Called From the Many to the One

"Now an angel of the Lord said to Philip, 'Go south to the road - the desert road - that goes down from Jerusalem to Gaza.' so he started out, and on his way he met an Ethiopian eunuch, an important official in charge of all the treasury of Candace, queen of the Ethiopians. This man had gone to Jerusalem to worship, and on his way home was sitting in his chariot reading the book of Isaiah the prophet. The Spirit told Philip, 'Go to that chariot and stay near it.'

Then Philip ran up to the chariot and heard the man reading Isaiah the prophet. 'Do you understand what you are reading?' Philip asked.

'How can I,' he said, ' unless someone explains it to me?' so he invited Philip to come up and sit with him.

The eunuch was reading this passage of Scripture: 'He was led like a sheep to the slaughter, and as a lamb before the shearer is silent, so he did not open his mouth. In his humiliation he was deprived of justice. Who can speak of his descendants? For his life was taken from the earth.'

The eunuch asked Philip, 'Tell me, please, who is the prophet talking about, himself or someone else?' Then Philip began with that very passage of Scripture and told him the good news about Jesus." Acts 8:26-35 NIV

God called Philip from "the many" of the crowds to just one, the Ethiopian. Don't you love that reminder? Often we become so enamored with numbers, particularly large numbers, that we lose sight of our true commission - to share the Gospel of Christ, one person at a time. (Jesus has no grandchildren, only children.) Being called to share the Gospel with such an unlikely person as an Ethiopian, was an enigma, yet Philip just moved forward in obedience to his call of that minute, and God did the rest. Since Scripture says the Ethiopian was "an important official in charge of all the treasury of Candace, queen of the Ethiopians," we know he had a huge arena of influence. Once he became a Christian, he would be touching many future lives for the glory of God. Through the salvation of one, "the many" would still be touched in the future.

God was already working in the heart of the Ethiopian through the words of Isaiah. I love this reminder of how powerful the word of God was and is, and it IS powerful from the first word of Genesis through the last word of Revelation. We should NEVER think that God's word is not enough. It alone is sufficient; it alone is God's power and conviction unto salvation.

Our part is to walk alongside "the one" for THE ONE, searching out the Scriptures, explaining them to the best of our abilities, and counting on the help of the Holy Spirit. Is this not a stellar reminder to continually be in God's word, to continually be associating with great teachers (so we are not misled by false teachings, and so we are capable of explaining the Scriptures when we are called to do so)?

Dear Father, thank you for the privilege of seeking out the one to share THE ONE. Remind me often of my commission and prepare him or her in advance to hear your powerful word. Let me never become lazy or complacent about sharing Jesus, even with the unlikely. In His Name I pray. Amen.

The Mirror Episode

"Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?" I don't think I know any female who has not grown up being socialized to fret about her reflection or her appearance in the mirror.

When I pass in front of my bathroom mirror, I often glance at the image, and I have to do a double-take. For a wild minute, I do not recognize the older, slightly crinkled face, the thick glasses and short blonde, white-speckled hair. Okay, I must confess, the white speckles might be more like patches, if I didn't visit my hair stylist routinely. Truth be told, I am not sure what my true hair color is. You get the idea! That woman, that stranger in the mirror, cannot be me!

The first mirrors were most likely pure, deep, dark pools of still water. In Greek mythology Narcissus saw his imperfect reflection in the water and fell in love with it!

The earliest manufactured mirrors were pieces of polished stone such as obsidian, a naturally occurring volcanic glass. Obsidian mirrors found in modern-day Turkey have been dated to around 6,000 B.C. Polished stone, polished copper, polished bronze, metal-coated glass, glass with gold leaf, blown glass coated with molten lead, glass coated with a tin-mercury amalgam, and polished glass coated with aluminum or non-toxic silver have all been used to manufacture mirrors. Humans have treasured their mirrors or looking-glasses for thousands of years.

Unfortunately, we seem to have fallen in love with our external images, with little regard for our internal beauty. I would venture to say that what we see in our looking-glasses is only a fractional depiction of who we truly are.

1 Corinthians 13:11-12 says, "When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me. Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known."

The imagery is of a polished metal (probably bronze) mirror, in which only an imperfect, distorted, obscure reflection is received. Similarly, when I look at the older woman in my bathroom mirror, my mind often does not register the real me. Instead I see a distorted younger version.

The good news is that my Lord knows me to the fullest degree, regardless of what my mind's eye sees reflected in my mirror. He does not need a mirror to see me. He sees my exterior and my interior completely. He searches me inside and out, and He loves me anyway. He knew my unformed body when I was knit together in my mother's womb. He knows every single hair of my white-speckled hair, and He knows my thoughts before I form or speak them.

The great news is that when He appears again, I will be like Him, and I will see Him as He is.

"Dear friends, now we are children of God, and what we will be has not yet been made known. But we know that when He appears, we shall be like Him, for we shall see Him as He is." 1 John 3:2

Now I see but a poor skewed reflection, but when He appears again, I will fix my eye on Him and see Him face to face, just as He is.

Be an Heir

From the moment my daughter was born, and I held her in my arms, I began praying for her to come to know the salvation that is only from the Lord and in the Lord. I have known and realized the baggage that has been present in my earthly lineage, in present and past generations. From the very instant I saw her precious face and peered into those beautiful blue eyes, I knew I wanted her to be an heir to a spiritual inheritance.

Every person of each generation has a brand new chance to dishinherit the guilt of the past, to repent before the LORD, to confess and turn away from the sins of our forefathers and from personal sins, and to completely and fully obtain a new heart and new spirit in Jesus Christ. Overt sin may not be evident, but if you are simply not involved in Christ's kingdom agenda, you are in dire need of the Savior!

Perhaps, you hunger to be the first heir who testitifes to your family line that they must move from an unfulfilling life of worldliness or even religiosity to a passionate life of a personal relationship with Christ. Perhaps your prayer for your own children, your grandchildren and your great-grandchildren might be a love for evangelism or for missions. Whatever, you might just be that heir.

Father in heaven, I pray that I might hear your teachings, that I might listen to the words of Your mouth. You are the Ancient of Days, the high and lofty One, that inhabiteth eternity. You ARE wisdom; unchanging, omnipresent, omniscient, omnipotent, our Creator, Redeemer, and Restorer. By Your Word, all is sustained. Let me be brave enough and obedient enough to tell the next generation Your praiseworthy deeds, proclaim Your power, and shout out the wonders You have done. Guide each one of us to move from "being religious" to being restored to a right relationship with You. Guide each one of us to be a first heir in our generation who moves in the direction of godly seed. Give each of us the wisdom and the power to break past yokes or burdens of slavery, and enable us to walk in freedom in YOU. Amen.

"O my people, hear my teaching;

listen to the words of my mouth.

I will open my mouth in parables,

I will utter hidden things, things from of old -

what we have heard and known,

what our fathers have told us.

We will not hide them from their children;

we will tell the next generation

the praiseworthy deeds of the LORD,

His power, and the wonders He has done.

He decreed statutes for Jacob

and established the law in Israel,

which He commanded our forefathers

to teach their children,

so the next generation would know them,

even the children yet to be born,

and they in turn would tell their children.

Then they would put their trust in God

and would not forget His deeds

but would keep His commands.

They would not be like their forefathers -

a stubborn and rebellious generation,

whose hearts were not loyal to god,

whose spirits were not faithful to Him.

Psalm 78:1-8

Freedom in Christ "It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery." Galatians 5:1

A Better Cure Than Windex

God has given me an odd sense of humor. The other day I was doing some light cleaning with Windex. It is a great remedy for hairspray on bathroom countertops (it saved my sanity when our daughter was home), shining stainless steel stovetops or sinks, cleaning toasters, microwaves, and refrigerators, and removing toothpaste from mirrors. As I was buffing away, I thought of the movie, "My Big Fat Greek Wedding," and I remembered that the dad, Michael Constantine, considered Windex a "cure-all" for everything from psoriasis to poison ivy.




Suddenly I thought - we should all bring our Windex bottles to church to squirt (anoint) our dear pastor, who is battling pancreatic cancer. When I finished laughing at that image of a congregation soaking its beloved pastor with Windex, I thought of Jesus. He is our Great Physician, our Healer, and our only genuine and perfect "Cure-All". He can remove any or all of our aches and pains according to His will and purpose.


We must turn to Him in faith, asking Him specifically for healing for our friends and families, and then trusting Him to accomplish the will of His Father. We must confidently rely on His answers, whether they are what we want or expect.

"The centurion heard of Jesus and sent some elders of the Jews to Him, asking Him to come and heal his servant. When they came to Jesus, they pleaded earnestly with Him, 'This man deserves to have you do this, because he loves our nation and has built our synagogue.' So Jesus went with them. He was not far from the house when the centurion sent friends to say to Him: 'Lord, don't trouble yourself, for I do not deserve to have you come under my roof. That is why I did not even consider myself worthy to come to you. but say the word, and my servant will be healed. For I myself am a man under authority, with soldiers under me. I tell this one, 'Go,' and he goes; and that one, 'Come,' and he comes. I say to my servant, 'Do this,' and he does it.' When Jesus heard this, He was amazed at him, and turning to the crowd following Him He said, 'I tell you, I have not found such great faith even in Israel.' Then the men who had been sent returned to the house and found the servant well. When the men came to Jesus, they said, 'John the Baptist sent us to you to ask, 'Are you the one who was to come, or should we expect someone else?' At that very time Jesus cured many who had diseases, sicknesses and evil spirits, and gave sight to many who were blind. So He replied to the messengers, 'Go back and report to John what you have seen and heard: The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cured, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is preached to the poor. Blessed is the man who does not fall away on account of me.'" Luke 7:3-10; 20-23

Dear Father, thank you for Jesus, the Greatest Physician of all times. Let me never try to use earthly solutions alone. Teach me to count on Christ, to have such faith as the centurion, laying before Him my desires for healing, and knowing the answer will be the perfect one. In His Name I pray. Amen.

Made to Be Broken

Recently a newfangled telephone was released with every option, tone, color, and button imaginable. The only problem - the reception when making a call was worse than any other telephone on the market.

Another exorbitantly expensive telephone offers calendars, email, address books, Internet, games, and scads of applications, yet technicians cannot figure out how to silence it when emails are delivered ... even when the phone is supposedly turned off. This device makes a loud, annoying interruptive "tone" every time correspondence is received.

A beautiful, sleek, attractive car is released. The only problem - the gas pedal sticks ... sometimes.

A lovely, navy blue and cream plaid ice bag claims to be "the best remedy for headaches - just like the Brits use". The only problem - it leaks near freezing cold water onto the broken or hurting body part, all surrounding clothes, nearby pillows, and furniture the first time it is used.

A round doughnut-shaped, ergonomic pillow, filled with microbeads is touted as having the ability to be molded into any possible pillow shape imaginable. The only problem - none of the shapes match any human body part I have ever seen.

A creative, innovative friend hired a professional crew to orchestrate a Batman-like flight across a church sanctuary for Vacation Bible School. The only problem - the zip line's construction, flexibility, and weight capacity caused a crash into stairs, rendering Batman unconscious, with broken bones.

In every one of these instances, the manufacturer knew the products were broken before they were put on the market. They were literally made to be broken.

Are we not similar? We were created with a freewill component, and our brokenness manifested itself blatantly in Adam and Eve's original sin. This first man and this woman each chose to be disobedient to the Creator's instructions.

How then is our made to be broken situation dissimilar?

Our Creator loved us so much and knew us so perfectly that He planned the solution even before the brokenness occurred. In our Lord's mercy, grace, love, and ultimate act of forgiveness, He provided His precious, beloved Son, Jesus Christ, as the once-and-for-all satisfaction; i.e., the solution to our sin debt.

Without this brokenness, would we ever have come to appreciate God so fully? Would we have come to know Him so intimately? From the very beginning, His purpose and design were for us to be in close relationship with Him ... forever.

"You do not delight in sacrifice, or I would bring it;

you do not take pleasure in burnt offerings.

The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit;

a broken and contrite heart,

O God, you will not despise."

Psalm 51:16-17

"But by the grace of God I am what I am, and His grace to me was not without effect. No, I worked harder than all of them - yet not I, but the grace of God that was with me." 1 Corinthians 15:10

"Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous man, though for a good man someone might possibly dare to die. But God demonstrates His own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us." Romans 5:7-9

"This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down His life for us." 1 John 3:16a

Father, I praise you and thank you for creating me with the capacity for brokenness. I am not sure whether I would have come to adore you otherwise. Your mercy never ceases to astound me. That Jesus loved me so much that He voluntarily laid down His life for me is almost beyond all comprehension. Thank you! Amen.

Butterfly Transformation

"And you also were included in Christ when you heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation. Having believed, you were marked in Him with a seal, the promised Holy Spirit, who is a deposit guaranteeing our inheritance until the redemption of those who are God's possession - to the praise of His glory." Ephesians 1:13-14

"And we, who with unveiled faces all reflect the Lord's glory, are being transformed into His likeness with ever increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit." 2 Corinthians 3:18

Looking at a caterpillar, one has difficulty imagining that this creepy - crawly, wormlike, hairy larva could possibly develop into a stunning, colorful, broad, four-winged butterfly. Yet, this life-cycle process, called metamorphosis, occurs on every continent except Antarctica. Since the change is so marked in appearance, character, condition, and even function, it is also referred to as transformation.

The transformation that Christ offers to wormlike, sinful humans is even more spectacular. Once a person has heard the Gospel and believed, we are marked in Christ with the seal of the promised Holy Spirit. We are guaranteed our eternal, heavenly inheritance, and we are promised that we will be completely transformed into the likeness of Christ when we see Him face-to-face.

How can we not be on-our-knees thankful for our promised and assured transformation? Count on God's Word; know that it and He are both trustworthy!

Father, I praise you and thank you for your holiness, majesty, loving grace, and your power. I thank you for being the Master Designer. I am humbled by your sacrificial love that has saved me. I thank you fervently for your Holy Spirit, who lives in me, empowering me, cleansing me, comforting me, and making You accessible and real to me. Lord, I pray for a willing and obedient heart as You transform me into the person you would have me be. Amen.

Homesickness

Tonight I feel a gut-wrenching, soul-screaming sadness - the kind that cuts like a knife and leaves a residual soreness, that just does not want to heal. I yearn to be at the Outer Banks. My mom and dad are buried in North Carolina - am I missing them? Am I missing my brother? Am I missing the beautiful Atlantic Ocean with its swells and salty air? Am I missing the beautiful beach, the dunes, the endless sand? Am I missing the sunrises and sunsets that cannot be matched anywhere in the world? Am I missing the peaceful solitude?

I can literally smell the salt of the sea. I feel the light, constant breeze in my hair. I feel the penetrating warmth of the brilliant sun on my face. I hear the flapping of seagull wings, and their clamoring cawing as they search for food. I hear the gentle roar of the crashing of the waves, and I picture the spectacular oranges, purples, lavenders, and pinks of the evening sky as the sun says goodnight. I remember the silvery shimmer of the morning sun across the ocean, as I watched it through the swaying reeds on the walkway, and I cannot wait to see a new dawn. Oh, how I miss those smells and images! Oh, how I miss the Atlantic's roar!

Where then shall I look for and find my peace? I feel like Job when he cried, "I have no peace, no quiteness; I have no rest, but only turmoil."

Only the LORD gives strength to His people; the LORD blesses them with peace! Quiet the restlessness of my soul; squelch the sadness of my heart and diminish the physical pain and homesickness.

I quietly rest in your words of John 14:27, "Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid."

"Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love,

for I have put my trust in you.

Show me the way I should go,

for to you I lift up my soul."

Psalm 143:8

Mosquitoes and Doggles

Today I saw something that was burst-out-laughing funny. A coworker at my husband's office brought in a photgraph of her dog wearing turquoise blue goggles. The dog was sitting in the driver's seat of a golf cart. This pooch loves riding in a golf cart, and her poor eyes were getting blasted by bugs. Solution? Her owner purchased dog goggles, which are actually called doggles, so she could still enjoy her rides.

I have never seen a dog with goggles. I have never even considered that a dog might need them. Advertisements promote this eyewear as perfect for the fashionable dog, great to protect a pet's eyes from harmful UV rays, wind, and dust. They are padded, are made of shatterproof polycarbonate, and have extra flexible comfortable rubber frames and anti-fog lenses. They are the preferred choice for search and rescue, police, and military dogs, hunting, and working dogs.

I am supportive of protecting a pet's eyes from wind, foreign debris, and the sun's rays. I support protecting their eyes for medical reasons, but when marketers use phrases like, "Your pet deserves these," or "These are perfect for the fashion conscious pup!", I have to shake my head in disbelief. Websites list prices from $9.49 to $30.00, and these doggie sunglasses are literally being marketed as fashion musts. Naturally, since pets deserve the best, multiple frames, sizes, and a dozen or so different colors are offered for the stylish, discerning dog.

Wikipedia says, "Despite being listed as one of the 'Most useless inventions ever,' Doggles were ranked #6 in a list of '11 ideas that shouldn't have worked - but made millions' by MSN Money, and by 2004, (doggles) were being sold in 4,500 shops in 16 countries and now include the option of prescription lenses."

Yikes! Let me just say, before I rush out to purchase doggles with racing flames for my granddog Ellie, I will pause. I will make sure that the wind is actually blasting our faces and our eyes with mosquitoes, and then, and only then, will I put on our goggles and enjoy life's ride!

Chihuly and Phipps

Phipps Conservatory in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania was absolutely beautiful in September 2007. Phipps is one of the United States' oldest and largest Victorian greenhouses. Coupled with Dale Chihuly's blown-glass exhibit, Phipps' distinctive botanical garders were a site to behold!

Dale Chihuly revolutionized the Studio Glass movement by expanding its original premise of a solitary artist working in a studio to collaborative teams. These teams, comprised of many talented artisans, led to the development of complex, vibrantly colored, multipart dramatic sculptures. He moved blown glass out of the confines of the small, precious object into the realm of huge contemporary sculpture and room-sized installations of organic, freestanding, plantlike imagery. He achieved patterns by fusing into the surface of his vessels "drawings" composed of prearranged glass threads. He then had his forms blown in optic molds, which created ribbed motifs. Breathtaking!

Chihuly's work is autobiographical, imprinted with his enchantment with abstracted flower forms. Remindful of his mother's Tacoma garden and marked by his love of the sea and his recognition of its importance to the Pacific Northwest's economy, his unique visions are profoundly insightful. They penetrate the soul in their beauty.

Earlier installations allude to natural phenomena such as icicles and vegetation, while Phipps' garden oases provided the perfect backdrop for Chihuly's exhibit. These plush gardens enabled him to juxtapose monumental, organically shaped sculptural forms with beautiful green vistas, establishing a direct and immediate interaction between God's nature, light, and art.

A prevailing presence in the art world, Dale Chihuly and his work provoke controversy between the art and craft debate. With projects such as his garden installations in Kew, New York, and Pittsburgh little doubt remains that his lasting contribution to art of my time is an established fact. Exuberant in spirit and ambitious in scope, these large-scale glass sculptures are housed in museums, concert halls, corporate offices, public spaces, and private residences around the world.

Enjoying them first-hand at Phipps was spectacular! The memory is embedded in my heart. God's gifting of this extraordinary talent to Dale Chihuly and His supplying such powerful beauty in nature was truly incredible to behold!

My Testimony

What do I mean when I say I am a Christian?

Scholars define a Christian as a follower or disciple of Jesus and His teachings; as someone who believes Jesus is the Christ or Messiah. Easton's 1897 Bible Dictionary says this term was given by the Greeks or Romans, probably in reproach, to the followers of Jesus. It was first used at Antioch. The names by which the disciples were known among themselves were "brethren," "the faithful," "elect," "saints," or "believers." As a distinguishing term from the multitude without, the name "Christian" came into use a few years after Christ's death, and was universally accepted. This name occurs only three times in the New Testament (Acts 11:26; 26:28; 1 Peter 4:16).

My past church background could aptly be described as cafeteria style in nature, and my attendance as sporadic. I was raised in the Episcopal Church, but was not active; I was married in the Methodist Church, and I was saved (or had my divine appointment with God) in February 1978 while attending a Grace Brethren Church. My husband and I spent the next 7 years in a very small independent, fundamental, country church, where we were loved, discipled, and mentored. However, when our daughter turned 2 years old, we joined a local Presbyterian Church because of its comprehensive children's programs.

In February 1978 I had exploratory surgery for unexplained abdominal pain. My husband and I had just moved into an unfinished, newly constructed, almost barren house. We even had to remember what physical need we were satisfying to determine which bathroom to use. My extended family lived hundreds and thousands of miles away. I felt alone, deserted, and uncertain. I certainly did not feel deserving of being close to God on any level.

Being a Christian means I fully came to understand and know with my heart, mind, and soul that God loves me and created me to have a personal relationship with Him, and He provided the means for that reconciliation to occur. When God enlightened me in 1978, I realized I was a sinful human separated from a holy and righteous God by my inherited original sin. I was deserving of death for my sin (Romans 3:23; Romans 6:23), but on a specific day, time, and place in February 1978, I yearned, actually I hungered in the depths of my being, to have a genuine and close relationship with the Lord.

God's word, the Bible, is referred to as a sharp, double-edged sword, and for me, it was. On that day of my divine appointment, I read a tract of the Gospel of John, given to me by friends while I was in the hospital. God literally removed blinders from my eyes as I read John 3. He specifically showed me that in His wonderful grace, or unmerited favor, He sent Jesus, (100% holy God), to become flesh, (100% man), to die a horrific death on the cross to pay the penalty for my sins, so I could be forgiven, justified, and reconciled to Him (Ephesians 2:8-9; John 3:16; Romans 5:8; 1 Peter 3:18). He was resurrected from the dead, and He ascended into heaven to sit exalted and crowned at the right hand of Almighty God, so I could be assured of eternal life in heaven (John 14:16; 1 Timothy 2:5; 1 Corinthians 15:3-6). Jesus called me through the Holy Spirit to repent of my sins, to confess them by aligning my thoughts with God's, and to totally trust Jesus Christ as my personal Savior and Lord (Acts 3:19). He turned me away from my sin to Himself, and Christ came into my life with love and power. By His grace, through faith, (Ephesians 2:8-9), I trusted Him to completely forgive my sins (past, present, and future), allowing Him to be the Master of my life (John 5:24).

Being chosen by my Almighty, amazing God, flabbergasted me then, and awes me now. I am overwhelmingly thankful that in February 1978, I kneeled in an unfinished bedroom with tears flowing and a contrite spirit, and was literally flooded with God's grace. Jesus inundated my heart and my life with a complete awareness of who He is, and my lifelong relationship with Him began! I am compelled to be His ambassador of the Good News (John 17). I live with the promise He is preparing a room for me in heaven as my inheritance, and is coming back to take me there to be with Him (John 10:27-29). No one can snatch me out of the Father's hand!

Psalm 100

Psalm 100 was the first Scripture I remember reading. When I was in third grade, my mother arranged for an elderly woman to come stay with my brother and me when our parents went out on Saturday night dates (way before date nights with your spouse were popular). She was a scrappy, fiery, fiesty, red-head, but she was a church-going lady, and one day she brought me a special gift.

To this day, I am not sure what prompted her kind generosity. I wish I had asked her before she died. She handed me a box wrapped in lovely gift paper, and when I opened it, and pushed aside the white tissue paper, I saw the most perfect suprise - a white Bible, with gold lettering, gold-tipped pages, and a gold zipper. On the front in the bottom right hand corner was my full name, imprinted in beautiful, perfect, gold letters.

I was overcome and unusually speechless for a third grader! I was half afraid to touch it, to open it. When I finally placed my hands on the cover and slowly laid it back, I saw the most beautiful colored pictures in the front - pictures of Jesus with children sitting at His feet, pictures of Him praying. I wish I could remember the other pictures, but I do clearly remember my delight!

She sat down beside me and turned the pages to Psalm 100, and my journey began.

Psalm 100 (NIV) - a psalm for giving thanks

"Shout for joy to the LORD, all the earth.

Worship the LORD with gladness;
come before Him with joyful songs.

Know that the LORD is God.
It is He who made us, and we are His;
we are His people, the sheep of His pasture.

Enter His gates with thanksgiving
and His courts with praise;
give thanks to Him and praise His name.

For the LORD is good and His love endures forever;
His faithfulness continues through all generations."

My Granddog

In mid June, my husband and I had a very interesting, if not comical weekend. We dog sat for our daughter's American bulldog. Ellie is considered a rescue dog because our daughter did not get her until she was almost 9 months old. At first glance, she reminds you of Petey on The Little Rascals (although Petey was a pitbull).

Our daughter and her boyfriend co-own Ellie. Shortly after they adopted her, they attended an eleven-week obedience school with about 35 other dogs and their owners. One week Ellie would be perfectly obedient and docile, and the next she behaved like a monster child. Probably the training was more for the owners than for the dogs. Since Ellie weighed about 60 pounds and was a solid mass of muscle, she was a handful on a leash. The first time I walked with her on the leash she almost jerked my arm right out of the socket!

I have been completely surprised at how much difference that training made. Ellie calmed considerably, and most of the time she minds. However, I still cannot believe I agreed to dog sitting. Let me just interject I am not a dog person, nor is my house dog-proof. Midweek before she came, I sat my husband down to lay out the "rules" - no Ellie on the furniture, no Ellie in the muddy woods, and no dirty dog paw prints on the white family room carpeting. Her last brief visit with our daughter included a long trek through the woods after it had rained for several days... argh!

Well, this visit entailed picking up Ellie, her kennel, her food, her treats, toys, her soft blankies, spot cleaner, and her leash. We gathered up as much paraphernalia as any toddler would have! I cannot believe how nervous I was as we drove away with Ellie on the backseat. I had visions of a cartoon dog tearing through the house leaving in its wake black paw prints and chewed up shoes.

Instead, I fell in love with this mutt. Actually, she is a pure bred, but I think of her as a mutt. The first morning I let her out of her kennel, she barreled onto our bed, smack dab on top of my husband's head. I could not stop laughing at his surprise, his amusement, and her sheer glee.

I am delighted to report we survived dog-sitting, even though I was totally exhausted by the end of our weekend. My white carpeting has reminiscent evidence of her playful escapades, my kitchen floor has been officially christened with dog slobber from her ice chewing and drinks of water, my ottoman smells a teeny "doggy" (yes, she was allowed to lay on the ottoman), and an ancient blue and white afghan she became attached to now has a new home, but I am most assuredly in love.

First Name Basis

The other day I think my age and my upbringing by a gracious and genteel Southern mom surfaced. A young teenage girl automatically addressed me by my first name, without asking permission to do so. The hair on the back of my neck stood up, and after getting over the shock that I was actually offended, I started considering why I was so irritated.

I barely knew this young lady, and she certainly did not know me, yet she did not hesitate to call her elder (significantly her elder) by a first name. She presumed she was my equal, and she assumed I would not mind.

I felt disrespected. My Southern mother taught me to address my elders "Mr., Mrs., or Miss", and I always answered, "Yes, ma'am," "No, ma'am," or "Yes, sir," "No, sir." Those polite responses were automatic. They showed respect and a submission to the wisdom and authority of one who was older. If an adult ever granted me permission to refer to them by their first name, I felt honored and privileged!

The word "respect" is defined as: esteem for or a sense of the worth or excellence of a person, a personal quality or ability; to hold in esteem or honor; to show regard or consideration for; to show deferential regard for; a willingness to show consideration and appreciation. Respect is commonly the result of admiration, together with deference. Esteem is deference combined with admiration and affection.

I strongly suggest we not teach our children and grandchildren to speak or act with brazen attitudes of presumption and entitlement. Instructing them to display respect and deference for their elders is one small gift we may bestow on them. Good manners and social comportment are still important to our culture!

Hoosier

I am a Hoosier, which the dictionary defines as a native or inhabitant of Indiana. Upon digging deeper, I discovered the nickname has no known origin. The first recorded instance of Hoosier meaning "Indiana resident" is dated 1826. Some speculate the word began as a disparaging term used by neighboring states, but belittled residents adopted the nickname in a spirit of defiant pride. We most definitely exhibit stubborn pride!

I have been a resident of Indiana for almost 55 years, and I am proud to be a Hoosier. Our state is overflowing with some of the most beautiful lakes, ponds, and rivers in the world. Our water past times include sunbathing, skiing, torpedo riding, barefooting, canoeing, kayaking, fishing, and swimming. Our sunrise scenery inspires visitors to grab a cup of tea or a glass of juice and sit on porches just to soak in the beauty of the morning sun shimmering across the water.

Bird life and wild life abound in rural areas. An especially spectacular sighting along the Tippecanoe River involves the blue heron. This wading bird, with its long neck, long legs, a long pointed bill, and bluish gray plumage is a solitary feeder, and a long strider. Herons usually forage while standing in water, especially around dawn or dusk, but sometimes they literally drop from the air to feed. That dropping swoop takes my breath! Their wingspan can range from 5.5 feet to 6.6 feet and is greater than its height. Seeing a blue heron in flight is an experience to behold!

My Moniker

The moniker "VolleymomDee" originated over a decade ago. My husband, Dan, was coaching our daughter's travel volleyball team, and I was "volunteered" to be the team chaperone. I thought I was agreeing to be the team mom, the encourager. I was clueless about what the role really entailed. I was the pack mule for First Aid creams, ribbons, make-up, hairbrushes, feminine products, deodorants, water bottles, extra pillows, and snacks. I made travel arrangements and kept track of finances, hotel reservations, room assignments, and tournament locations. I made sure every player had a clean uniform. As a detail-obsessed individual, I managed my tasks successfully.



What I didn't realize was just how attached I would become to these amazing young ladies. As I listened to their tirades when things did not go well and participated in their celebrations, God gave me short glimpses of who they were to become - beautiful, intelligent, successful women. Some are now mothers, some are career-focused, and some juggle both. I look back on that time with such joy, and I am delighted the nickname, "VolleymomDee," remains.