Praise the Lord!
On the way back from a concert, in the rain, late last night, our
daughter Brenda, her fiance, Chip, and his brother, Pete, were spared
after they were hit broadside by a drunk driver on a bridge in Seattle,
WA. The car was hit on the passenger side where Brenda was, and shoved
them into a guardrail. All were checked out, there were no injuries. The car is totaled.
That’s an excerpt of a prayer of praise message to the church email prayer chain. I want everyone to know what God did for my family this weekend and sing His praises for His grace.
Isn’t it wonderful when God sees things our way and spares our children without injury? I was at work when my daughter called to report the incident and assure me that all was well. Well, not quite. I’m a little teary eyed in Tennessee, and they’re in Seattle. I can’t just hop a plane to go hug them, nevertheless …..whew. I am swimming in gladness and gratitude. God is good.
If you’re new to Across the Flow, take some time to pick through some archives and meet the family. We enjoyed our daughter’s company over Christmas, had a few quiet days off and reluctantly returned to work Tuesday morning, the 3rd day of a new year. We were met with the news that our co-worker’s 21 year old daughter was killed instantly by a drunk driver on her way to a friend’s wedding rehearsal on Friday evening, December 30th. Wilma and Mike are understandably devastated. Mine are tears of joy and another mother can’t walk or talk. Why her?
This physical phase of our eternal existence seems so solid, such a sure thing. No, just current. And temporary. I could crash on my way home and be hurtled into Jesus’ arms in a split second. I could get really philosophical at this point, but it would all be conjecture. Yesterday, my daughter and her fiance and his brother escaped harm. Wilma’s daughter is Home. I don’t get it, except maybe to suggest that no one but God is in control. He numbers our days.
Rather than let that statement cause me to be insecure, afraid to walk out of the house, afraid to let my kids live their lives when I want to protect them, I will choose to wrap myself in the comforting security blanket of knowing Who holds us in His hand.
That’s easy to say when He sees it my way.
Salad Days
There are umteen types of salads these days but if it refers to the standard Tossed Salad, I know how to apply it to me.
Jesus got my attention at a very early age. One of my earliest and fondest memory is of Dad sitting in his armchair reading the Bible out loud. Those evening devotions were usually followed by standing in a tight circle, holding hands, and reciting the Lord’s prayer, a pattern for all prayers. I remember being very short. Surrounded, I was looking up at all their faces, eyes shut, heads bowed. What a precious foundation.
Then we got our first TV and the evenings were full of Lassie, Lucy, and westerns.
We didn’t exactly lose touch with God; the parents were faithful church going born-again baptized Christians. Some of us, maybe all three of us girls, weren’t as excited and devoted as the parents, but hey…what kid is? Once in a while we would try the "I’m sick" routine which usually backfired when Mom gave us "the look." Occasionally she conceded with the admonition that the dishes had better be done by the time church was out. Other times, if we weren’t able to produce puke, we went to church. Those episodes of attempted deception made it all the more difficult to convince her of our sincerity when we really were sick. In such a case, a fever, a rash, and airborne phlegm was helpful if puke couldn’t be produced on command.
Not only did we undergo various stages of duress in our Go To Meetin’ years, we were expected to participate. Sunday School perfect attendance pins, certificates of graduation to the next class, memorization, VBS, camp, youth groups, teaching a younger age group’s Sunday School class, and choir, all solid discipline and contributors to a well rounded Bible education—head knowledge.
I don’t for one second dismiss the value of head knowledge if it is administered accurately by a study of Bible doctrine rather than dogma. That behavioral framework of Christianity was a useful tool after I gave Jesus my full and focused attention on the morning of August 18, 1968. Up to that point I will call my upbringing in the church boot camp. After that date, it made sense. I got it. August 18th, a hot summer Sunday, marks the marriage commitment. I took His name, my spirit bears His mark. Through the obedience of baptism by immersion, His Holy Spirit became my teacher and lighthouse.
Mom and Dad were so hurt that I declared my salvation as an 18 year old when they could clearly remember my first baptism at age 12. Didn’t that one take? If I had experienced a genuine commitment instead of doing what was expected of me at age 12, it would have. Besides, if I were to travel to the Holy Land, I would want to be baptized in the Jordan for the sheer joy of the experience.
All that said, you will not find, no matter how carefully you look, a halo anywhere near my head. I am still, after 37 years, 5 months, 8 days, and counting, a work in progress. Since that moment, my church participation, so well trained and ingrained in my youth, has been one big Tossed Salad, my personal version of Salad Days.
- I have consistently been a willing choir participant and still enjoy it.
- Experience teaching a Sunday School class is peppered with success and failure: peer group good, sixth grade bad.
- In Litchfield, all the mothers plus volunteers took turns in the nursery. I am not suited for the nursery. Trust me.
- Taking turns in leadership roles in the Women’s Missionary Circle would, in my personal experience, fall under the Frustration, not the Stellar Performance column heading.
- Do not ask me to lead VBS again. I will have to hurt you.
- Small groups, the new foundation for growth and ministry, is growing strong.
I think it has taken me all of this 37 years and a total of 8 congregational experiences, 6 of which were between Aug of ‘68 and Dec of ‘72, to find a happy spot. I think one gift I have identified is encouragement. Dad had it too. I make people smile. A personal ministry has been to make baby blankets. Crochet comes easily to me but is a big deal to new moms who wouldn’t have time for it if they thought of it. That becomes a blessing for me.
The ups, the downs, the bright and the dark, sweet and sour, are tossed and seasoned with salty tears and the many flavors of laughter. They all have contributed to who and what I am.
Bloom where you are planted. Dance when life is tossed.
Off Button
Today marks Martin Luther King’s birthday. He stands for taking a stand, doing something, despite any cost. He used the platform available to him to make a change, to point out what was wrong, to speak out. Take a minute and look up something about King on the Internet. Investigate a legacy today.
Simultaneous to remembrance of a violent transition, there’s been a huge flap out there about The Book of Daniel, the story of a seriously dysfunctional family whose pill dependent leader just happens to be an Episcopal priest. Protesters have been speaking up and want to talk about it.
Last Sunday, after the debut on Friday, I was offering my disapproval of the premise based on reports and one of our class members actually watched it (how novel an approach to a discussion). He didn’t see it in the same light. He sympathized with the character. Okay. But what were the author’s motives, and the studio’s motives? Were they ignorant of real Christianity (y’think?) or were they expressly attempting to misrepresent Christianity and why? So we agreed to keep our eyes and ears open to further comment and watch the next episode.
We both were busy and missed it. However, during the week I pulled some reviews off the internet, and printed them for him. It seems that NBC’s statement was that they were endeavoring to and believed they had actually succeeded in representing the average Christian family! The author says Jesus was a nice guy with some good ideas, if He had even existed. Real authorities here; lots of research….not.
What the talk show host insisted was that protesting only makes people want to see it more. The best way to kill a program you don’t want out there is to ignore it and turn the button to OFF. He was yelling! And he would not change his mind (I guess he has the right not to) after multiple callers pointed out that there are impressionable kids out there whose parents aren’t around to turn the button to Off.
Let me point something out that we should have learned from the 60’s. Speaking up, demonstrating, and marching works. Ignoring something like this does not make it go away. I have gone on record several times in saying that the 60’s generation (that would be my peers–I was there to see it) and its relentless protesting of the Evil Establishment has caused irreparable harm to the family and other areas of our lives to this day. The same system of protest worked to the good for civil rights in the south. My point is not what I do and don’t approve of. My point is that had no one spoken up, certain things would not have been changed.
When I was growing up we knew a family out in the country who didn’t own a TV or a radio. They read, they worked, they …. actually, I’m not sure what they filled all their time with, but it wasn’t TV or radio. Yet, despite their decision to ignore programming they didn’t approve of, it was broadcast anyway. Without them. All in the Family proceeded with breakthrough programming without them. Without who?
I turn away from Fear Factor. It’s stupid. Is it still running? I deplore Sex in the City by virtue of its title. Never tuned in. Their feelings weren’t hurt. Wild Girl ads are running during CSI breaks on Spike. They didn’t ask me if it was ok. Desparate Housewives? Very successful. I tuned it out. It’s still running.
Who am I if I don’t introduce myself? Where am I if I’m not seen? Nothing stops without resistance. Discuss it. Examine it. Test it against your inborn sense of right and wrong and if it’s necessary to stop it, fight it.
The most successful means by which to lose is to do nothing. Passivity is consent.
Tag, I’m apparently It
Is there a pop quiz tomorrow?
4 jobs you have had in your
life
1. Human Resource Manager, Dept.of One
2. Accounts Receivable clerk
3. Third shift trainer, most fun allowed on a paying job
4. Bookkeeper at the family furniture store
4 Movies You Could Watch
Over and Over
1. The Quiet Man, John Wayne and Maureen O’hara. Go get it. Now. Watch.
2. The Music Man, timeless music that follows me for weeks at a time (Madam Librarrrrrrrrrrr…………ian)
3. Young Frankenstein, trying to set a viewing record
4. The Last of the Mohicans, Daniel Day Lewis is such a hu…… great actor.
4 Places You Have Lived
1. East Tennessee
2. Litchfield, MN
3. Minneapolis-St.Paul area, at least 5 addresses
4. Cameron, Illinois
4 TV Shows You Love To Watch
1. CSI
2. Monk
3. Fox News Channel
4. 24, just getting into it
4 Places You Have Been On Vacation
1. The Soo (if you have to ask, you haven’t been there)
2. San Francisco
3. wherever my kids are
4. Mackinac Island
4 Websites You Visit Daily
1. Jules’
2. FOX News
3. WND
4. Rush Limbaugh
4 Of Your Favorite Foods
1. Steak, ok, beef in general
2. Potatoes, I’m Irish
3. Cheesecake
4. Most veggies, cooked and/or raw
4 Places You Would Rather Be Right Now
1. Playing with Drew
2. Seattle
3. Rochester
4. Globe hopping with my family like some super rich person
4 people I’d like to see answer this
I think I’m the end of the blog line.
The Swirl of Snow
No, we’re not going to be buried in snow. People have their noses pressed against windows in six counties wishing with all their might for The Big One. Goin’ home now, snow’s a-comin’! The announcer on 100.3 this morning called it a Car Hood snowfall. Nothing accumulating anywhere but on car hoods, grass tips, maybe a dusting on the porch roof. But the prediction of snowfall, even the possibility of small amounts in the "higher elevations" has the airwaves all abuzz. Schools shut down before the clouds move in and don’t re-open until the last dirty little grey ice smear disappears from the last remote back road. And outsiders wonder why Tennessee schools are a blazing 48th in edjukashun. Where I grew up schools were open to whomever could get there. That was west central Illinois and we got all the winter weather.
Would it not be more reasonable for southern states to run the school year March through November? Somebody told me there’s a district nearby that runs year round with several 2 week breaks. They love it.
It didn’t take a month after we moved here to hear the snow legends. My parents talked about Bank Runs when the Great Depression hit in ‘29. Here we have Food Runs. Sometimes I think the forecasters purposely shout SNOW and send out the camera crews to catch people dashing and buggies bashing, plowing their way through the aisles to stock up on bread and milk. The radio talk show host asked the announcer about the bread and milk thing this morning. He said it’s really bread, milk, cigarettes, and toilet paper — a Snow Casserole. The toilet paper is the pan liner.
We were told of power outages that lasted for days. I come home on a sunny summer day and find all the clocks flashing. Did it snow?
Watch out for the trees! Trees? We have mostly pines which are notorious for having a shallow root system. So when it rains too many days in a row followed by any kind of wind and snow, they can literally detach and slide down slopes many of which are located adjacent to roadways, very adjacent to roadways. We don’t have ditches or shoulders on a large number of roads here. Some of them don’t have yellow lines down the center because if they did, there wouldn’t be room for two vehicles.
And that brings me back to why schools close at the threat of snow. I’ve seen too many curly, hilly, narrow back roads. I wouldn’t want a child of mine in a school bus with no seat belts tipping and sliding down an embankment.
Anyway, we’re waiting for snow but there’s no celebration, no gleeful rubbing of the hands. Like, who wants to be snowbound on a Saturday, for cryin’ out loud?
Remember to check under the bed too
Not every year. But discovery of stocking stuffers I had hidden under the bed didn’t stop at January 6th. So if there’s something currently hiding somewhere in the house that was intended for Christmas this year, you have to wait until sometime in May or June to hear about it.
One year, ‘96? ‘97?, summertime?, I opened a drawer and found some Christmas ornaments. One was a motorcyle and rider, one was a ship’s captain’s face in a ship’s wheel, and was the other one a crystal angel? There were three of them. I had only a vague idea where they may have come from and who they were for (oh, maybe Randy, Brenda, and Stan??). My only hint that I had once again hidden Christmas stocking stuffers was the string attached to hang on a tree. Where in the world…… OH YES! Victoria, Vancouver! Randy and I drove from Denver to Bremerton, WA to see my cousin, Bob Smart. Great trip! Being that close, we took the ferry to Victoria. Beautiful sunny day, mid 70’s, perfect. We walked all over the city. We stopped and listened to the street musicians, and took in the sights.
Randy, there’s an Irish pub and I’m Irish. I want to try some Guinness. Mom, it’s beer. I know that. Mom, you hate beer. Right. It’s for the record. Okaaaay…..Never, ever again. That little bitty 4 oz. glass of Guinness black beer will last me a lifetime. But the pub was classy. Etched glass, old, dark polished woodwork, great atmosphere. The Guinness was nasty. I think I made it through 2 ounces. Chalk it up to experience. We left the pub, I think I took a picture. The backlash took about a block to manifest and smacked me upside the head. I took the arm of my designated walker and admired the smallest details of our surroundings, pointing at this and that. Let’s go in here!! Ohhh, Christmas ornaments!! (eye roll)Need I say more? Not only did it slip what was left of my mind who the individual recipients were, once those ornaments hit the bag, they were gone. Life can be so fun.Would someone please respond and tell me if you received one of these carefully thought out gifts? If not, I need to start digging for them.
Have a nice day.
Winding Down
The downside of Christmas is packing the decs back in the storage bins in such a way that they won’t be scrunched up, lights won’t be broken, and there will be as many hooks as there are balls. I know I store them carefully and in an orderly fashion — every time! – but sometime during the changing moods of the seasons, they get restless in there. When December rolls around again, Santa’s upside down, Snowman is smashed into Candle, Garland wraps around Camel, and Wise Man — I don’t want to know the details. I wonder, if I listened carefully, would I hear giggles coming from inside the shed this spring?
This last Sunday, the tree was suddenly in the way and is currently in three pieces in a laundry basket in the screened porch. It looks pitiful. And creepy. The two remaining Dayton’s Santa Bears grin at us, clueless of the season’s demise. Well, they don’t eat much, so I won’t stress out. Let ‘em sit there.
Stan’s going to a Leadership Retreat this Friday night and Saturday. (Yippeee) No offense, Stanley. But after 30+ years, you know it takes a good 36 hours to get lonesome when you live and work together. It goes both ways.
Whatever shall I dooooo with my time? Tax stuff!! Who said that? A pox on you! Multiple choices are holding up their little hands, but Anna’s baby is due February 16 and her blanket’s on row 15 of 75 after which comes a double ruffle. Haul out the DVDs, the videos, and the ottoman.
I’ll check back with my readers after my eyes have been blinded by snow white yarn and carpel tunnel is crouching in the corner.
Supper’s ready. I’ll talk to ya later.
2006, Here We Come
Today is the 11th and last day of my vacation, three nights of which I slept really well. That’s worth noting since the fitful sleep patterns have far exceeded the restful ones since the summer of 2000. Again, my favorite scripture, "It came to pass", not to stay.
Tomorrow, Jan 3, is my first day of 2006 and the busiest of the year with payroll changes. After that, I look forward to ‘06. The first two months, I will be turning all the little 5’s into 6’s every time I write the year.
As most Americans, I have resolved to do something about the extra weight. I saw you roll your eyes, don’t think I didn’t. But this time, I have a clear cut goal of looking as good as I can at my daughter’s wedding. It’s for me, and me only. The bride will steal the show. I know. I’ve seen the dress on the bride. You’re all in for some eye candy.
May your new year be prosperous, positive, and as sane as possible. May the ups exceed the downs, may all goals be achieved, may the inevitible glitches be without harm and something to laugh about. Our future is a secret. We have input, a few short term clues, some control as it’s happening, and we can plan. But for the most part, it just happens. Sometimes we fasten our seat belts and hunker down.
I want to quote from an actual experience reported by one of the speakers at a Women of Faith conference. Picture two white haired women in their 60’s sitting in a land rover on the edge of a precipice in Aukland, wearing helmets which also block all vision, and listening only to a voice in a headset giving them commands. The only rule is to follow instruction quickly and without question or pause. And the first one is…..
"GUN IT!"
