE my own mom just gave them to her without asking me, but I got over it since I didn’t particularly like them either. Besides, it was Vergie.

Vergie even lived across town in Houston for a while, and we managed a few trips to see each other when the kids were little. We occasionally sent Christmas cards. Occasionally called. But life got busy and we lost touch mostly. I heard about her sometimes through mutual friends. So when I found that little piece of stationery in her handwriting that reminded me of why we connected deeper and on a core level, I kept it where I could read it over and over.

Then about this time a year ago, totally out of the blue, I got a comment on a blog post from my long lost Vergie. We have added approximately 35 years of living since college graduation, I think. However, the tapestry of our lives is still woven together by threads of faith and commonality. She has lost a precious son. I have lost my precious Dad. We started keeping up with each other a bit more.

So Saturday, I was flying out the door to drive up to East Texas for a memorial service for another friend’s father. Took a chance and shot Vergie an email – coming to your town- if you get this in time, call me and let’s grab a coke. My cell rang almost immediately.

I went by her house, we had a cup of soup together, went to the memorial service together, chatted familiarly along the way. Both when we saw each other for the first time, and when it was time to go, we hugged and held on tight, like friends who just needed to be reassured that it was indeed each other in the flesh. Vergie sent me home with a pot of her heirloom jade plant , a cutting of pencil cactus, and something interesting that she called “Moses in a Basket”. I promised to bring her a hanging basket of widow’s tears next time I blew through her town.

Has it really been that long since we’ve seen each other? You would never know. Things have changed, certainly. But there was still something preciously unchanged and God-ordained about our connection. There simply was.

I guess when it’s in your jeans, you just pick it back up where you left off. And anyways, how could you not be friends with someone named “Vergie”?

Tomorrow – Heart Friends.

Mr. Tom's Nativity

2009-12-21T22:10:00.005-06:00

I prepared an “optional” game for the kids that came to our really fun preschool teacher’s Christmas party last night. It was entitled “FIND THE NATIVITY SCENES” and the object of the game was to wander through the house and write down all the Nativity Scenes that you see. Because, you see, as I was decorating for Christmas I suddenly realized that there were at least 17 different Nativity Scenes of some sort around the house. Simple enough. Or so I thought.

Here is one.

And another one.

And another.

But here is one that my friend, Mr. Tom thought he found.

Don’t you think that is stretching it a little? He thought i was trying to sneak one by him...right there between the muscadine jelly and the Christmas cactus. Honestly, Mr. Tom. Maybe he had just read my story about Baby Jesus in a Walnut Shell, and was going for Baby Jesus in an Acorn.

The Gift

2009-12-21T11:12:00.002-06:00

Grief is powerful.

Ten years ago in early December, my Dad went Home. I remember that first Christmas, how I was ambushed by waves of grief when I least expected it. Like one day in Dillards, when O HOLY NIGHT, Dad’s favorite Christmas song, came over the loudspeaker, and I had no where to turn from the raw and painful emotions. I hid in the clothes rack for a while, then just finally handed the sales clerk my purchase with tears streaming down my face, and no explanation on my lips.

Or like when we went to see Mom, and I would go in Dad’s closet when no one was looking, so I could hold his clothes up to my face and breathe in that wonderful, sweet, rugged Dad aroma. Dad smelled so good. So familiar. I could just stand there and breathe deeply and actually still smell him. Something so tangible I could hold on to...so I could remember him.

You never knew when it would just come over you from nowhere. A song, a smell, a child’s laugh, anything precious could trigger it without warning. Yet as time began to heal the painfulness of absence, it happened less. Mom eventually cleaned out Dad’s closet. Time passed. Things changed.

But back to the gift.

Duane brought it home from work this week. A navy blue Mr. Rogers sweater of Dad’s. Mom gave it to Duane during the closet cleaning era, and Duane kept it at his office in case he ever needed to warm up at work. He said he didn’t’ know what to do with it so he brought it home -- had rarely worn it and needed the closet space now. I held the folded sweater up to my face. Inhaled. Remembered . After ten years, surprisingly, unmistakably...it still smelled like Dad.

You never realize the things you will miss the most -- their smell, their voice, their handwriting…. The things that you can no longer have once they cross over.

But this Christmas, I received a gift.

Baby Jesus in a Walnut Shell

2009-12-14T22:59:00.005-06:00

My daughter, Kari, called this week with this question:
“Mom, would you be upset if I used “Baby Jesus in a Walnut Shell” as a White Elephant gift?

Sigh. I remember the very night she made Baby Jesus in a Walnut Shell. She was four. It was at Joys of Christmas, a wonderful child focused Christmas celebration at the little church we went to. My best friend and I were preschool and children’s ministers and Joys was our solution to beginning the Christmas season focused on the biblical celebration of His birth. It was an evening of untold wonder, capped by the Hanging of the Green worship service where the focus continued on the children, who with their families participated fully in the evening worship, and decorated the church for Christmas.

“I guess not, sweetie. But…do you really want to…I remember the very night you made it.”

“Exactly. You remember it. I don’t. And don’t you still have another one?”

“Yes. I just hot glued the other Baby Jesus in a walnut shell’s bonnet back on last night.”

“Mom! That’s the point. Baby Jesus didn’t have a bonnet.”

Sigh. “Whatever. It’s yours.”

The next day I got this text: Titus found Baby Walnut Jesus and would like to hang him on his tree in his room. (Titus is three) Thought that would make you smile.

Then thirty minutes later, this text: Now he is hanging walnut Jesus on Elli’s pigtails. o.k. walnut is a keeper.

Hope your Christmas is a keeper, and likewise makes you smile.

Things that make me Happy - Part 4

2009-12-07T20:56:00.005-06:00

Snow. In Texas.

Houston

December 4, 2009

Favorite parts of the day:

1. Picking jalapenos in the snow.

2. Sitting on patio with a bowl of chili, watching it come down.

3. Seeing a car full of teenagers stop in front of the house, hearing all this commotion in the front yard, going outside to see what they were doing, and finding:

I could hardly wipe the smile off my face all day long.

Saying Good-bye

2009-11-09T08:07:00.004-06:00

Took my eighty-two year old mom to say good bye to her best friend of fifty years. We were hoping they could sit in the porch swing with a cup of coffee like they used to, chatting and laughing, patting each others hands, and wrapping up any loose ends or words that needed to be said. But Miss Dorothy quickly and suddenly grew worse, and when we got there she was unresponsive, no longer able to sit, or speak, or stay awake for very long…or maybe even recognize those gathered around her.

My Mom is a remarkable woman. She believes that dying is just another chapter of living, and that it will be o.k., and it is good. So, she still gathered her best friend up in her heart and forged through their good bye single-handedly. Mom sat on the bed and kissed her forehead, told her she loved her so very much, asked her to squeeze her hand if she knew who she was. Miss Dorothy never took her eyes off of mom, and squeezed her hand.

Miss Dorothy’s family moved across the street from our family in 1959. She and Mom became fast friends, as we tend to do with those who we grow up through life with. They had coffee breaks twice a day – at 10 and 3. At ten, to give them some get up and go for the house cleaning chores lying before them, and at three, to shore them up for the afternoon ….before the school bus delivered us kids back home again. So sitting on the bed by her best friend, Mom told stories about those early marriage days, the kids shenanigans, and how in the world they survived it all! The day Miss Dorothy’s son slammed his finger in the door and severed it, and Mom picked it up, wrapped it in a paper towel and took him to the doctor to have it sewn back on because Miss Dorothy didn’t have a car. The day Miss Dorothy’s skinny little two –year old daughter climbed up on the kitchen table and ate 7 bananas, and by the time they discovered her, her little belly was pooching out so unimaginably bloated! The day Miss Dorothy’s oldest daughter, my brother, and I decided to dig a swimming pool in our backyard and my brother got hit in the head with the shovel and had to go get stitches. Mom chatted and laughed, and patted Miss Dorothy’s hand.

Mom and Miss Dorothy have been friends for fifty years, yet thirty-nine of those years, their friendship was long distance. Miss Dorothy still lives in the same little house, but my Dad got transferred to Dallas, then to Memphis, then retired to Paris. Yet they remained best friends.

Mom bent down and whispered in her friends ear, “ You are my forever friend. You know that, don’t you?” Then she said out loud, “Dorothy, can I pray for you?” Dorothy nodded her head- it was a very definite response. My Mom thanked the Lord for her friend, and their long and good friendship. She committed her to heaven, asked the Lord to walk her home. Then instead of saying goodbye, she said, “Wait for me at the eastern gate. I’ll be there soon. You’re just going to beat me home.”

She told Miss Dorothy that she didn’t want to wear her out, and she looked tired. Mom knew that hospice had just given her some pain medication that was making her sleepy. Mom told her that we’d go get a bite to eat, and come back to see her again before we had to leave town. So we did.

When we returned after about an hour-and-a half, Mom asked if Dorothy was asleep. Her daughter said that she hadn’t shut her eyes since we left. I believe that she fought through the medicine to be able to see Mom one last time. So we left them alone this time, to wrap up any loose ends and say whatever words were left to be said.

It wasn’t at all the way we hoped it would be. But when you have a best friend for fifty years, you do whatever you have to do to send her on her way in peace. Dying is afterall, just another part of living. And it will be o.k. And it is good.

1 Thessalonians 4:13 But we do not want you to be uninformed, brethren, about those who are asleep, so that you will not grieve as do the rest who have no hope.

A Texas-sized Rooster

2009-11-01T14:56:00.004-06:00

My dear husband jumped in whole-heartedly to "Trunk or Treat", our church's newly revised fall festival. In its simplest form, the point is to decorate your car's trunk, and sit beside it in the church parking lot passing out candy as kids walk by. So here ya go ---

Life is fun!

Things that make me Happy - Part 3

2009-10-20T23:33:00.005-05:00

Widow's Tears (Achimenes)

These flowers leave me speechless. They date back to the early 1900’s, and belonged to my great grandmother, Ida Mae Gulley. My mom, who is 82, remembers them in flower pots and some in hanging baskets on the big long front porch (and the screened in back porch) of the old white farmhouse where she was raised in southeast Oklahoma. When my grandmother, Jodie Elizabeth Ingram, went to be with Jesus in 1968, and my parents were cleaning out the old house to sell it, my Dad found one dried up old flower pot stuck behind a door like a door stop, in the dining room. Dad, a horticulture major at Oklahoma A & M (now OSU) thought he knew what they were, and decided to take them home and give it a try…

TA-DA!

Every spring and summer they bloom profusely. Every winter they die back and spend the cold weather months reproducing in the garage. So every spring, we have to re-pot them, and there are more and more baskets to give away. My family has probably given away hundreds of baskets of Widows Tears to friends throughout the years.

These flowers are a part of our lives now. When our kids were each about seven months old, I dressed them up in the same little yellow Feltman Brothers bubble, and took a picture of them in the same little children's rocking chair at my parents house, with the same big pot of widows tears growing in the background. One Christmas my sweet husband went to a lot of creative trouble, found the photos, and had them framed together for the best present ever.

My friend, Marjorie, said she remembers these growing wild in her native Jamaica, so I gave her a hanging basket last year. No one else I know has ever seen them.

My widow’s tears never look as good as Dad’s did, being that he not only had a green thumb, but a green arm as well. But this was the best year ever for them. Aren’t they amazing?

Things that make me Happy - Part 2

2009-10-15T21:39:00.002-05:00

Girls who love to cook in fancy jewelry

Things that make me Happy - Part 1

2009-10-12T20:50:00.007-05:00

I have decided to write a new blog series entitled "Things that make me Happy!" Feel free to look for subsequent posts in the coming days.

THINGS THAT MAKE ME HAPPY - PART 1

My Mom loving Titus.

Eighty years difference, but mysteriously bound by mind-boggling love...

A Virtual Blogging Disaster

2009-10-06T20:16:00.003-05:00

I admit it. I am a virtual blogging disaster. I blog, oh, maybe once a month....maybe. I really don't want to waste your time reading if i don't really have something blogworthy to say or reveal or comment about. So perhaps that explains why i don't blog except maybe once a month. Life can be so status quo around Houston.

So i won't bore you with how busy life has been since August. But i WILL eventually upload pics of our mid-September party, where all the kids and grandkids and my little mama converged at my house in Houston for a few days...so Mom could meet Elli for the first time and i could use the occasion as an excuse to get everyone together... Eventually, i said. I really will. Maybe soon.

Dr. Nick

2009-08-27T21:40:00.003-05:00

This is my son-in-law.

Isn't he distinguished?

He is a doctor.
Today is his 30th birthday.
Happy birthday, Dr. Nick!

A little poetry is good for the soul

2009-08-21T00:23:00.003-05:00

This is one of my mom's favorite poems. I had it read at our wedding. Just wanted to refresh myself on it's simplicity and truth...it becomes more clear as we continue our journey.

"This loving you is, then, of all things, earthly.
You are a part of everything i know-
of color, and of laughter,
and of seasons,
of sea and star,
and of the winds that blow."
Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Miss Elli

2009-07-23T21:10:00.006-05:00

Do you see a trend?

Word Verification

2009-06-25T23:42:00.002-05:00

Many of us have Word Verification activated on our blogs, to prevent something… I don’t know what, but it seems like a reasonable thing to activate in order to protect your blog from unimaginable who knows what. However, when I was commenting on a friend’s blog tonight, my word verification was “KWOOPY”.

Now I wasn’t an English major, but really now – is KWOOPY a word? If so, then use it in a sentence. My kid has a kwoopy little cough? How can you verify a word that isn’t a word?

So then for fun, I pretended like I was commenting on other blogs, so I could check out my theory that word verification is a total farce. BINGO! My next five words, no kidding, were
bathesc
ponpadoo
pediti
qaucke
aazoti

Bathesce – the essence of a warm, soothing bath?
Ponpadoo – gotta be a 1950’s style hair do
Pediti – sounds like an itty bitty foot
Qaucke – can you even have a q not followed by a u?
Aazoti – maybe a new type of pasta?

My conclusion? Word verification is a left wing conspiracy to usurp the fundamentals of English. There can be no other valid assumption.

Two-fer

2009-06-21T17:07:00.006-05:00

Today is a two-fer. It is Father's Day. And it is also my grandbaby's first birthday. So a short word about both, for the record.

1. Father's Day:

I love my husband. He's mostly pretty much a mess, but he keeps our lives interesting. I know he completes me, because we are so totally opposite in about every way imagineable. But despite the ways the Lord uses him to build character in me, he is loving and generous and funny (sometimes) and adventuresome. He is even getting better at bringing me flowers - just because! He's a good dad, and an even better grandfather (or Baba, as Titus would call him.) Here's to you, hon. Happy Father's Day!

I miss my Dad. There was something almost magical about his blue eyes, they always seemed to twinkle with life...even to the end. His life was marked by unconditional love and patience that was beyond measure. His Father's Days were marked by lunch at El Chico every year, because WE loved Mexican food. (He didn't.) One of his favorite sayings was, "the joy is in the journey!" and he and mom lived it out. He finished well. Here's to you, Dad. Happy Father's Day! You simply beat us home.

2. Elli:

And now, Miss Elli! Happy birthday! It has been one interesting year for us because of you! You have stolen our hearts, and you grace our lives in ways even yet to be discovered. So here's to you, as well, little one. The joy, indeed, is in the journey.

Me and the Guys

2009-06-01T22:45:00.003-05:00

Didn't want to change my profile photo, but wanted to share a pic of me and my guys.

Home Is Where the Mother Is

2009-05-09T21:47:00.006-05:00

I went to see my little mom last week. She’s 81 years old, about five feet tall, and pretty spunky, just the same. I love her stories. I love it how she can remember what Jeffrey used to do when he was five and I can’t (life was such a fog when the kids were small and our goal was simply to get them all in bed at night.) I love it that she still keeps up with our next door neighbor in Shreveport, Louisiana even though we moved away 38 years ago. I love that she cherishes certain day lilies growing in her garden because someone special gave them to her. I love that every now and then she gives me a call and says, “I just had a yen to talk to you!” I love that when she saw her first great grandchild and was asked how it felt, she simply summed it up in one word – continuance. I love that when we moved her out of her house a few years back, she could tell a story about every quilt she had and every knick knack on her shelf, and basically knew who had given her what and why and when. I love it that she can remember things like that, because I can’t remember anything. But more than that, it professes to me the value she places in relationships. She paid attention along the way, and remembered the things that were important. The relationships.

My parents moved around some after Duane and I married, so when someone asked me where “home” was, I always just said wherever they were living at the time – Dallas, Memphis, Paris. Because really, home wasn’t a certain city, home was simply where they were.

And still today, I believe with all my heart that “home is where the mother is.”
Mom’s were a great idea. Thanks, God!

And I love you, Mom!

caption: mom and sweet peas
or
a sweet pea of a mom

In Lieu of the Flu

2009-05-04T20:36:00.005-05:00

With everyone around Houston so preoccupied with the Swine Flu, and waiting for the next shoe to fall or school to close, I thought I would post something to help take our minds off of things.

The Doneraki man.

The Doneraki man is a north Houston icon. Everyone in the Champions area of Houston knows him. He stands on a busy street corner (FM1960 @ Champion Forest Drive) in a sandwich sign everyday (for at least the last ten years,) waving his arms at the traffic and promoting Doneraki’s Mexican food restaurant a half block away. The Doneraki man, we have decided, is the younger brother who can’t cook.

The Doneraki man started out with his sandwich sign and a sombereo. Rain or Shine, Hot or Cold (in Houston, Hot or less hot) there he stands. He is so famous, we sometimes talk about him at lunch.

One day I drove by and heard a sound like a loud fart and discovered he had added a bugle to his advertising mania. Remember how 6th grade trumpet lessons sounded? Like that.

Recently I noticed he was getting even more creative. He has left the bugle and replaced it with toilet paper rolls, one in each hand, stuffed with long, white cloth napkins that stick out of each end, which he waves at people as they pass by.

Why does he wave? Why does he stand there in the sweltering heat? How much does he get paid? Why did he leave his post one day while I was watching and go bum a cigarette from a lady across the street waiting at a bus stop? These are all questions I would respectfully like to ask him someday.

Famous Quotes

2009-04-09T23:57:00.005-05:00

My friend, Jules, and I have a habit of recording “famous quotes” when we are together attending a children’s ministry conference, staff meeting, etc. Sometimes they are profound, sometimes they don’t make sense at all, sometimes they are just pretty darned funny. So here’s a few for your reading enjoyment:

“You’re so big and sweet!” Miss Pattycake

“I want to give you 2 ‘F’ words….” An unnamed Minister of Education in a large southern Baptist Church in Georgia, speaking at a Children’s Pastors Conference. (We never heard the 2 words, b/c we were so stunned by the quote we were kicking each other under the table to keep from laughing. Though I think one of the “f” words might have been “focus”.)

“Dedicated and medicated” Gigi, in describing children’s ministers without true balance in their lives

“In two days, tomorrow will be yesterday.” Crabby Bill

“Aaarggghhh…" Cap’t Jim the pirate.

“Did you know one billion oh ninety-five million people live in India? Good God, that’s a lot of people!” Said with a really bad southern accent by an unnamed museum visitor reading the signs at a museum exhibit on India (quote shared by our friend, Marty, but laughed at by all of us)

“I will be a fly on your wall.” Another unnamed Minister of Education stating he will be involved in the lives of his staff

“Jesus came to fill His Presence in the storms of our life.” Anonymous (I’m not willing to expose this person because she is Jules favorite person to stalk at conferences and holds the respect of a lot of children’s ministers across the country.) And yes, i know the quote makes no sense whatsoever. It was on a powerpoint slide.

“We all have a Crap Meter. When we hear something and think ‘that’s not true’ our Crap meter goes off. (then, somewhat under his breath) Can I say Crap up here?” a crazy man keynote speaker at a children’s ministry leadership conference. (Might I add that when he said “crap”, the Anonymous person referred to in the above quote closed her notebook and folded her arms. Bad sign for the crazy man. He just lost all chance of ever presenting at a children’s ministry leadership conference again..)

“It’s BROCCOLI!” mean waitress, responding to our friend Lezlie’s two questions : “What kind of broccoli is it?” and “How is the broccoli prepared?”

Angels and other Mysteries

2009-02-21T22:26:00.003-06:00

I am not a theologian. There is so much about God that I can’t even wrap my brain around. I think the Sovereignty of God is easy for me, because of that. Yet at the same time, I love the supernatural side of God. I think most of the time we are so busy in our lives and so sterile in our “religion” and even our relationship that we don’t take time to meditate on the supernatural part of God. The mystery. Then we are surprised if we ever notice it or are ever blessed enough to experience it.

God is honored for what he keeps secret. Proverbs 25:2

To you it has been granted to know the mysteries of the kingdom of God. Luke 8:10

Let man regard us in this manner, as servants of Christ and stewards of the mysteries of God. 1 Corinthians 4:1

One of the most intriguing verses in the Bible to me is Hebrews 13:2 --Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing so some have entertained angels unaware.

When our kids were growing up, we chose to teach them about angels. The Bible tells us that children’s angels continually behold the face of the Father. We recognized their participation in our lives as messengers, protectors. As we slept at night and drove down the highway, the preceding prayers were for the protection of angels around our house, around our windows, and around our cars. We knew definitively that the reason our house was the only house on the street that never was robbed wasn’t because of the big friendly dog in the backyard, but because of the angels who stood guard over our home. However, when the van flooded in high water just a block from our driveway and two never seen before teenagers appeared from nowhere and pushed us into the driveway, and refused to accept money because as they said, “we just came here to help…” it was my preschool daughters who asked if they were angels…not me.

Mandisa sings a song that got me to thinking about the times in my life I could not explain…the mysteries. It may not be totally theologically accurate, but it brought back some of the mysteries of my personal faith journey. Listen to the words of “God Speaking” by Mandisa --

Have you ever heard a love song,
That set your spirit free?
Have you ever watched a sunrise,
And felt you could not breathe?
What if it’s Him? What if it’s God speaking?

Have you ever cried a tear
that You could not explain?
Have you ever met a stranger
Who already knew your name?
What if it’s Him? What if it’s God speaking?

Who knows how He’ll get a hold of us?
Get our attention to prove He is enough
He’ll do, and He’ll use whatever He wants to
To tell us, I love you

Have you ever lost a loved one
Who you thought should still be here?
Do you know what it feels liketo be tangled up in fear?
What if He’s somehow involved?
What if He’s speaking through it all?

His ways are higher
His ways are better
And though sometimes strange
What could be stranger than God in a manger?

Who knows how He’ll get a hold of us?
Get our attention to prove he is enough
He’ll do and He’ll use whatever He wants to
To tell us, I love you

My mother in law was dying of cancer. She had breast cancer that metastasized into the liver. We made a few trips home in the last months to see her. One day Duane mentioned to his sister and me that as her organs began to fail one by one and her body began to slowly shut down, that it was almost like someone was going through the house/ through her body turning off the lights. One by one. I thought that was a pretty accurate word picture.

About a week later, his sister called me. She asked if I remembered what Duane said, and if we had shared that with anyone else. I asked why, and she told me this story. She had called her mom that morning to check on her and her mom said that the strangest thing had happened. She was sleeping in the lazy boy in the den, because she just couldn’t get comfortable in bed. The lazy boy faced down a long hallway that had three bedrooms and a bath off of each side of it. She was dozing off, but woke up to see a man in the house going from room to room and turning off the lights. She thought it was Duane’s younger brother, Craig, who had let himself in to the house, and was perturbed at him for not stopping to give her a hug first. She realized that it wasn’t’ Craig, but then dozed off again. It must have been a dream.

My sister-in-law whispered, “It wasn’t a dream, was it?” I don’t think I could even answer her. Within a few weeks, Duane’s mom was in the arms of Jesus.

Who knows how He’ll get a hold of us? Get our attention to prove HE IS ENOUGH.

Job 11:7 Can you fathom the mysteries of God? Can you probe the limits of the Almighty?

Still Trying to Figure Him Out

2009-02-01T15:24:00.005-06:00

Conversation last Saturday.

Becky to Duane: “Why don’t we plant a lemon tree?”
Duane to Becky: "O.k."

What Becky would have done:
Go to garden center, buy lemon tree, dig hole, plant lemon tree.

What Duane did:
Go to garden center. Talk to someone about lemon trees. Look at lemon trees. Decide to go back home and find a good place to plant a lemon tree. Decide to renovate the entire back flower bed to make room for lemon tree. Begin digging up twenty year old banana trees in flowerbed to make room for lemon tree. Begin digging up brick edging from around the flower bed. Carry bricks to truck. Carry bricks back to flower bed to use as fillers because we didn’t have enough dirt to fill in where we dug the brick edging up. Go back to garden center and buy 200 pounds of rock to use as edging. Work until dark replacing brick edging with rock. Wait a week. In the meantime talk to everyone he knows about lemon trees. Go to visit a neighbor who has a lemon tree in his back yard. Get up the next Saturday and continue the project. Run out of rock to edge the flowerbed. Go back to garden center. Buy 75 more pounds of rock to finish edging the flowerbed. Buy lemon tree. Go back home. Finish reconstructing the flowerbed. Plant lemon tree.

Ya gotta love him, but does the man not drive you crazy?

Free Make-up

2009-01-20T21:34:00.004-06:00

My friend, Lezlie, called me this morning and told me that all the big, fancy department stores were giving out free makeup today! She heard something on the radio about a multi-million dollar lawsuit/settlement that required them to just simply pass out make-up until they had completed their penance to society...or something like that.

Well, it wasn't exactly what we envisioned in our heart of hearts...But, we lined up in Dillards with hundreds of other women to get this amazing free offer. The line snaked through the cosmetics department, and though it was long...moved fast. All we had to do was sign something, take our pick of one out of about nineteen specified items, and make a run for it! Yea!

I got some free Lancome mascara. and Lezlie got some free Ralph Lauren Romance shower gel. FREE! Stuff we would probably never buy, but hey - it was FREE!

Our in-line conversation went like this,
Lezlie: "Men would never do this."
Me: "I know. Duane would say, 'How much does that stuff cost? Ten bucks? Here's ten bucks, just go buy you some."
Lezlie: "I know. They would never wait in line for free anything."
Me: "I know. Men would never do this."

Christmas 2008

2009-01-08T21:41:00.016-06:00

So we were a little ambitious with all the plans described in my earlier post, "Home is Where the Heart is", and we didn't factor in time eater-uppers like lost luggage and extreme temperatures....but all in all, Christmas was a sweet time. And at least we were mostly all together...except for Ashely's husband, Nick, who is in his second year of residency and could not get away. However in his honor, Ashley made a little foil Nick to represent him. (Isn't it sweet? She's holding his little foil hand!)

So the best thing about Christmas was just being together. And the second best thing was that Titus gave us our grandparent names. I am now "Nana". Duane is now "Baba". Titus can't say his "P's", so we were thinking he meant "Papa." But when Kari corrected him, "You mean Papa." Titus said, "NO. Baba."

We have since discovered that Baba is "a very old African grandfather." Interesting.

Here are some other favorite pictures from our sweet Tennessee Christmas.

Besides a Christmas Eve Service with Tammy Wynette and her son singing, "Christmas Shoes", and thin, scratchy towels...everything was simply wonderful. I missed Christmas in Houston, but i wouldn't mind doing this again!

It's o.k. to die, but it's not o.k. to keep silent.

2008-12-09T21:13:00.006-06:00

Our pastor taught a pretty darned good sermon Wednesday night about Stephen and martyrdom. I tried real hard not to listen, for reasons i choose not to mention...but something he said pierced me through. "Death is an option, but silence is not."

Home is Where the Heart Is

2008-12-01T22:14:00.006-06:00

I haven’t been this excited about anything in a long time, as I am about Christmas this year. While the deepest desire of my heart is just to have my chicks at home under my wing for Christmas, ALL my chicks at MY HOME, that is…sometimes we just have to chuck it and go for what works. Since Kari and Danny live 20 hours east and Ash and Nick live 18 hours north, and none of them have vacation time or resources to drive/fly home for 3-4 days-- we decided to meet somewhere more central to everyone. So we are spending Christmas in the smoky mountains!!! Sevierville, Tennessee, to be exact (and that, by the way, is pronounced by the natives as SA – VEER- VUL). Weird, huh?

So the plans include packing up all our worldly possessions and moving to a cabin in the smokies for Christmas week. On the agenda is cutting a tree and decorating with ribbons and cranberries, a nighttime trolley ride to look at billions of lights in Gatlinburg during their “Winterfest”, hiking in Cades Cove (please please let us see a bear…), an afternoon of geocaching in the smokies, hugging on the grandkids, a Christmas eve service at a local church, Christmas movies, family Christmas worship, family game night, and the most creative gift exchanges we could come up with. We are using themes for our gift exchanges and making or buying $2 gifts that can be kept or stolen. (The first night, something red. The second night, something that begins with the letter “m”, and the last night, something fun/funny.)

I heard a very wealthy man a very long time ago talk to a group of struggling young married couples about what was really important in life. As impassioned as he could be, he stated simply…make good memories. I’m in!

Still, and always, Thanksgiving!

2008-11-28T19:46:00.005-06:00

Donald Kampfhenkel’s favorite word in the Bible was “manifold.” Donald taught a Sunday School class of about twelve little two-year old girls (boys were in short supply that year) at the first little church where I served as preschool minister. They loved Mr. Donald, my little red-headed Ashley among them, as evidenced by the fact that every time I walked by the room and peeked in there were at least two or more of them in his lap, or sitting by him at the table, or listening intently to a book he was reading, or building a block tower beside him in the block center. I always wondered why manifold was his favorite word in the Bible, but figured it was something manly, because he worked on cars and air conditioners. I think they have manifolds in them, or so I’ve heard. Or perhaps he understood 1 Peter 4:10, about employing his gifts, and serving, and therefore being a steward of the manifold grace of God.

“Great is Thy Faithfulness” is one of my favorite thanksgiving hymns. I know it’s not specifically written for our American Thanksgiving Holiday, but what greater blessing do we have than His great faithfulness?! And knowing His complete providence? I also like it because it reminds me of Donald Kampfhenkel and what an amazing preschool teacher he was to twelve little two-year old girls way back when…

Summer and winter and springtime and harvest,
Sun, moon and stars in their courses above
Join with all nature in manifold witness
To Thy great faithfulness, mercy and love.

Great is Thy faithfulness!
Great is Thy faithfulness!
Morning by morning new mercies I see.
All I have needed Thy hand hath provided;
Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me!

Still, and always thankful…
Becky

P.S. “Manifold” means many and varied, multiple, diverse.

my fave photos from a week with the grandbabies

2008-11-14T23:18:00.007-06:00

1. Kari and Elli

2. Titus, in his ever-present shades, with his favorite new birthday toy -- a garbage truck from great granny

3. Duane, Titus, and Jorge the toddler scarecrow

4. Kari and Titus, in his fireDAWG pajamas

5. Miss Elli- big eyes and mop of hair

6. Titus being sad that Granny has to fly back to Texas

Mmmmm

2008-10-21T21:15:00.001-05:00

I heartily endorse PromisedLand Cinnamon Vanilla 2% milk.

See for yourself

2008-10-11T20:45:00.006-05:00

Just in case you were wondering
who Elli looks like.....

The Documentary

2008-09-30T21:54:00.006-05:00

This is my husband, Duane. Doesn't he look dashing sporting his newly scruffy facial hair grown during the "no electricity" days of Hurricane Ike? I really like it. I think he looks sort of cute and dignified. And anyways, he's probably going to need it this winter to help him stay warm, as we keep hearing old wives tales that after a bad hurricane you have an extra cold winter...which for Houston could mean we drop into the 30's or something.

But back to the documentary. And one last hurricane story.

We were going into day ten without power, and it was getting warmer. Well, to be honest, it was back to normal - hot and muggy. I was getting out of the shower and Duane was relaxing in bed watching TV (our morning treat, thanks to the generator cord stretching through our bedroom window.) On the tv was a black cat that looked strangely like our Edgar (see post from Wednesday, September 24) and all these crabs walking out of the sea and up the beach. The following conversation ensued:

Me: "What are you watching?"

Duane: "A documentary."

Me: "It's in Spanish. You don't speak Spanish!"

Duane: "Oh."

Ten days without power can make you crazy.

I Think I'm Done With Hurricanes

2008-09-26T20:20:00.016-05:00

What i really learned from Ike (taken from a very funny email, but most actually verified by personal experience):

1. Frozen pizzas can actually be made on the BBQ grill

2. No matter how many times you flick the switch, lights don't work without electricity

3. The Astros can't beat the Cubs in Milwaukee, especially on two hours sleep (Thanks for ruining our playoff chances, Bud Selig!)

4. He who has the biggest generator wins

5. Kids can survive longer than four days without a video controller in their hands

6. Walking around your home in the dark should be a new Olympic sport

7. When required, a Lincoln Continental can float. Doesn't steer well, but floats just the same

8. Your water front property can quickly become someone else's fishing hole

9. Crickets can increase their volumn to overcome the sound of 14 generators

10. If my store sold only ice, chain saws, gas, and generators...i'd be rich

11. Tree service companies are greatly underappreciated

12. People will get into a line that has already formed without having any idea what the line is for

13. There are a lot more stars in the sky than most people thought

14. There are a lot of freakin' trees around here

before and after clean up

The Chronicles of Hurricane Central, Still Continued

2008-09-25T23:26:00.005-05:00

Part Three: Random things about hurricanes that I never thought about before and random things that happened because of the hurricane

1. Two days after the hurricane, I finally saw a few birds again. Where do birds go in a hurricane anyways?

2. You can tell who the people are who don't have power yet. They have "hurricane hair"...a little flatter than the normal blow-dried coiffure.

3. You can’t buy baking soda in a single grocery store in Houston. And you need baking soda, because everything starts stinking after a while…like the drains and the musty insides of empty refrigerators and freezers that have lost a load of food to spoilage.

4. It takes twice as long to get anywhere after a hurricane, because none of the traffic signal lights are working and every intersection has to be treated like a four way stop. Trust me, it's dangerous to drive in Mexico without traffic lights, but it's MORE dangerous to drive in Houston without them.

5. My climbing rose bush was blown totally over on one side of the fence. And it never came back to the other side. Weird.

6. If i paid a kid a nickle for every pine cone he picked up in my yard, i could fund his college education.

7. I am dreaming a lot. Haven’t really dreamed like this in years. Of course since we didn't have power we went to bed about 8:30 – 9:00 when it got dark so we were getting a deeper and longer rest.

8. Oak is definitely heavier than pine. And pecan wood smells good. This was noticed after dragging tree limbs around the yard for a while.

9. It is well with my soul.

The Chronicles of Hurricane Central Continued

2008-09-24T19:16:00.006-05:00

Part Two: The Cat

This is Edgar. He's the best mouser we've ever had. I think it's because he's inherently evil and likes to kill things....be it a wiggling foot or some other REAL threat.

The world as Edgar knows it was turned upside down by IKE. We found him hiding in the laundry room, behind the washer (no small feat), and he actually scaled the back of the washing machine to escape. It took him two full days to get the nerve to actually go outside, before Duane finally booted him out the front door. Where he sat firmly on the front porch and refused to budge.

Until a rat ran by.

Let's just say he recovered nicely.

The Chronicles of Hurricane Central: After the Tempest

2008-09-23T23:47:00.002-05:00

Part One: Tranquility in the tempest

A synonym for hurricane is tempest. The antonym for tempest is tranquility or serenity. I like being able to combine tranquility and tempest. I think it says something important about your core.

Another synonym for tempest is brouhaha. I like “brouhaha” because you can’t really say it without laughing, and you can’t really live through a hurricane without being able to laugh, as well. I wish I could find a “b” word that means the same as tranquility to combine with brouhaha, so I could use the word brouhaha and alliterate the title of this post, but I can’t find one. We can try “Bradycardia in the Brouhaha.” Bradycardia is a medical term for a very slow heartbeat, which in our case would mean we were absolutely very very tranquil…

In the early morning hours of Saturday, September 13, Hurricane Ike, a Catagory 2 hurricane, made a direct hit on Galveston, Texas. Though we are in Northwest Houston, we are only 62 miles from Galveston. The winds came through Houston at breakneck speed. We lost power about 1:30 a.m. We didn’t wake up until we started hearing the roof creaking and moaning at about 2:30. I got up and looked out at the trees whipping around in the wind, but since neither Duane or I have a spirit of fear, I crawled back in bed next to him and went back to sleep. Once he mentioned something sounded like doors slamming, but we decided it was just limbs hitting the roof and rolling off.

I don’t think Duane ever got up, what could he do, after all? Neither the winds nor the waves obey him… so at first light, about 6ish, we crawled out of bed to see what was still standing.

Since we’ve been without power or internet for ten days, the next few days I will catch you up on life in the city, post- Ike. But first, we want to give honor to the Father for the mercies He showered on us through the storm. Let’s just call them Hurricane Mercies:

1. We lost power, but we never lost water. You can handle a lot, if you can still flush the toilet and take a shower at night.

2. There was no damage to the house, except maybe a little leak in the breakfast room. All the trees fell away from the house.

3. We were kept safe.

4. Sunday afternoon, one day into “no power”, our neighbor’s dad came from Austin with the last two gas generators in town. We had $760 cash on hand to purchase the generator off his truck.

5. With no power, even if there is gas you are unable to pump it. Gas lines were long because so few stations had power and were open. But we were always able to find gas when we needed it.

6. Duane had cold milk even after two days without power. (he loves his cold milk.)

7. We didn’t lose the muscadine juice I had frozen for future batches of muscadine jelly.

8. We were kept from fear.

9. Our phone worked all day Saturday, during the storm and for 24 hours afterwards before it died. We were able to touch base with and check on our friends/family.

10. We could always text, even if cell phones didn’t work.

11. The first cool front of the season came through the day after Ike, so we didn’t have the usual September temperatures in the 90’s. It was in the high 70’s all week, from Sunday until the next Saturday. People would have gotten hostile, if it had been hot.

12. There were no mosquitoes from the Saturday Ike hit til the next Sunday. NO MOSQUITOES. And I mean no mosquitoes, in Houston, in September, after a hurricane.

13. Talked to, worked alongside, broke bread, and visited with neighbors, previously unknown.

14. We were still able to minister to those around us. Duane felt led to start an ICE ministry in the neighborhood. He got people with generators to freeze ice for people without generators. Every day at 5:00 he went around and picked up ice from neighbors to deliver to other neighbors so they could keep the remaining food in their ice chests cold.

That's it for now. I've gotten used to going to bed when it gets dark, and it's waaaay past my bedtime now!

Seven Years Later

2008-09-11T22:31:00.003-05:00

Today is September 11, 2008. This morning on television, they read the names again, so we could once again remember...as if we could ever forget. Seven years later there are still tears running down faces. Seven years later there are still children who have never met their dad. Seven years later we still shake our heads in disbelief. Seven years later we still understand that the only safe place is "in Christ".

Seven years ago, I wrote the following thoughts in the Preschool Press (my little weekly announcement page for my preschool Sunday School teachers at church). Just wanted to share them one more time, because they still ring true.

GOD BLESS AMERICA.
I love America. You know I do. I love everything about it, and I’m so crazy patriotic that I embarrass my kids. I unabashedly wave flags, sing “The Star-Spangled Banner” at the top of my lungs, vote responsibly at EVERY election, even little ones, and cry at fourth of July fireworks shows. I love all it is, all it has to offer…the pureness of being able to gulp freedom like a jug of cold water, even when it hurts...and sometimes it does. I even loved the frustration of the 2000 presidential election, as we breathlessly waited for freedom to run its full course, as it eventually did. It’s how we live. It’s who we are. It’s all we’ve ever known.

Freedom is an incredible blessing, and an incredible responsibility. I learned that afresh from listening to the limits my daughter experienced being in a Communist nation this summer. I heard the sound of the gate slamming behind her team as they entered their college campus, the sound of the loud speaker that called the students to morning calisthenics at 6:00 a.m., the sound of the blinds being quickly closed as they turned on the VCR and quietly watched the Jesus video with friends.

Freedom. America. You say them in the same breath.

This has been a week of profound sadness for us all. Our blessed America has been attacked in an inconceivable act of evil. And we have all been changed forever. We’ve experienced every emotion possible from shock and disbelief, to sadness, helplessness, emptiness, disgust, and anger. Tears just keep welling up in our eyes and rolling down our cheeks in the middle of the day without warning. However, I most deeply hurt for our children, because their America will never be the same again.

So where do we go from here? How do we live from this day forward? What do we tell our children?

Start here: Hug your kids/grandkids tight, and remember the true source of our freedom: “If the Son shall make you free, you shall be free indeed” John 8:36. Then finish here: “The Lord is for me. I will not fear; what can man do to me?” Psalm 118:6 and “Do not be afraid of those who hurt the body, but cannot hurt the soul.” Matthew 10:28 Now we know first hand, the only safe place is truly “IN CHRIST”.

Hold your head high, and live in peace. You are my precious family. And, God bless America!

Good Stuff

2008-08-28T23:09:00.004-05:00

Sometimes my soul feels like a hard little dried up pebble deep down somewhere in my being. I have felt like that a lot lately. But sometimes it feels restored, moisturized, breathing, whole. I am convinced that the difference lies in embracing Psalm 20:7, "Some trust in chariots, some trust in horses, but we trust in the Name of the Lord our God."

I needed to find this little poem that Patsy Thacker gave me in college, so i started searching for it last night at 11:00. I could see in my mind the little piece of paper in her handwriting that she had torn out of a spiral notebook and i could almost remember all the words on it...but not quite. But I needed them. So I googled the phrases i could remember, and even the author, and got nothing. So i kept looking. Duane found me sitting on the bed going through my "box" , you know, the one with all the little poems and cartoons and letters and things i tore out of magazines years ago in it. It was well after midnight that i found it -- guess where? Not in my box, but filed in the file cabinet under "poems". Imagine that!

So here it is. Hopefully you can understand why i needed to find it.

Who could ask for more,
Lord
than to sit with You
in eternity
conversing
understanding
understood
splashing like the happy laughter of a child
upon the parched sahara of yesterday
then drawing lovely whispers from the past
for a thousand years
some afternoon?

D.L. Purdy

Pray for Xiao

2008-07-20T19:03:00.003-05:00

My friend, Xiao (pronounced like shower, without the “er”), has a brain tumor.

The Church met tonight to anoint him with oil, lay hands on him in prayer, and believe God for his healing. Xiao is from China. The prayers tonight, both English and Chinese, reminded me that indeed we are all one Body, we share the same Spirit, and we serve one God …the Most High God, the God who heals. How powerful, the voices of the saints, lifted to the Father on the behalf of His servant, Xiao. Alleluiah.

Pray for Xiao. Pray in faith. Spread the word.
Thanks.

Meet Elli, Granddaughter extraordinare'

2008-07-10T00:29:00.006-05:00

Eliana Ruth Breed was born June 21, 2008 at 3:40 a.m. approximately 12 hours after Vacation Bible School was cleaned up and put away. She weighed in at 6 pounds, 6 ounces and sports a mop of black hair with several problematic cowlicks. After an initial bout of jaundice and a few days in a warm, blue, glowing, fiber optic billi-blanket (we called her our little blue light special), Elli is doing well. Welcome to the world, little Elli! You are loved already!

A Slight Conundrum

2008-06-13T23:08:00.004-05:00

I have a slight little problem. (see photo) That is Daughter #1 with grandbaby #2. Kari is taking herself off of bedrest to go to dinner with her wonderful husband to celebrate their fifth anniversary on June 14. She is also celebrating the completion of 36 weeks of her pregnancy on June 15. (We are confident that baby Elli will arrive whole and complete and safe and sound now.) I am eagerly awaiting a phone call to hop a plane and fly to Raleigh once the baby comes.

Oh yeah, the slight problem??? Vacation Bible School starts for me on June 16. VBS is one of the biggest events of the year in my line of business, as big as Easter Sunday times five.

So where do you think i'll be next week?

Only in Texas

2008-05-13T20:10:00.004-05:00

Tonight at Fajita Willies while we were eating dinner, a little league team came in mass to the restuarant after their game. All the kids looked so spiffy. The season has just begun, they were sporting brand new uniforms, and were so proud! When they turned around, my son Jeff, started to chuckle and said, "Look at their sponsor, Mom." Written across the back of their uniforms was: CHICO'S BAIL BONDS -- Let Freedom Ring!

Yeah, only in Texas...

Wedding Wrap

2008-04-17T20:00:00.013-05:00

April 8, 2008

So when Ashley was five, she went to a wedding with me because I told her they would have cake. She wiggled and fidgeted and squirmed a good part of the ceremony until she finally turned to me and whispered, “At MY wedding, we’re having the cake FIRST!” Imagine my surprise when we entered the church last Saturday and the girls in the house party were handing out programs and little containers of cake!

It’s hard for a parent to put into words, but after 27 years of praying for this day…it only seemed “right”. It was a covenant – it was simple, it was prayerful, it was worship, it was celebration. In the middle of the service, Nick picked up Ashley’s hands and gently kissed them. They wrote their own vows and promised each other, “I will never leave.” The “wedding feast” followed the covenant ceremony, and as Ashley danced with her dad she also wiped the tears from his eyes.

The wedding is over, and the marriage has just begun. God has been both gracious and merciful to us, and we rejoice!

For a sneak preview of more wedding pictures, go to http://nicklovesashley.com/

One Week and Counting

2008-03-28T22:39:00.002-05:00

I think this is going to be a three massage wedding.

I had one last Friday.
I had one today.
I will have one after i get back from my daughter's April 5 wedding.

Have i told you lately about my new best friend, Jeany, at Waiting to Exhale Day Spa? Her massages are absolutely to die for. Better even than the one I had in Costa Rica, where they plastered me with hot volcanic mud and when it dried, i ran through the woods "neckked" and bathed in the hot steamy water of a stream flowing from the volcano as i washed it off. (I didn't really run neckked through the woods. I had a towel on. It just sounds more daring to say it.) At any rate, Jeany beats Costa Rica hands down.

Ahhh.... I am so relaxed. I think I am ready.

Jesus

2008-03-22T23:45:00.004-05:00

The song, Before the Throne, by Shane Banard states the astonishing:

Because the sinless Savior died
my sinful soul is counted free,
For God, the Just, is satisfied
to look on Him and pardon me.

Happy Easter.
He is risen, indeed.

A Fierce Love and a Tender Compassion

2008-03-15T12:41:00.005-05:00

March 1, 2008.

My son’s little cat died. Jeff is now 21, Ziggy was 108 (in cat years, that is.) She had been a member of the family since Jeff was, oh, about five-and-a-half.

Ziggy was a sweet little thing. Smart, too. She would knock on the front door when she wanted to come in, somehow popping her claws on the beveled glass to get our attention. She loved nothing better than a sunny spot to curl up in, except maybe a place to sleep on Jeff’s bed beside him.

I sort of knew it was coming, so I asked him last week what he would want me to do, hypothetically, if Ziggy died. I knew he had college mid-terms coming up, and I didn’t want him to be sad or distracted and unable to study, or to rush home and miss tests, or make a poor decision based on emotions, or something like that. All he said was that he would like to see her again, his little Ziggy.

So I couldn’t find her Thursday when I got home from work about dark. She hadn’t wandered past the patio or back yard in years, not since she lost one eye a few years back.
Friday morning I got up early to look for her again and finally found her in the back corner of the back yard, curled up against the fence. Brought her inside and made her comfy on some towels in the laundry room, then called Jeff.

“I think if you want to see Ziggy, you’d better come on home after class.” So he did.

When he got home, he lay down on the floor beside her and grieved over her. Then he moved her little pallet into the den so he could stay with her and he never stopped petting her or talking to her until she died the next morning at 1 a.m.

He was so sweet and loved her so fiercely. Not even his pain took him away from her. He wasn’t ashamed to cry. We talked through the stages as her breathing changed and her body prepared for imminent death. He gave her permission to quit struggling. After she died, he picked her up and held her a while.

I want Jeff with me when I die.

My New Best Friend, Jeany

2008-02-28T22:46:00.005-06:00

How cool is it to have a massage therapist who covers you with a warm blanket then prays over your relaxed body and soul when she is finished. (In Houston, try Waiting to Exhale Day Spa.)

Christmas Blessings...

2007-12-20T01:14:00.000-06:00

One of my favorite Christmases was the year our Ashley was born. This redheaded little baby girl was invited to be baby Jesus in the Christmas pageant at church. I’m sure it wasn’t her acting ability, as she was only about five weeks old, so it was probably the fact that she was the only baby about the right size whose parents would let her participate. So I got to be Mary, and Duane got to be Joseph and I’ll never forget the moment I picked her up out of the manger and they saw that it was a real baby …an audible gasp arose from the congregation. A little hand stuck out of the blanket and wiggled…A real baby…
Or maybe it was the song that followed that brought it home.

That night.

“That night, in all of heaven, there wasn’t a sound

As God and the angels watched the earth.

For there in a stable, the Father’s only Son

Came to give Himself through human birth.

And when the cry of a baby pierced the universe

Once for all man was shown his worth.

And the heavens EXPLODED

with music everywhere

and the angels spilled over heavens edge

And filled the air!

And the Father rejoiced

For He did not lose His Son,

But He gained to Himself forever

Those who’d come.”

A real baby.

Christmas blessings to you and your house, from me and mine!

Christmas thoughts

2007-12-12T23:43:00.000-06:00

So this little girl , all of two-and-a-half years old, walks into the preschool area at church the Sunday we put up the Nativity scene, runs up to it, throws her arms into the air and points to the star and screams with all due drama... "the STAR! the STAR!!!"

This is the Nativity scene from last year, with my crazy family doing the biblical role-playing.

Titus and Granny

2007-12-07T09:29:00.001-06:00

I don't take good pictures. But here's a keeper.

It's my favorite Titus and Granny picture to date, taken on his first birthday. Yes, he's one, now. My daughter said something profound the other day..."long days, short years." Wish i would have thought of it first!

Thanksgiving

2007-12-07T09:16:00.000-06:00

We're decorating for Christmas, but folks are still asking me if i had a good Thanksgiving. Hence, this post. I love Christmas, but Thanksgiving has got to be the very best holiday in the world. Thanksgiving....You can’t even say the word without being grateful.

Very early in our marriage, Duane and I adopted a principle for living on the planet: “Everything I have, I have because God has given me.” Sometimes the “everything” didn’t seem like very much. Sometimes it has seemed bountiful beyond our imaginations. More often than not, tears well up in our eyes because we are so astounded at His Providence. And we’ve always found ourselves with enough….Maybe not as the world counts it, but we’ve always had what we needed. The kids might have not thought so growing up, but we never sent them to bed hungry, we never sent them to school naked, and they’ve never been homeless. Maybe our house wasn’t as fancy as someone else’s, but their friends were always welcome there, and I usually set an extra plate for dinner just in case one of them stopped by. Maybe our yard didn’t get yard of the month one single time, but it was the “gathering place” and the neighborhood kids still hang out on in our porch swing that dangles from the big live oak in the side yard. Maybe having things isn’t what it’s really all about after all. Because it’s not ours to begin with.

“Be ye glad” is an old Acapella song that keeps flickering around in my brain this "Thanksgiving". The words say something like this

Oh be ye glad, Oh, be glad.
Every debt that you ever had
Has been paid up in full
By the grace of the Lord
Be ye glad,
Be ye glad,
Be ye glad.

(I knew there was more to Thanksgiving than just turkey.)

Everything I have, I have because God has given me. (Contentment.) All I have needed Thy hand hath provided. (Providence.) Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me. (Thanksgiving.)

my favorite thanksgiving poem

2007-11-21T00:35:00.000-06:00

i stretch
soul - length
secure and confident
that naught of hate, disgust, contempt, or unconcern
can taint His love.

how good to be
in Him
forever free.

ash and nick

2007-10-29T21:36:00.000-05:00

My daughter just got engaged!

(Ash, as i tend to remember her)

(Ashley and Nick now)

We've been praying for Nick for 27 years ...ever since i was pregnant with Ashley-- we just didn't know his name. Needless to say, we feel so blessed that the Lord has finally crossed their paths and brought them to each other.

Gloria and Mark

2007-10-04T08:50:00.000-05:00

We sit by these people at Astros games. We both have a 27 game mini-season ticket plan that has seated us down the row from each other by a throw of the dice. He has a long bleached blond ponytail and yells at all the players as if they could really hear him. (We sit right behind home plate, four decks up.) She dances inappropriately after great defensive plays and homeruns. They are right out of the seventies. Their youngest son is maybe in middle school, and he joins in their antics. Their oldest son is in high school… and he just mostly tries not to be embarrassed. These people have a great time at games. They just didn’t fall off the same watermelon truck as everyone else.

So to date, this is what I’ve discovered about Gloria and Mark.

Before the after-game fireworks on July 3, that long patriotic song came over the loudspeaker where servicemen stand up during the playing of the theme song for the branch of the armed services they served in. You know the song I’m talking about because they play it in church all the time on patriotic days. Well, to my surprise, during “From the Halls of Montezuma”, Mr. Ponytail jumped to his feet and stood perfectly at attention without blinking or flinching the entire song. A proud Marine.

Mrs. Inappropriate Dancer works downtown and meets the family at games. Mr. Ponytail got a masters degree in physics at Rice. They always bring their sons. They never drink beer. They offered to walk me to my car one night after the game, when I was there by myself. And they always offer me one of the free “give-aways” you get for being one of the first 10,000 fans in attendance at the game. (Because they get four of them, and I’m never early enough to get anything.)

Maybe if Duane buys me a mini-season ticket plan again next year, I’ll get to pick up where we left off, with Gloria and Mark. I’ve decided that you can’t judge a book by its cover.

Temporarily Out of Here

2007-09-15T00:45:00.000-05:00

Duane and i are going on our first fall vacation in twenty-five years. We are going to Montana on the bike. I'll post some pics as soon as i can!

The Difference Between Boys and Girls

2007-09-14T23:54:00.001-05:00

When my girls were little, like-toddlers-in-the-high-chair-little, they would do things like pick up a piece of spaghetti off of their plate and rock it between their fingers and hum, “Rock a Bye Baby”. When my boy was little, even littler , like-a-just-sitting-up-baby-in-a-high-chair-little, he would move cheerios around on the high chair tray making blubbering boy “putting “ noises with his mouth like they were cars. Yes, before he could even talk.

I didn’t teach them that.

They are no longer little. Now they are 20, 26, and 28. So last Friday I found a mouse head on my nice flagstone patio. My daughter Ashley’s very unique long haired black cat, Edgar, sat nearby looking very full and contented. (My son, Jeff, says Edgar is just biding his time until he can take over the world.) So I texted the kids a message about the mouse head, and got these replies:

Daughters: Eewwww.
Son: Take a picture!
And upon receiving the picture: That’s AWESOME!

…the difference between boys and girls…

Birthdays

2007-09-07T15:34:00.000-05:00

I'm so bad at birthdays. Not the remembering them part, just the celebrating them part. I always remember them, like the day before. Then i don't have time to mail a card or buy a thoughtful gift or really plan a fitting celebration. Or sometimes i buy a card weeks early, with all the good intentions in the world, but never look up the address or buy the stamp to put it in the mail timely.

I think my birthday dilemma began way back. All of the significant birthdays in my life are too close to other holidays, so everything runs together...especially when i have to get finished with one thing before i can concentrate on another. My CPA husband, Duane -- his birthday is during tax season. My kids --Kari's is right before Valentine's Day, Ashley's is the day after Halloween, and Jeff's is Christmas Eve. My Mom's is Columbus Day, grandbaby Titus' is the day after Ashley's, and so on. And mine...December 23. Sigh. My apologies to all of you. I think i just prefer Christmas. (Maybe because it's always a set date, and i have a month to work on it.)

So i have an idea. I've been having some good ones, lately. Like, for instance, renaming the fall festival at church "Pumpkin Palooza". My birthday idea is extraordinary, though. I've decided to buy and send birthday cards whenever i see one that reminds me of someone. Whether it's their birthday or not. Yes, maybe it's a little weird, but on the other hand... i'll never be late with a birthday card, again. Kari said that was just fine with her, as long as i remembered to include the money!

FIREWORKS!

2007-07-09T22:57:00.000-05:00

I've decided i want a night funeral so i can have fireworks. At the funeral. Or at the burial. Doesn't really matter to me. My daughters both said they'd do sparklers in place of roses on the casket, but that's not big enough. I want real fourth of July fireworks.

My husband will have to die first, because he thinks i'm crazy. He doesn't share my fascination with fireworks in the least. I could watch them every night...in fact the last time we went to DisneyWorld, that was my goal. I watched them on the beach, I watched them from the theme parks, I watched them from a boat on the water. I looked for the best spot to watch them, and by golly ... i watched them. I love fireworks, but i love it even more when they are put to music.

I think i got it from my Dad. Dad loved fireworks and I'm sure he introduced us to them at an early age. I guess i just never got over it. He loved every thing about summer..lightning bugs, falling stars, whipporwills, heat lightning, the sound of locusts buzzing in the nearby trees, sitting outside on the patio at night telling Paul Bunyan stories until we got sleepy, and of course...fireworks. In the old timey days when you got to light your own, and it was still legal, we bought more than we could afford and sat up shop in my grandmothers front yard. From the safety of Mama Jo's front porch (or not) we and all the cousins, popped firecrackers, lit roman candles, watched our first "fountains", and explored the fascinating world of pyrotechnics and pyromaniacs.

So this fourth of July, Duane and i went to a great fireworks display. We sat on a pallet waiting for dusk and for the fireworks to start. About half way through the program, this little kid in the group next to us couldn't contain himself any longer and shouted out, "THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE!"

Remember that, if someone comes through for me and has fireworks at my funeral!

Observation: The Body of Christ

2007-06-13T23:21:00.000-05:00

I intended to write about our busy month of May, which included a visit by baby Titus to Texas to meet his sweet great-granny and the wonder of their instant "bond", as if he knew they belonged together.

I know i said i would write more later about our Branson trip, but i never got around to it. I meant to write the interestingly miraculous story of the gigantic old live oak tree that fell on the house, but i didn't do that either.

And now it's VBS week. (For those who don't know the code, that means Vacation Bible School -- the best week of the year for children!)

I love Vacation Bible School. I guess I'm a hopeless old die-hard preschool minister at heart. I think, even after over 75+ years of evangelical churches having VBS's, that it's still one of our best chances in the world to reach kids for Christ.

And besides that, I love it because i love watching the Body of Christ in action. I love how we are knitted together and perform as ONE. I love watching the Craniums teaching the Bible stories and thinking of better ways to communicate Truths, the Hands designing their room decorations, the Larynx’s hollering their class cheers as they move from rotation to rotation and the Shoulders with tired little ones nuzzling up against them. I love seeing those passionate about missions, teaching missions... those gifted in music, teaching music... those who love 2nd graders, teaching 2nd graders... and those who are in heaven blowing bubbles for one year olds, blowing bubbles for one year olds. I love knowing that some folks actually took vacation to teach VBS, not because someone twisted their arm…but because they love the Body, love kids, love the kingdom, and love Vacation Bible School. I love knowing that some folks have been members of our church for years, and some have been members for only days. I love that men can teach Vacation Bible School, too.

How blessed we are! Can it get much better than this?

"For the body is not one member, but many. And God has placed the members , each one of them, in the body, just as He desired." 1 Corinthians 12: 14, 18

People Unclear on the Concept

2007-05-20T22:16:00.000-05:00

Duane and i took a road trip on the bike last week (more about that later). Riding through a small town in northern Arkansas we saw this unbelievable sign in front of a house:

YARD SALE: Inside

Suffering

2007-04-07T09:57:00.001-05:00

I'm not a big fan of popes (nothing against them, its only because I like Jesus a lot better), but I saved the religion page of the April 2, 2005 Houston Chronicle simply because of this great quote by Pope John Paul II. It is regarding suffering and is in an article about faith, life, and death. Pope John Paul II made a point of showing the world the suffering that comes at the end of life, as he lived frail and bent in the spotlight in his last days. So here's the quote. "Suffering is part of God's wonderful plan."

Can't help but thinking about it during Easter.

To all my friends who are struggling, whether with cancer or broken hearts over broken children, broken dreams, or broken marriages...to Marion, Sharon, Kelly,Fayrene, Cindy, Terri, and others. I whisper to you what i whispered to my sweet Dad when he still understood, but could no longer speak and no longer answer back, "Thank you for choosing to honor God even in your pain. Finish strong!" Dad was the best example ever at overcoming, and rose above his circumstances and suffering to finish strong when it would have been so much easier to give up, to be overwhelmed, to make everyone else suffer with him.

Can't help but thinking about it during Easter.

Good reading: Romans 5:3, Romans 8:17-18, Philippians 3:10, 1 Peter 2:19, 1 Peter 4:12-13

Backroads, Bluebonnets, and Blessings

2007-04-06T23:14:00.000-05:00

An annual rite of spring for city-dwellers in this part of Texas is to head out of town for a breath of fresh air and explore the backroads in search of bluebonnets. Too many years to number, we packed two giggly girls and their little brother in a maroon '79 Astro van and headed to the country ourselves. (And I have the pictures to prove it.) Though we now have our route mapped out, I imagine in the past twenty years we, at one time or another, have traveled every little country road in Washington County.

So Duane and I did the bluebonnet tour on the bike this year (the bike being an 800 pound Honda Goldwing motorcycle). And at every turn of the road I saw them again, leaping like lambs in the meadows, standing on their heads in patches of bluebonnets, exploring the ramshackled porch of the broken down old house, hanging over fences, posing for pictures by the little white country church, climbing over a barbed wire fence to find a bluer patch... It was true. There was probably nowhere they hadn't touched and everywhere i looked, I saw them again...two giggly girls and their little brother. I have to admit, I missed them all so much I started to cry. Right there on the back of the bike.

And the bluebonnets, they were more beautiful than they've been in years. How blessed we are!

"For lo, the winter is passed. The rains are over and gone. The flowers appear on the earth, and the time of the singing of birds is come! " Song of Solomon 2:12

i really don't know nuthin' about blogging

2007-03-24T12:00:00.000-05:00

The funniest thing about my blog is that I only started it so I could embed and save the photoshow of my grandbaby Titus during his first week. It was a Walgreens photoshow thing and it expired after a month unless you paid an exhorbatant amount of money to upgrade something. Since I thought it was worth keeping, I opened up "beckyzblog" and started this thing.

The next funniest thing about it is that absolutely no one even knows I have a blog except my oldest daughter, Kari (who, by the way is Titus' mother.) Who, by the way, is also the only person who has commented on anything in my blog...except for Titus, who once commented vicariously through his mother. So even though I haven't told anyone else about it, every now and then I open up my blog and see if anyone else has found it and commented on anything. Or I open it up to fiddle around with blog things I mostly can't figure out.

When I was nine years old I had a diary and wrote in it every night, mostly stupid things like, "today I got up, went to school, played outside, read my Bible and went to bed." (Life wasn't very exciting at nine.) I guess blogging is a 21st century techno-diary, with one exception. You can't lock it and hide it in your underwear drawer to keep your brother out. You just don't have to give anyone else the link.

empty nesting

2007-02-23T18:23:00.000-06:00

As an early Christmas present for Duane, and just because we wanted to and finally could afford to do something for ourselves, we flew out to California to watch the Texas A & M and UCLA basketball game in early December. Coupled with visits to our long lost relatives (my sweet Uncle Win, and Duane's Uncle Charles and Aunt Twila) we spent the weekend enjoying catching up with family and traveling the California coast from Anaheim to San Diego. There are, afterall, advantages to empty nesting!

2007-01-20T23:17:00.000-06:00

my personal mission statement

2007-01-20T16:33:00.000-06:00

It's kind of boring around Houston today-- cloudy, damp, and cold for the umpteenth day running. So i thought i'd try adding something to my blog. I wrote this mission statement around 1999 or 2000. A lot has changed in my life since then-- empty nest, kids are grown, have a grandbaby-- but my goals are steadfast and hopefully in the process of being accomplished! I guess i need to add a grandchildren part...

My Personal Mission Statement

My heart...

"Will you love Jesus more, when we go our different ways? When this moment is a memory, will you remember HIS face? Will you look back and realize you sensed His love more than you did before? I pray for nothing less, than for you to love Jesus more."

My desire is to know Christ and the power of His Resurrection in every role in my life. To walk with Him intimately as He guides me to fulfill His purpose for me in every role of my life, both now and in the future throughout the changing dynamics of these roles.

For my husband: To love, honor and encourage Duane. To have a marriage that represents the wholeness and oneness of Christ to the world. To communicate openly and respect each other unconditionally. To live happily ever after.

For my children: To disciple my children. To raise godly children and prepare them for independent living in a world that is not their home and shares not their values. To stand on the sidelines and cheer enthusiastically whether they win the race or not. To love them each the best and to help develop within them the creative and unique individual God has designed them to be. And to ultimately move from parent to friend.

For my home: To make my home a haven. A place of ministry. To let even my garden reflect the wonderful things He has made!

For my friends/other family: To laugh with those who laugh. To weep with those who weep. To play together. To be held trustworthy. To know and live out this truth-- that i would be the poorer without them...good, dear, life-enriching friends. To live out my important relationships with no regrets.

For my ministry: To share my passion for preschool and family ministry through writing and speaking, nurturing teachers and parents, and people of like passion. To reproduce myself in mentoring and discipleship relationships.

2006-12-29T17:08:00.000-06:00

grandbabies are amazing! see photoshows of titus owen breed's first week

2006-12-21T20:32:00.000-06:00

http://www.photoshow.net/publish/wm3ux9FG.swf?w=240" http://www.photoshow.net/publish/KH3zU4ci.swf?w=240"