Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Zoom-in Blooms





The camera and I were having a Georgia O'Keeffe sort of day taking close-ups of the flowers in bloom... mostly lilies, because that is what is blooming now in the garden.

Saturday, June 27, 2009

The Wisdom of Bears


I don't see much sense in that," said Rabbit.
"No," said Pooh humbly, "there isn't. But there was going to be when I began it. It's just that something happened to it along the way."
Winnie the Pooh

Eeyore was saying to himself, "This writing business. Pencils and what-not. Over-rated, if you ask me. Silly stuff. Nothing in it."
Winnie the Pooh

Never quit. It is the easiest cop-out in the world. Set a goal and don't quit until you attain it. When you do attain it, set another goal, and don't quit until you reach it. Never quit.
Bear Bryant, football coach

Thursday, June 25, 2009

The Bamboo Scarf

My current knitting project is this "17 foot long" lace-striped scarf. Okay, maybe not 17 feet long -- I have about 5 feet knit so far. The stripes are meant to look like joints in a (floppy) stem of bamboo. So, since it uses bamboo thread, it is a bamboo scarf in two ways. Which is rather fun and the reason I decided to do this project.

Plus the instructions are easy to follow. It goes like this: Using size 2 needles and size 10 BAMBOO crochet thread sit in front of the TV and do stocking knit for an hour. When the credits start to roll, do one of the yarn-over lace rows. [Then there are several yarn-over lace rows which can be done in order or randomly as the knitter chooses.] When you are finished, stop. You know how long you need a scarf to be.

I haven't stopped yet. :D

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Climbing Joseph's Coat

Now Israel loved Joseph more than all his children, because he was the son of his old age: and he made him a coat of many colours.
-Genesis 37:3
Whatever translations may now say, whether Joseph's coat was long, or had sleeves, or was striped, we have the King James Version to thank for the translation rendering it a coat of many colors. It's alliterative, a phrase that flows off the tongue and triggers the imagination. Dolly Parton wrote a song; Webber and Rice produced a musical; and in 1964 Armstrong and Swim registered the hybridized climbing florabunda rose known as Joseph's Coat. The multi-colored rose begins as a tight pink bud, opens to gold petals rimmed with orange, and changes as it opens to a full-blown deep red.

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

"Love On"

Should I cause my Christian brother to stumble? Should we pick up phrases that have worldly double meanings and emphasize these phrases as part of our Christian vocabulary? Should we guard our speech?

I ask because the Christian colloquialism “love on” is driving me nuts. Maybe because it's poor grammar. We do not need to "Love on 'em" we can simply "Love them" or "Show them our love." Even Shakespeare, a man willing to arbitrarily invent words, never had the gall to conjugate a phrase like "they loved on us."

It is the current trendy catch phrase and I hear about people getting “loved on” everywhere. A few months ago everyone was saying "I covet your prayers" as though the Ten Commandments never mentioned thou shalt Not covet. A simple "I desire your prayers" doesn't imply that you are jealous of my prayers and have no prayers yourself. Which brings me back around to my current pet peeve. The nuvo-trendy "love on" and the implications of what we are saying.

I think the reason I am so annoyed when someone says "...and they loved on me" is because because I am aware of the culture we live in and I know what that sounds like to... well, to quite a few people and not just the non-Christians. It sounds dirty. I was tempted to sugar-coat this issue or ignore it all together, but I decided to call it like I see it. The young men in the back pews are snickering, any late night television viewer can explain it, and more than one prudish grammarian is cringing in her seat. There’s a double meaning there.

Do we even stop to think about the words we are using? Why do we flap phrases about without a care? Someone somewhere is thinking: Oh no, that's not right, no one thinks that it means.... Everyone else says it, we all know... But that's not what I meant...
  • People do think of that meaning.
  • If everyone else suggested jumping off the cliff would you still say it?
  • And of course that's not what you meant. So why did you say it?
I'm not suggesting that your meaning is unclear. Christian love and support, familial affection -- this is clearly what is meant when someone stands up in church and says "so-and-so loved on me" or "we're all gonna love on 'em." I'm just saying there are some extra meanings tagging along. Since there are other ways to say it, ways that are good grammar and don't make the boys in the back row snicker at the double meaning... Why, Why, WHY must people keep on with "love on?"

Why should I cause my Christian brother to stumble? I shouldn't.

Sunday, June 21, 2009

From James 3

We all stumble in many ways.
If anyone is never at fault in what he says,
he is a perfect man, able to keep his whole body in check.
The tongue is a small part of the body, but it makes great boasts.

Consider what a great forest is set on fire by a small spark.
The tongue also is a fire,
a world of evil among the parts of the body.
It corrupts the whole person,
sets the whole course of his life on fire,
and is itself set on fire by hell.
With the tongue we praise our Lord and Father,

and with it we curse men, who have been made in God's likeness.
Out of the same mouth come praise and cursing. My brothers, this should not be.
Can both fresh water and salt water flow from the same spring?
James 3: 2,5-6,9-11

Saturday, June 20, 2009

The Knitted Poem

The Poetry Society (UK) is putting together the world's largest knitted poem; all knitters are
invited to participate. The fact that they are calling it the world's largest, presupposes the existence of a smaller knitted poem somewhere on the globe.

This fascinates me. Have people for centuries been stringing together words out of yarn? Has this been the case all along and I just have not known? To think I have been using ink, paper, notepads, when all along I might have been crafting my poetry through sharp needles and soft alpaca.

And yet, I think I will not participate in this largest project. I would rather twine my poems into small woolly scarves, the kind that are cozy. I like the idea of knitting hidden messages into the heels of socks, and purling my words onto individual pages roughly eight and a half by eleven.

In counterpoint to this fascinating Poetry Society project I am inspired to suggest the world's smallest knitted poems...perhaps with silk thread and toothpick knitting needles... something about as large as a 1940's ladies handkerchief -- delicate, sentimental, and exactly the size to be carried over the heart. What do you think?

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Missions-Trip Barbie

Overheard: "We couldn't afford a family vacation this year so we thought it would be nice to send [Teen Child] on a missions trip to [Caribbean Country]."

A missions trip, one might add, paid for by church funds and fundraisers. A trip on which Teen Child's boyfriend, best friend, and miscellaneous other friends are also being sent... and for which Teen Child is currently out shopping for bikini's to take with her on said missions trip.

I have a problem with this. First off, any trip that requires bikini swimsuits is NOT a missions trip, and in my opinion should not be sponsored by a church. Somehow wandering about in public in a lust provoking outfit half the size of one's underwear strikes me as being the opposite of a fitting witness for Christ. But issues of modesty aside -- did that mom really just say the missions trip was in place of a vacation?

I would like to know when the work of the church became sending spoiled teens on free vacations.

Many churches have honest, evangelistic missions trips undertaken to serve others and shine the light of Christ into some one's heart. I have no problem with that and I applaud the work done on those trips and the lives changed, the sinners saved as a result of those efforts. But this is not the first time I have encountered this attitude of entitlement, and this is not the first missions trip I've heard of dedicated to sending a social clique to a sunny beach on the church's dime, and this is probably not the last time self-serving self-righteous parents smugly congratulate their children on pretending to do the work of the Lord.

Reality check people. What are we bearing witness to through these missionaries? Our need to keep the kids entertained and out from underfoot? Our selfish opinions that, having done nothing to merit it and not being able to afford it, we all still "deserve" vacations? Or are we sending out missionaries who have a mature faith ready to witness the truth of the Gospel to those who hunger for more than bread, able and equipped and eager to share the message of Jesus?

I'm just saying, if your church is sending Teen Child on a missions trip this summer and she's out shopping -- please tell me it's for a travel-sized Bible not a dental-floss bikini.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Spirit Horses

They were gone now. By the time we noticed, only the trammelled lawn bore testimony to the antics of the roaming horses. As we traced the circuitous path of invisible horses, I resisted the urge to joke that we had been visited in the night by one of the four horsemen of the apocalypse, probably the one that pours out the diseases... like swine flu.

The neighbors over the hill confirmed, they had seen two skittish yearlings wandering past them later in the morning. You would be surprised at how often things like that happens in my neighborhood. (A quick course on hiring teens who close gates, coupled with a gate-closing training program for teens might fix this but that is beside the point.) These ordinary horses were mere flesh, not spirit horses.

The prophet Isaiah begins chapter 31 crying: "Woe to those who go down to Egypt for help, who rely on horses..." explaining, in verse 3 that the Egyptians are men and not God; their horses are flesh and not spirit.

It's human nature to want to rely on others for help, for advice, and guidance, for protection and wisdom. But why do we trace the circuitous paths, following in the hoof prints of ordinary horses? We have God to rely on, we have the Holy Spirit.

As Christians we sometimes get caught up in following the wisdom of mentors, the guidance of teachers, the powerful directives of influential preachers -- but they are just people. They are flesh and not Spirit, men and not God.

Do we pray, and search the Scriptures, when given advice? Or do we simply trust our friend and say 'that sounds good' relying on our human instincts? Because I'll tell you, hoof prints were not the only signs those loose horses left in our yard. They left us quite a few dollops of fertilizer as well. And human wisdom, even from the most well-meaning, most spiritual person, amounts to a big dollop of horse leavings if that's not what God wanted us to do.

Paul reminds us and the Galatians: "Are you so foolish? After beginning with the Spirit, are you now trying to attain your goal by human effort?" (Galatians 3:3)

We have to decide: Are we God-followers wholly trusting the Spirit, or are we followers of human wisdom and run-away horses?

Monday, June 15, 2009

Intrigued by Trust

"She had never been able to tolerate dishonesty, which she thought threatened the very heart of relationships between people. If you could not count on other people to mean what they said, or to do what they said they would do, then life could become utterly unpredictable. The fact that we could trust one another made it possible to undertake the simple tasks of life. Everything was based on trust, even day-to-day things like crossing the road — which required trust that the drivers of cars would be paying attention — to buying food from a roadside vendor, whom you trusted not to poison you. It was a lesson that we learned as children, when our parents threw us up into the sky and thrilled us by letting us drop into their waiting arms. We trusted those arms to be there, and they were."
-- From "The Full Cupboard of Life" by Alexander McCall Smith, pg 62


I found this great quote and now I am going to have to find out more about this book (a.k.a. buy it). It seems to be part of a detective series.... Has anyone read The Full Cupboard of Life by Alexander McCall Smith?

Friday, June 12, 2009

A Mile in These Shoes?

Have I ever told you about the time I really felt like God wanted me to wear high heels to church? I was headed to the evening service and walking out the door wearing a nice pair of loafers. There was nothing wrong with those shoes they matched my outfit. They were very comfortable. They were sensible, if my car broke down I would have to walk (this was before cell phones) and I never have relished the idea of walking a mile in heels. I liked those loafers and had worn them to church many times before -- but that day every time I looked at my feet I felt unsettled in my spirit. I tried to ignore it.

Sitting in the car ready to go I saw my foot on the gas pedal.


I went back in the house and changed my shoes.

And I prayed, sort of. "Lord," I said. "You'd better have a good reason for wanting me to wear these stupid shoes. And you'd better not let the car break down, because if I have to walk a mile in these heels, you'll be hearing from me at every step -- and it won't be praise Lord."

Why did God want me to wear high heels to church?

You're waiting for me to explain that those shoes started a conversation with a stranger and opened the door to share the message of Christ with a seeker, that has happened before but not this time. Did those shoes make me the right height to look someone in the eye and challenge a false theology? I've had that happen too, but that's not the story I'm telling. This time, those shoes, didn't even make me tall enough to reach down a toy from the nursery shelf so a child would stop crying.

So now you're waiting for me to say the car broke down, or I ran out of gas, or something happened and I had to walk a mile in those heels. But it didn't.

So what happened? Nothing happened.

Nothing happened other than that I obeyed what I felt God wanted me to do. Without knowing the reason, and knowing only that it did not violate any principle of Scripture to do so, I wore high heels to church simply because God asked me to.

Nothing happened other than that God showed me that He WILL take care of me when I obey Him. My car did not break down. It might have, but it didn't.

Nothing happened other than that my prayer, irreverent as it might have been, was answered and I did not have to walk in those shoes. He had a good reason; He was teaching me to trust Him.

Thursday, June 11, 2009

What-in-the-Box Dilemma

On the Island of Misfit Toys there lived a Ralph-in-a-Box, or maybe it was a Peter-in-a-Box... I can't quite recall, but I know it wasn't a Jack-in-a-Box. I am reminded of that classic Rudolf film today as I think about what belongs in boxes.

Halfway between knowing where we are moving and actually moving there is the stage we find ourselves in now. Can we put this in a box already or do we need it still unpacked? Will this or that item ever be put in a box or is it something that must eventually be left behind on the island of misfit furnishings? How can we pack what we really need to move with us when we still really need to have it available to use up until the last minute?

Pack some things away and they pop out again, just like a Jack-in-a-Box.

Eventually the boxes will all get packed, and moved, and even unpacked again. But until then there is
this transition period,
this what-in-the-box time
that feels unwanted
like a misfit toy looking for a home.

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

How Long Do We Have Left?

The American Republic will endure until the day Congress discovers that it can bribe the public with the public's money.
-- Alexis de Tocqueville

Monday, June 8, 2009

Robin

Like any teen going through an awkward stage this young freckled robin found itself frozen to the bough above our heads as I used my cell phone to snap two quick photos. Unsure of what to do, it's parents not in sight, it sat immobilized as my camera/phone reached towards it. Then suddenly aware of the potential danger some instinct kicked in. And, as it flew away, it pooped on my outstretched arm.

Saturday, June 6, 2009

Siberian Iris

For some reason, known only to the propagator of the original plant, this variety of Siberian iris is called "Caesar's Brother." I resist the urge to hunt for an iris named "Et Tu" or "Brutus." There isn't really room for more iris in the garden anyway, but don't you think there must be one named "Julius" out there somewhere?

Friday, June 5, 2009

Wild Horses Couldn't Drag Me Away

You've heard that expression I'm sure, about wild horses. But have you thought about Egyptian horses? Could Egyptian horses drag us away?

Back in the ancient days before the Israelites had even entered the Promised Land, the Lord knew that one day they would want to have a king. In Deuteronomy 17 mention is made of how the King should behave. Verse 16 : The king, moreover, must not acquire great numbers of horses for himself or make the people return to Egypt to get more of them, for the LORD has told you, "You are not to go back that way again." He started warning them early.

And yet even King Solomon, for all his wisdom, bought horses from Egypt (this is recorded in 1 Kings 10:28-29, 2 Chronicles 1:16 and 9:28) They're nice horses, good chariots, excellent in battle. Worldly wisdom says there is nothing wrong in buying horses from Egypt. So Solomon bought Egyptian horses.

But God said not to.

You see, Solomon's horses from Egypt led to Solomon's wife from Egypt, the Pharaoh's daughter, and through her (and other foreign wives) Solomon was led away from the Lord. He went "back that way" that God said the Israelites were not to go.

He let himself get dragged away.
And it started with the horses from Egypt.

Egyptian horses were Solomon's "gateway drug" if you will, opening the door to disobeying God in other areas of his life. Today we are no different than Solomon. I'll give you some examples:

God said to dress modestly and with respect. But every Sunday the churches boast barely clad women dressing in the latest fashions from Paris Hilton and Susie Slut... 'Nothing wrong with being fashionable,' says the world. 'Every one else is wearing horses from Egypt. It doesn't mean anything.'

Scripture tells us that as believers we have the power to cast out demons, and that we should rebuke evil. It does not say that we are to spend hours in line at the Walmart to buy the movie Twilight or Harry Potter, inviting evil under our own roof, and then wonder why our children misbehave. They're just riding the Egyptian horses we bought them.

Do I need to mention the number of "good Christian women" reading secular romance novels and watching soaps? Or the number of "Godly men" playing violent video games or surfing the internet while claiming to be working hard for their employer?

Figuratively speaking, we are buying horses from Egypt.

No, the girl dressed like Paris Hilton sitting in the pew next to me does not behave like Paris Hilton. Not yet anyway. And, okay, the children watching Twilight are not turning into demon possessed vampires* but, as the Proverbs tell us "Train up a child in the way they should go and when they are old they will not depart from it." It's just the first step in the wrong direction, away from God.

Let's not delude ourselves -- when we buy into the ways of the world... when we say 'but they're good horses. There's nothing wrong with this book, this outfit, this game, this movie...' We are making the same mistake Solomon did. We are setting ourselves up to get dragged away from God by wild horses.

As believers we have been saved out of the world, and we "are not to go back that way again."
It's time to muck out the stables.



[*...and there is no such thing as a "good" vampire, so don't even start with me.]

Thursday, June 4, 2009

Editing

these illusions wrap themselves like Adam
tight against her ribcage
her bone, her breath, her dust to dust self
fig leaves and flesh...

These are leftover lines from a poem I am working on today. They are good lines... well, not-bad lines at least. I like them, but they don't belong in the poem so I chopped them out. To keep the focus of the poem they had to be sacrificed. Not because they were horrible, but because they are not a part of what I want the finished poem to say or be.

I think sometimes life is a little bit like that.

I imagine we are like poems, some of us are traditional rhyme, some amuse in metered syllables, some touch the emotions and spirit evoking mood in word choice and free verse. As we go through life we come to moments when we are revised and edited. Sometimes God asks us to remove a line or two from our lives. Not necessarily because these things are sins, just because those few phrases don't fit with what He wants us to be.

He is the Author of the Universe. He knows how to write good poetry, and how to shape good lives. When God asks us to edit something out of our lives, no matter how much we like those things we will be stronger poems without them.

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

Two Quotes on Clouds

“God writes the Gospel not in the Bible alone, but also on trees, and in the flowers and clouds and stars.”
--Martian Luther

“The President cannot make clouds to rain and cannot make the corn to grow, he cannot make business good; although when these things occur, political parties do claim some credit for the good things that have happened in this way.”
-- William Howard Taft


Tuesday, June 2, 2009

In Bloom

Lady's Mantle and Lavender, Campanula and Columbine (photo), all lovely to observe in flower. But, Oh how the Roses are blooming now and how they do perfume the air. The scent hangs heavy, luxurious and opulent in the way that only old-fashioned home-grown roses and wild rambling roses ever achieve. The sort of fragrance that holds you grounded to the earth and makes you feel lightheaded, or at least light hearted, all at the same time.

Monday, June 1, 2009

Pump Reflux Disease

Shwonk. Click.
Shwonk. Click.
Shwonk. Click. Shwonk. Click. Click. Click.
The man on the other side of the gas pump continued rounding up to the nearest dollar. I could feel the reverberations in the hose on my side as I filled my own gas tank. Finally satisfied the older gentleman closed his gas cap, took his printed credit card receipt from pump, climbed into his truck and drove off. My disbelief increased.

He did not need exact change.
He paid with plastic.
He did not need a number easy to remember.
He got a receipt.

At $2.45 and 9/10ths for a gallon for gas I don't understand rounding up. In the days when the service man would still pump your gas for you I remember rounding up. We paid cash then. It was easier not to hand coins through the window. It made sense to round up -- then. But times have changed. Now you can play pump-price games like these: I just paid $18.63 for less than half a tank of gas. What happened in the year 1863? (The Battle of Gettysburg was that year in the American War Between the States.) Or I just filled up for $42.34. Which Star Trek Generation would that be? (I don't actually know the answer to that one, although I know people who could figure it out.) But I digress.

The biggest reason for my astonishment at the man's persistence in rounding up is a little something I once heard about pump reflux. A little bit of internet research seems to confirm it so I'm going to pass it along:

When the vehicle tank nears full the pump uses several hidden components to shut itself off. One of these is a small hole near the end of the nozzle. Air flows from the hole through a thin tube within the hose back into the pump. As long as it can get air every thing's going to flow just fine. Gas goes into your tank, air flows out back to the underground storage tank.

As your tank fills the level of gas rises until it reaches the nozzle. As soon as the tiny hole in the end of the nozzle is blocked by gasoline the pressure in the tube drops shutting off the pump. If you keep clicking the pump you feed gasoline -- not air -- into that tiny hole/tube system (in other words, back into the gas pump). It's called reflux, like heartburn.

Putting it in less technical terms: Each time that guy clicked to round up, he basically pumped some of that gas back into the stations storage tanks, not into his truck. And seriously, isn't the price of gas high enough already?

The next time you're out pumping gas and it shuts off, take your receipt, climb back into your car, look at that odd number and try to figure out if the Mayan calender has that many years in it. Save yourself the shwonking, the clicking, and the extra 27 cents. You didn't really want to spend that much at the pump anyway, did you?