Cutting Words...

When I was growing up, manners were prevelent. We were raised to use good manners and to be respectful of others. We were taught that we'd be judged by the things we said and did, and the thought that no one would like us if we were rude kept us in our places. It was the way things were in those days.

Oh, I'm sure that there were bullies back then. In fact, I'd run into a few of them in school, and I went out of my way to be nice to them anyway or to steer clear of them altogether. A Biblical quote my Mother used often was 'the golden rule.'  "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you."  I heard it echo through my head whenever I'd even think of returning a nasty comment with one of my own, which wasn't very often, to be honest.

When I began to learn about Biblical ways on my own, I discovered that the tongue needs to be 'bridled.'  We need to control our impulses to spew out anything that comes to mind in a given circumstance. That is a wonderful form of discipline for a person and saves many a relationship, I'm sure.   Our tongue is capable of soothing hurts or causing them, and we should be mindful to guard them from the latter.

These days, with so much electronic interaction between people, ie social networks, emails , blogging, etc. it's often difficult to know how someone's comment was meant to be taken.  Sometimes, however, there is no doubt. Such was the case when a comment went anonymously to a lovely woman who writes a blog I regularly read. There was no doubt that the writer of the comment had an opinion, which is certainly her right to share, but how that opinion was expressed could have been so much less hurtful. It was an unmistakeable attack.

We would all be wise to practice the art courtesy and good manners when dealing with one another, even when opinions vary drastically. If we want to walk together in peace, it is a necessity, not an option.

New Toy!

Do you remember when you were a child, and a new toy came into your possession? Remember the excitement you felt and the anticipation you had before you had a chance to try it out?  I do!  One Christmas my Dad built stilts for us. Actually, I think they were for my brothers, but I didn't have a pair. Still, we shared pretty well...sometimes...and I looked forward to having a chance to try them.  I wasn't good at it, as it turned out, so I left them for Tom to play with alone. He had mastered them immediately!

The boys got pogo sticks on another Christmas. None of us could stay on those for long, but we had lots of fun trying.  Another year Dad built a go-cart for us, with a lawn mower engine and two real bucket seats from an old car, and a real steering wheel.  The first time I drove it, I tried to turn the wheel and hit the brake at the same time, but didn't quite do the trick. I ran it straight into the brambles and briars at the end of our cul de sac!  I sat there laughing so hard, until the boys came down the road to pull me out of the underbrush!

Thus far, I've spoken of the boys toys. I had plenty of my own new things too! One of my favorites was a gift from my father on my birthday. It was a 'doll making kit'.  It had little wooden heads with faces painted on, an assortment of plastic wigs that snapped into a hole at the top of the head, and a bunch of pipe cleaners to twist into bodies. Then there were scraps of fabric with which to make clothing for them. I had hours of fun with those.

I didn't mean to get into childhood toys!  I started this because I wanted to tell you about my new, grown up toys!  I'm as excited about them as I was as a child.  They are paper racks from a scrapbook store that closed!  I now have tons of proper space for my many scrapbook papers and card stock!  It took awhile to get the thing in place and bolted together, and we still have one  more to do today. But, oh! how wonderful and organized things will be once they are all in place! 

Yesterday, after the first one was put together, I began to load it. The hard part was to figure out how to place the papers, in color order. I want it to be easy to go to just the right pile for my project, so I've stacked the neutrals at the top, with piles of red, blue, green, etc beneath them. Some of the stack pack pads are left in tact, I can always get those free if  I can't find the perfect sheet in the rack.

My daughter will be so pleased!  So will I...finally I'm inspired to truly get that spot organized!

That Kind of A Day

The other day was cool and gray and rainy.  I didn't mind having that kind of day for a change. The area needs the rain, for sure, and I needed a break from getting the house in shape for guests who would be coming soon.

Something seemed to be missing, though. It felt as if it was the kind of day where a fire on the hearth would be most welcome.  It wasn't that cold, but it seemed to me that the warmth of a fire would improve the atmosphere. Then it occured to me that there was a second ingredient missing. The fireplace.

We bought a farmhouse style home, a newly built one in a subdivision. I love the floorplan and the room, but there are certain things not here that I'd have been pleased to have included, should I have built the place.  Yes, the  deep fireplace of brick, with a swinging crane to hang a cast iron pot from, for nights of cooking on an open flame or popping corn in the long handled metal popper.  It would be framed by a rustic wood 'surround' which included a simple mantle.  Another thing would be wood floors throughout the home, preferably wideboard pine, in warm honey tones.  I agree that it's very nice to wake up and put your bare feet on fuzzy, thick, warm carpet, but I don't like having to clean it or even look at it. It's just not my taste.

The only other things I think I really wish for in this place are two more windows in the living room. Our room faces north, and the front porch roof shields the light, so the sitting room is quite dark and a bit chilly, as well. A window each side  of a fireplace on the side wall would suit the room well. 

Then, of couse, an old-fashioned deep, single, cast-iron kitchen sink, the kind my Grandmother had with the drainboard and backsplash built into it would be perfect.  In my opinion, these stainless steel, small,  double sinks aren't worth the trouble they take to install. You can't get a cookie sheet into them or a large frying pan either.  And one more thing...a deep, cast iron, claw foot tub!  Oh how I miss the one we had in the old house. You could fill it and lie there for a good while, covered by the hot water. When you pulled the plug, the water would still be warm!

Do I sound as if I'm complaining? I hope not. I am just dreaming...  Am I being covetous?  Perhaps I am. I truly am grateful for this house and for our happy life within its walls, but there are things that I think of that would make it even more comfortable. Maybe in time they will make their way into our lives.  In the meantime, I will concentrate on being content with such things as I have. 

Sometimes I do too much thinking. I guess it's just that kind of a day.

A Lazy Saturday

It's  Saturday, with the rain pounding on the roof. I  love Saturdays...and I love rain.  I don't feel particularly ambitious, having spent a restless night...again.  This weather causes me to feel sleepy, too, so I'm thinking that today's work load will be lighter than usual, letting machines do most of the work....like the laundry and the dishes.

I have a lot of 'busy work' to do too. I've got to think of a menu plan for guests who will be here next month, and see what's in the larder and what needs to be shopped for. There is mending waiting and my cards to make for our church people's birthdays, etc.  I'm making a gift for a new baby, too, so perhaps I'll get to that in awhile.  The heavier things will wait until next week, I guess. 

My plans to do some sanding and painting of some wooden items for the house will have to wait too.  I started yesterday, and got the bench painted. It needs another coat, though, before I can sand the spots I need to in order to make it look more primitive.  How silly is that, really? To purchase a wooden bench, newly made by an Amish man, John Bieler, many years ago in New Holland, Pennsylvania, hold on to it all this time, and then sand it, paint it, and scuff it up to look old?  Well, silly or not...that's what I'm doing.

I seem to have a want to make things look old, even if they aren't, in my decorating. It's my current fad, while I do my best to ward off my own aging!  It's kind of ironic, I guess. I don't go overboard on trying to make things look older, most of them already ARE pre-used things. More than that, I don't put a great deal of exertion in trying to preserve my own youth, either.  I sort of go with the flow, doing the best I can to look as well as I can, while preserving as much health as I am able. 

But today, I barely have the energy to put moisturizer on my skin!  I'm grateful that I have nothing pressing to do and absolutely nowhere to go.   It truly is a lazy Saturday!

A Different Kind of Blog, Part 2

Bible sighed as he watched Owner, who had risen from the chair and was pacing. Looking at the day through the rain splatter window pane, Owner  noticed that there were a couple of people walking up the driveway toward the front door. "Oh great," he muttered. He was not in the mood to see anyone and certainly not a couple carrying what looked like Bibles. He went to the wooden front door and stood behind it where he couldn't be seen. The doorbell rang loudly. He ignored it.
It rang twice more before the couple turned and walked away, down the driveway to the street.  Owner waited a few minutes and then returned to the window where he could see the couple getting into a black car and driving away.

He went to the kitchen and made a cup of coffee. He sat in 'his' chair at the table and took a long gulp of the strong, hot liquid. It did nothing to steady his shaken spirit. He was feeling down and hopeless. The phone rang. He rose and went to the phone, flicking the switch so that he wouldn't hear the ringing.  He wanted to be alone  to come to grips with his situation and to try to think up a resolution.  He picked up his coffee mug and went back to his recliner chair, where he plunked himself, staring off into the sparcely furnished room.

He sat like that for a half hour until he heard the mailman slam shut the stubborn door of the mailbox.  He gave the mailman a moment or two to move on to his next stop, and then Owner went to collect the day's mail.  As he lifted the handful of envelopes from the box, a small folded paper peeked out from between the Lowe's ad and the water bill.  All he could see of it was  "Got Problems?" written on the glossy little booklet.  He pulled it out of the stack, and held it in his hand as he tossed the pile of mail on the table next to his chair.

He looked at the front of the tract.  There, under the question that had caught his attention, was a photograph of a man who sat, running his hands through his hair. He looked as if he was under some real pressure. He looked as if he felt just the way Owner was feeling.   Owner began to read the small black type beneath the photo.  "Come unto Me, all ye who are weak and heavy laden. I will give you rest." Matt. 11:28    "Come unto who?" Owner said as he kept reading. He read the entire tract, seeing words that said that God loved him and cared how his life was spent. It said that God was there for him and no matter what the circumstance, that God would help him through it.  The little pamphlet explained how a person could get 'saved' from sin, from a life that displeased God. It went on to say that once the request for forgiveness was made in earnest, God would send His Spirit to lead the way, to protect and to help the reader to grow in the Light of God's Love by the reading of His Word, the Bible, and by getting involved in a Bible believing church. Then.... it asked the reader to make a decision for Christ.

Owner's heart was beating hard.  He hadn't even thought about God in years. He'd gone to Sunday School as a child, but it wasn't continued after he was in the sixth grade. His head was swimming with the disaster that his life had become, and the thoughts that there was Someone who said He cared and could help.  Owner reread the entirety of the small four pages. Then he read it again. With every word, he felt, "I need to give this a try. If it's true, it's going to help. If it's not true, well, I'll be no worse off. But I won't know if I don't give it a try."

Owner held the paper between his fingers, as he read aloud the prayer for forgiveness. As he did, he felt his heartbeat slowing. He felt his spirit quieting. In a moment, he realized that he had read the prayer...but he didn't think it was more than reading. He felt that he needed to put it into his own words. He sat, with his eyes closed, quiet for a moment, and then he spilled it all out to God in his own words. He didn't stop with the asking for forgiveness. He asked God to really be there, to really be his friend through all of his life. Owner asked Him to show him how to live a more pleasing life in God's ways, not his own.  He  finished his prayer. He'd found relief in the meaningful, tearful talk he'd just had with God.

He looked again at the little tract. On the last page it read, 'Get to know Jesus. Start with the Gospel of John."  Owner got up, walked to the bookshelf, scanned the titles, and he gently picked up the book with black leather cover. The gold letters read, "The Holy Bible. "  He slowly walked back to his chair and began to thumb through the pages, until he found the book of John. 

Outside the sun was breaking through the gray clouds. Inside of Owner, the Son was breaking through the gloomy spirit. Was this the beginning of a new outlook? What would this mean for Owner's future. As time goes on, we may find out. In the meantime, we will wait to see.

Aunts: Part Five

The fact is that I had two more aunts that really should be mentioned, although I didn't know them at all. They were my mother's half sisters. My grandfather had been a young man with two babies when his first wife died of diabetes. His mother took the role of caregiver to her granddaughters, as he was a working man.

When Grandpa remarried two or three years after the death of his first wife, the babies had known no other 'mother' than the grandmother. I suppose that's the reason they remained with her rather than coming to live with my grandfather and grandmother. I'm not sure whether I agree with that decision, but it doesn't matter, as it was not mine to make.

I did meet both of these aunts in my childhood. I went to school with some of their children, and my children were in classes with their children, but we had no real 'family' relationship with them. I know very little of any of them other than what I've written. I hope they were secure and happy being raised by grandparents, rather than parents, and I pray they didn't feel as if they'd been abandoned or unwanted by their father and his new wife. I think, if I was in their place, that thought might have crossed my mind. But, this was not my story... it was theirs, and I'm afraid I must bring it to an end, for lack of information.

A Different Blog Entry

This morning I'll present a different sort of blog entry.  Sometimes you get 'writer's block'  or feel that what you have to write is 'flat' and not worth presenting. So, for fun, I looked for an idea that would kick start my creative engine. The idea here is to write about two characters, with the Bible being one of them.  This is  what the result was, once I started writing.  I don't know whether I will return to this, or whether it is finished. We will see in the future.

Bible sits upon the book shelf, lonely, silent and ignored. One day, Owner comes to the bookshelf, scanning the titles, anxious for something to read that will take his mind off the many weighty issues he thinks about. Bible whispers, "choose me, choose me! I can help you."

Owner chooses a crime novel, not a light-hearted story, for sure. Bible slips back into silent retreat, the whispered desires have been unheard. Owner walks away and plunks himself heavily into his arm chair. As he begins to read, the words wind around his inner thoughts, and briefly take him away to a world darker than his own life. But it doesn't last, and before long, Owner's life invades his thoughts again.

Bible watches as Owner puts the book down on his side table and lays his head against the back of the recliner. He put his hand up to his forehead and rubbed his temples. As he did, he tapped his foot as his stress returned. His life was plagued with upset these days. His place of employment was cutting jobs a few at a time, and he felt that his might be one of them in the near future. It is never a good time to lose a job, but now would be the worst. In his area, work was scarce, and he would be over-qualified for anything that might be available. On top of that, his life had been one big party-time, and he was reaping the benefits of that.


Bible could see these looming clouds and knew that there were things between his covers  that could help to encourage Owner. But, Bible would not shout out. He would not plunge himself into the hands of Owner when the books were being scanned. Bible sat patiently waiting. Perhaps there would come a time in the future when Owner would notice that Bible was there.