Whom Do You Trust?

The ILT

     I love my GPS--or as I've called her once before, my ILT (I'm Lost Too). With faith I program her and believe wholeheartedly she will get me where I'm going. But...

1. In Madrid, she told me my hotel resided under a four mile tunnel.
2. In Wilmington, NY she believed my route followed EVERY cemetery in the area, and she took me to Malone via Plattsburgh (50 miles east of my destination)
3. She told me Target lay in the middle of a four lane highway.
4. She thought a side trip through Washington D.C. would be a nice diversion forgetting I've already seen the Washington and Jefferson Monuments and my destination was Charlotte, NC not D.C.
5. She had no idea that South Tryon Street existed. It's a major thoroughfare through Charlotte.

     Still, every time I travel, I turn ILT on and with faith follow her lead. So why don't I do this with my Lord and Savior? Who best can direct my steps? God never leads me astray, never loses satellite connection and knows every twist and turn of my being. If I trust the fickle ILT, I certainly can believe my Creator.

2 Thessalonians 3:5 May the Lord direct your hearts into God's love and Christ's perseverance.

Little Known Bassoon Facts

     My annual Christmas cantata has ended to thunderous applause and requests for us to return in the spring. Before I, personally perform, I want to clarify some little known facts about the most wonderful instrument in the band.
     Did you know?

1.  The bassoon is indeed the prototype of a bazooka. If you wet tissues, roll them into the size of a golf ball and shove it down the bell joint, when the bassoonist hits a high C, it will easily shoot one thousand feet. I have heard that the designers of the game "Angry Birds" use a bassoon at its highest level.

2.  The bassoon also is the forerunner of an IED. Watch a bassoonist roaming around before a concert and see how many innocent attendees she bops with the horn. Few survive.

Bassoon

3.  The bocal is not a hookah.

4.  The bocal is a good substitute for a water balloon. Innocently look ahead as you blow the condensation out of it at the end of the concert. Your neighbor will be saturated.

5. It does not make the same noise as a dying cow or a moose in heat.

6. When someone points at a bassoonist and says, "das faggott," they are NOT insulting her. That's the German name for it and it means those sticks.

7. No ships are ever lost at sea when a bassoon yields its low notes.

8.  The bassoon is not an oboe.

A Sword Shall Pierce Your Heart

“Then Simeon blessed them and said to Mary, his mother: "This child is destined to cause the falling and rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be spoken against, so that the thoughts of many hearts will be revealed. And a sword will pierce your own soul too" (Luke 2:34-35)

  Have you ever wondered at some of the hard Scriptures concerning a time we epitomize as pure joy?

  Picture Mary waiting forty-one days of her purification (Lev. 12:4) before bringing her son to the temple. Here Simeon greets her and tells her wonderful news: a sword would pierce her spirit.

  His words proved true. Mary knew sorrow as she watched the life of her son unfold, culminating in his crucifixion. 

  For Jesus, his birth came at a great cost—not just in his brutal death, but He was equal to God and owned the world. Yet he came as a defenseless child dependent on sinful man for His survival.

  Today we sing happy songs and focus on the joyful season. And it is joyful solely because Jesus came to earth to reconcile us with the Father. For that reunion, the heavens rejoiced.

  But as we go about our lives, also realize this is a season of sorrow for many.

  My son-in-law works in a psych ward in Salem Hospital. Christmas time brings a plethora of patients overwhelmed by the emphasis on family when they have none and giving when they have nothing. They worry about debt to buy the elaborate gifts our culture demands and feel guilty because happiness eludes them even though the world rejoices. 

  On top of this loved ones die, siblings become ill, babies are miscarried, children are abused and addictions abound.

  Don’t be dismayed if you don’t feel the joy the world tells us we must feel. Realize that our faith and faithfulness are not pain free. We will be challenged in all things human, even as Christ our Savior was. Like Mary, great blessings will come, but swords will, too.

  Rest in Him through the hard times, and He will give you peace that passes understanding.

 

 

The Roots of Thanksgiving: Keep Christ in Thanksgiving

Image by aronki via Flickr

     Sarah and David argued. "Lincoln invented Thanksgiving," my grandson said.

     "No he didn't, the Pilgrims did," said Sarah.

     They debated and my grandson ended in tears. "You don't understand what I'm saying."

     This argument continued in the manner that only my dogged grandson could maintain, so Sarah emailed his teacher and asked for the facts. She discovered, Lincoln did "invent" Thanksgiving. In 1863 he made a proclamation declaring the third Thursday of November as a national day of Thanksgiving. However, because of our new interpretations of the First Amendment, David couldn't hear the complete story. (And his mother wasn't entirely wrong).

     Lincoln unified the disparate celebrations into one national holiday to honor "the blessings of fruitful fields and healthful skies." He didn't end there. He said, "(these) are the gracious gifts of the Most High God...(who is) dealing with us in anger for our sins."

     And the school didn't talk about Washington's comments about Thanksgiving. In 1789 George Washington assigned November 26 "to be devoted by the people of these States to the service of that great and glorious Being who is the beneficent author of all the good that was, that is, or that will be."
     The recognition of God's favor in our lives is still politically stated probably because of our hubris--God of course favors US. However, Washington, like Lincoln, went a step further. He said we should ask that, "the great Lord and ruler of Nations... (would) pardon our national and other transgressions."

     Can you imagine our leaders today acknowledging the fact that we've transgressed? I think we need to remember 2 Chron 7:14. "(I)f my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then will I hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and will heal their land."

     And David, your mother wasn't entirely wrong. Our first Thanksgiving was celebrated by the Pilgrims to thank the Creator for His blessings. I think we need to keep, Christ not only in Christmas, but Thanksgiving as well.

(The quotes were taken from Mark Galli. "The Enemy Within." Christianity Today 18 November 2002. (76).

Lose Weight--Eat Dessert

Image by escuelahosteleriabenahavis via Flickr     I set out on my annual pilgrimage with my daughter. Over Veterans day we hunker down in Burlington, Vermont, scrapbook and eat at the Olive Garden. Ah, the Olive Garden--home of the Tour of Italy and breadsticks and Tiramisu. Except the food police hit. Now in Vermont, restaurants carry three--make that four--little digits at the bottom of each selection. Calories!
    
     1450 was the huge digit at the bottom of the Tour. That was one thousand four hundred and fifty calories. As my daily budget is 1290 calories (which I thought was what the poor, starving people in Africa ate per day), this meal, minus breadsticks (150 per stick) and Tiramisu (510) would have me porking on the pounds.
     
     To work off the calories from the Tour alone, I'd have to run MORE than a half-marathon (that's 13.2 miles) or ride my bike for eight hours or walk for ten. That's HOURS! And I still hadn't extras to eat.

     So instead of taking the Tour, I opted for strawberry mousse with white chocolate cream cake--210 calories complete.

     Life should be sweet!

The Border Conundrum: Bootlegging in Malone

     Wending my way to Ellenburg, I run into an old friend, Sgt. Martin (or whatever you call the border guys). He sports Elvis-styled sideburns and a gun. Yikes. You know I stop, not because I'm an Elvis fan. We meet on a regular basis--either on Rt. 11 of 190.
    Fortunately, Sgt. Elvis isn't interested in me or what I'm toting in my suitcase. He's looking for drugs or aliens (of the earthling persuasion),
and he knows this old granny doesn't fit the profile of a drug runner.
     And speaking of profiles, Sgt. Elvis fits that of North Country law enforcement fighting the opportunism of a rural border which allows good to happen--like the runaway slaves and the Underground Railroad--as well as bad.
     But my tale deals with Prohibition which became law on November 18, 1918, and according to Del Forkey in the Sesqui-centennial of Malone: 1802-1952, "...a complete history of this region's part in the 'dry era' would contain some rather stirring, blood-flecked pages, including everything in the rum-toting category from bootlegging and high-jacking to running gun fights through the streets of peaceful villages" (87).
     Ouch. And Sgt. Elvis thinks we have it bad.
      The bootleggers means of hiding booze aren't different from drug hiding today--in the woman's bloomers (which is why they grope us in airports), baby diapers, false doors in their cars. And they loved BIG cars (carried more Mountain Dew aka hootch). Some bootleggers became such good drivers they could spin the car around and then aim for the law officers. Or they'd use decoy cars--autos that would speed off in an opposite direction allowing the one loaded with white lightening to flee.
      I love this stunt the best. A bootlegger would get through the road blocks and then be hijacked by another bootlegger who now didn't have to face the 1920's Sgt. Elvis.
     These booze runners were depraved. One even went so far as to dodge rabbits skittering across the roads, but he'd aim his car at law enforcement officials.
     Forkey claimed most of the villains were outsiders like the infamous Mobster Dutch Shultz and Legs Diamond. I'm not so sure. Many arrested for drug dealing aren't native, but many are. And we must remember:
    

     What has been will be again,
   what has been done will be done again;
   there is nothing new under the sun. Eccl. 1:9

Do We Have Any Volunteers in the Audience?

Picture stolen from Kimberly Connel

     I peeled my eyes opened. Eight a.m. on a Saturday. Forget the fact that my weeks have six Saturdays and one Sunday, my brain had been trained and  Saturday is sleep-in, lazy sacrosanct. However every Saturday we members of North Country Habitat for Humanity banded together to work on the restoration of a house for a needy and deserving family..
      I didn't want to go. Jimminy Crickets, it was Saturday. But James 2:14-17 might as well be engraved on my forehead. "Dear friends, do you think you'll get anywhere in this if you learn all the right words but never do anything? Does merely talking about faith indicate that a person really has it? ... Isn't it obvious that God-talk without God-acts is outrageous nonsense?"(from THE MESSAGE)
     So I rose and within the hour I shined. Once again I discovered joy in giving. I hammered nails, chatted with friends, learned skills, watched our family work for the home they'd soon inhabit and ate a fabulous lunch prepared by Joanna, a dear friend on our local board. I couldn't imagine any greater way to spend a Saturday.
     And I learned some valuable lessons to boot:

1. toenailing has nothing to do with a pedicure
2. a shank isn't something prisoners use nor something you braise in an oven
3. a stud is not a virile man
4. strapping is not used in S & M
5. a dike is not a gay woman nor something that holds back water

     So tell me what you think these mean?