Here in the foothills of the Ozarks there are
certain signs for each of the seasons. Right
now we are in the middle of Spring.

Early Spring is easy to tell. There are the
Forsythia, the Daffodils, the Redbuds and the
Dogwood to be delighted in. Mayapples pop up
all along the roadsides and a tinge of green
appears everywhere. This is all only a memory
now for the present year.

What we are experiencing now is Mid-Spring. It
is just as evident as Early Spring. The nights
are dotted with fireflies. They dance about to
some hidden music that only they can hear. The
turtles are on the move. They cross the roads
in hordes and we measure our trips to town and
church by how many times we have to swerve to
keep from crushing a turtle. There are three-
turtle trips, five turtle-trips, etc.

A new music fills the air at night. The peepers
have given way to the cricket and the bullfrog. One
of my greatest gifts from God is a husband who likes
to leave the window at the head of our bed open as
much as I do. The window comes down to the top of
the bed itself. We don't have a headboard, so any
time at all I can just lift my head and look out
and see the moon or the stars or the fireflies or
the lightning going about their appointed businesses.

The hummingbirds are back in droves. Many minutes
at a time can be spent watching their attacks on one
another. What bravado!

And the ticks are here. I can't figure out why I have
so many on me these days. I've not had time to meander
through the woods in the gloaming. I've not even been
working in my yard any. But daily these little guys
are having a heyday crawling around on me and finding
likely looking spots to stick their little head into.

Just yesterday I was with G'ma Opal and while we
were chatting she turned her head a little. I
thought, "She's got a mole on her neck I've never
noticed before." But when I peered closer it was
a tick just in the process of digging in. I picked
him off and happily flushed his little body into
the sea.

Good days. Good gifts from God's hands.

A few days ago I sent Hattie to her room to clean it.
After a few minutes a rush of wind passed me and swooshed
out the door. As it blew by I thought I caught a few
faint words. "I'll be back," it promised.

I admit I was distracted; I did nothing at the moment, but
some good while later (over an hour) I looked and the room
was still not clean. I found the daughter outside with
wood and tools. "What are you doing? Your room is not
clean."

"I know. I'm making something. I'll clean it."

Finally she finished the project and the room. And this
is her new addition to her decorating/keeping it all clean
scheme. Just what every girl needs. A hair-thingy holder.

This is beautiful.

Babies are sweet, huggable and cuddly. They are
delightful and lovely. They are fresh and fun.
But babies are also selfish. They are born this
way. It is natural for them. It is a direct result
of Genesis 3.

All that fills the mind of a newborn is his own needs.
He wants his little tummy to be full. He wants to
have a clean, dry bottom. He feels secure when he
is cuddled and carried about.

A huge part of parenting is to slowly train that little
one to consider others. Step by step they must be
taught to give up their own felt needs and rights.

This is hard. It is especially difficult in light of
the society our children are engulfed in. This is not
the first nor the most eloquent article to address
this issue, but I see so much time, energy and money
being poured into the young lives around me that I
worry for them and want to address the issue.

The basic problem is that our children are treated as
though they are royalty for the first 18 or 20 years
of life and then they are expected to step out on their
own and by that time are totally unequipped to do so.

They can't understand why they are not the total focus
of Mom and Dad's attention, finances and energy anymore.
Why should they understand this? They've been told for
all those previous years that they are the very center
of life. All revolves around them. Parent's recreation,
work and even church life revolves around the children
and what they want or are doing.

So what are the answers? I am no expert, but I do have
some meager wisdom to offer here.

1. Expect your children to work from an early age and to
contribute to the comfort and enjoyment of family life.
The family resources are not to be all funneled into them,
but they are instead part of an entire tapestry where all
are needed to make things work.

2. Give them less than they want for their birthdays and
Christmas. Give them less than their friends get.
Definitely give them less than you want to give them. Set a
limit and stick to it. Our basic limit has been $50 for
a birthday and $100 for Christmas for each child. When
they were younger it was less than that. They see what
their friends receive. What child wouldn't want more?
Yet they have come to understand that they don't need
everything they want, or everything others have in order
to live a full life.

Both delayed and denied gratification are some of the
greatest gifts we can give our children.

3. Avoid situations and ceremonies that put full focus on
that child. I am not saying to never focus on them. We
have plenty of natural times for that. When they have a
birthday, they get to chose their meal and get their
gifts. When a special goal has been reached, they should
be honored. We gave trophies to our boys for the first
time they publicly prayed out loud in a church service.
We have little celebrations often. Next week, when Joel
finally gets to move to day shift we are having a little
family party.

But, way too much time, energy and money are spent in
letting our children believe they are the kings and queens
of this life.

I have devoted the past 25 years to my family and their
welfare. During those years the children have been fed,
bathed, played with, read to, taught,...but, they have
also been made to see that they are a part of a whole,
not THE whole.

4. Avoid saying, "We can't afford that." That lets the
child think that they do deserve whatever it is they
want, but that poor Mom and Dad just can't do what is
necessary to get it for them. Instead use phrases such
as this, "We do not think is is wise to get that," or,
"We feel such and such is more important and so we are
not going to try and get this for you."

5. Always be sure your children tithe their meager first
earnings to the Lord. Whether it is 10 cents from the
dollar they earn pulling weeds for Grandpa or $10 from
their first check of $100 flipping hamburgers for Mac D's.
Allow them to develop the joy of realizing that all they
have is from God's hand. This life is but a preparation
for Heaven, and to invest in Heaven now is something we
need to teach them as strongly as we teach them to invest
in an IRA for retirement.

6. Don't always take their side when they are complaining
about unfair coaches, teachers, friends, or others they
come in contact with. They are not always going to get
first billing in their activities. Not everyone is going
to like them. They may be overlooked and under appreciated.
"It's not fair," you'll often hear. Still, they need to
respect authority, and, if they have put themselves in
situation where they are under a coach, boss or another
authority figure, they need to show the respect to that
person that God expects them to. There are always proper
channels for changing their situation. We listen to the
venting and then usually say something like this, "I can
see how you feel, but basically just expect people to
be that way. Your responsibility is to do what is right."

7. Remember to model a life of contentment.

I Timothy 6-8
Now godliness with contentment is great gain.
For we brought nothing into this world, and it
is certain we can carry nothing out. And having
food and clothing, with these we shall be content.

To go along with yesterday's post here are the views
from Up and Down the Gravel. These are the views from
the end of our driveway, but they are not the prettiest
part of the road.

This first view is up the gravel. It only makes sense
that the north view would be the Up one. Though,
political correctness, Mayberry style, says that nobody
lives Up the Gravel; this has all been discussed in
past posts. Everyone lives Down the Gravel. However, if
you, technically, go Up (Down but North) on the gravel,
though you can't see them here, you will get to G'ma Opal's,
Uncle Jim's and Aunt Jenny's houses.
















This second view is both technically and politically correct.
This is the view, from the end of my driveway, of Down the
Gravel (that would be South). If you meander down the road
this direction you will (if you turn off on a side lane)
arrive at Joel's house and Grand-Aunt Lucille's and first
cousin once removed John's and Mary's homes. If you don't
follow that lovely little lane but rather continue on the
main gravel you will come to my parent's home which actually
fronts the blacktop. And, lucky for them, they don't have
to worry at all whether anyone lives Up or Down the Blacktop.
I suppose people just live On the Blacktop.















This last view is of our driveway leading down to the Gravel.
No commentary necessary; I just thought you might enjoy the
view.

Up and Down the Gravel

Last night Hattie and I went to visit G'ma Opal.
Hat wanted to take the 4-wheeler. I, conveniently,
have never really learned to drive it, so my 9-yr
old daughter aired the tires and revved it up and
we were off. When we drove home it was dark and
neither of us know how to turn on the lights...but,
no matter, there was a full moon and driving was
not a problem. Plus, since there were no lights,
we both saw our first firefly of the season. And
when we turned off the engine, there was a Whip-
or-will calling. That was the first Whip-or-will
I've heard yet this spring. I can almost live off
of a Whip-or-wills call. They are sustaining.

G'ma's arm is still bothering her, but she was just
cleaning up the kitchen from her dinner. Sunday she
went fishing and caught a few fish, so last night
she fried them; they looked yummy. She had just come
in from the garden and had put lettuce and onions
in her fridge.

Of course she imparted some of her great wisdom to us
as we played a game of Rummy.

1. Since tomorrow (now today) was May 1st, we needed to
get up before dawn and wash our faces in the early dew.
If we do that for nine days in a row, we will keep from
getting freckles.

2. We'd had Chicken and Dumplings for dinner and I was
complaining a little about all the mess I make when I
make them. G'ma told me to hold back on the flour a bit
and make them into drop dumplings next time.

3. She repeated one of her little ditties that I've heard
her say a thousand times, but this time I wrote it down
to save it. It is for choosing whose turn it is for a
game.

William Tremmeltoes
He's a good fisherman
Catches hens
And puts them in pens
Some lay eggs
Some none
He catches fishes
And puts them in dishes
Wire briar limberlock
Three geese in a flock
One flew east
One flew west
One flew over the Cuckoo's nest
Clock fell down
Mouse run around
And O-U-T spells out
Old dirty dishrag
You go out!

We also have new neighbors. The property to our north
sold and, though I haven't met them, there is already
a connection with them. The girl (I must call her a
girl, she will be getting married in June after graduating
high school) is my cousin's cousin. Only in Mayberry.

That reminds me of the time we were having dinner at
the home of some friends. During the discussion we
discovered that the husband was a step-brother to my
cousins's cousin. The wife jumped up and hugged me
and said, that makes us related! Truly Mayberrian! And
quite fun!











One last G'ma Opal note. During the month of April she
only killed 2 mice. I guess they are moving back outdoors
with the nicer weather.

From Machen.

"Emancipation from the blessed will of God
always involves bondage to some worse taskmaster."

Various and Sundry and Rambling Mayberry Musings

1. I was stupid; I was. To think I could play three
softball games at the tournament Saturday and
then go on to continue normal living afterward.
That up and down catcher stuff is a killer on
the thighs muscles.

2. I am grateful; I am. The $1500 plus we raised for
the concrete project we will be working on in Mexico
this summer was worth the sore thighs, almost.

3. Life is delicious; it is. Lying in bed with the open
window at our head which allows the sweet and cool night
air to waft in and listening to the night noises noising
is a gift of surpassing value.

4. Life is double delicious;it is, it is. Rising in the
morning to curl into my little secret spot and listen
to the waking birds while the cool air flows through
the window and God speaks to me from His Word is a
richness undeserved.

5. I lied; I did. I haven't given any Mayberry Musings
in this post. There are some, but they don't fit the
mood somehow, so let's just see how well they keep in
the old grey matter for a later post.

Vespers

Little Boy kneels at the foot of the bed,
Droops on the little hands little gold head.
Hush! Hush! Whisper who dares!
Christopher Robin is saying his prayers.

God bless Mummy. I know that's right.
Wasn't it fun in the bath to-night?
The cold's so cold, and the hot's so hot.
Oh! God bless Daddy - I quite forgot.

If I open my fingers a little bit more,
I can see Nanny's dressing-gown on the door.
It's a beautiful blue, but it hasn't a hood.
Oh! God bless Nanny and make her good.

Mine has a hood, and I lie in bed,
And pull the hood right over my head,
And I shut my eyes, and I curl up small,
And nobody knows that I'm there at all.

Oh! Thank you, God, for a lovely day.
And what was the other I had to say?
I said "Bless Daddy," so what can it be?
Oh! Now I remember it. God bless Me.

Little Boy kneels at the foot of the bed,
Droops on the little hands little gold head.
Hush! Hush! Whisper who dares!
Christopher Robin is saying his prayers.

I have enjoyed all the blog-posted poetry this
month. When the children were younger I enjoyed
making up little ditties to sing in the car or
as we worked and played. One of them has stuck
with us and Hattie will still say it at times.

Bathtime Poem

My little hands get wrinkled,
Whenever I take a bath.
My little feet get wrinkled too;
It makes me want to laugh.

My name is (say child's full name),
And I am asking you-
Do your hands and feet
Ever get wrinkled too?

The last two morning devotions have left me with
a lot to chew on. Just in case you are needing
a cud or two I offer the following...

From Christianity & Liberalism by J. Gresham Machen:
(Machen is speaking of the plethora of dieties that
were being honored in the Hellenistic society that
Paul was confronting)

"Without its exclusiveness, the Christian message
would have seemed perfectly inoffensive to the
men of that day. So modern liberalism, placing
Jesus alongside other benefactors of mankind, is
perfectly inoffensive in the modern world. All
men speak well of it. It is entirely inoffensive.
But it is also entirely futile. The offense of
the cross is done away, but so is the glory
and the power."

From The Valley of Vision: A Collection of Puritan
Prayers & Devotions...

"Grant that I may be salted with suffering,
with every exactment tempered to my soul,
every rod excellently fitted to my back,
to chastise, humble, break me."

And finally from Proverbs chapter 11, various verses...

"A talebearer reveals secrets,
But he who is of a faithful spirit conceals a matter...

A gracious woman retains honor,...

As a ring of gold in a swine's snout,
So is a lovely woman who lacks discretion."

There is balm in Gilead.
The frost that did this to my trees...



















Spared me my Peonies.

Our whirlwind trip to Jacksonville, Florida is come
and gone. It was a lovely trip. Carolyn and Daryl
were duly married and are now in Argentina on their
honeymoon. Hattie was flower girl and here are a
few pictures of the wedding. My camera was on the
bum and only worked from time to time so the shots
are limited.





























Les Miserables is both one of my favorite movies and
one of my favorite books. In the movie Jean Valjean
says to Cosette, as he is about to be taken away by
the French police and she is crying in despair, (I
paraphrase only because I cannot promise I have it
totally word for word), "It is right. I stole something;
I did. I stole happiness with you."

We stole some time on the beach. It was lovely. Windy
and cool, but lovely.

It is fun to be miserable. We all work rather
hard at it. If you aren't doing such a good
job lately, here is a post that will help.

Tip of the bonnet to Suitable For Mixed Company.


Okay, now I promise, I'm outta here.

We're off to a family wedding. If I can find
a stray computer or two I'll try to post, but
if not I'll leave you to contemplate the
following.

Tuesday night both Kent and I were out and
about fulfilling our civic duty. I was at a
meeting for the SB40 board, a/k/a Productive
Living Board, which is one of the boards for
the local Sheltered Workshop. My older sister
works at the Sheltered Workshop and it is
a very natural place for me (and both my
parents) to volunteer.

But, Kent, now he went beyond the call of natural
duty. He was asked to be a rider in a donkey
basketball game that was a fund raiser for the
high school jazz band. How could he say, "NO"?
He was on a team with other community members...
pastors, the local judge, elected officials.

I missed the event, but here are some pictures
I thought you would enjoy.

April is Poetry Month, and, while I haven't done
anything so ambitious as post a poem a day or
even a poem a week, here is my offering in the
wee hours of a beautiful spring morning.

Spring Morning
A A Milne

Where am I going? I don't quite know.
Down to the stream where the king-cups grow -
Up on the hill where the pine trees blow -
Anywhere, anywhere. I don't know.

Where am I going? The clouds sail by,
Little ones, baby ones, over the sky.
Where am I going? The shadows pass,
Little ones, baby ones, over the grass.

If you were a cloud, and sailed up there,
You'd sail on water as blue as air,
And you'd see me here in the fields and say:
"Doesn't the sky look green today?"

"Where am I going?" the high rooks call:
"It's awful fun to be born at all."
"Where am I going?" the ring-doves coo:
"We do have beautiful things to do."

If you were a bird, and lived on high,
You'd lean on the wind when the wind came by,
You'd say to the wind when it took you away:
"That's where I wanted to go today!"

Where am I going? I don't quite know.
What does it matter where people go?
Down to the wood where the blue-bells grow -
Anywhere, anywhere. I don't know.


The A.A. Milne books I own have been mine since
I was a child. The one I got the above poem
from, When We Were Very Young,is a 1961 edition.

Milne and Pooh Bear have always been held close
in the corner of my heart that I reserve for dear
friends. I never can read the last chapter of The
House at Pooh Corner without crying. I always
hand it off to one of the kids to finish.

And now I'll end this with one funny story about
the effect the Pooh stories have had on our family.
When Tyler was little, 6 or so, he and I were talking
about the trip he would get to take with his Dad when
he was 10. We had just finished reading the Winnie
the Pooh books and Tyler said, "Well, when we go on
our trip, it's gonna take us a long time to get to the
North Pole!"

Blest with Sons has this post on men being
sheepdogs.

In light of the happenings in Virginia this week,
may God bless us with many sheepdogs.

This is not the post I was working on, but some late-
breaking news just occurred on the farm.

It is Turkey season and Ty has been out in the Turkey
woods. This morning as I was working on another
post there came a long banging on the door. When we ran
to open it, here is what we found.

Yesterday we stole an hour from our Sunday afternoon
and sauntered down the gravel to visit G'ma Opal.
She's not feeling very well; her right shoulder is
in a lot of pain right now, and she looked tiny
and fragile sitting in her chair, but we had a lovely
conversation.

My aunt Jenny was there also and they were reconstructing
Doniphan for us as it looked 50-80 years ago when, in
G'ma's words, it was more countrified. She began with
a story of a carnival where there was a man who could
stretch out his neck till it looked like it was over
a foot long. Then she told of a carnival in a neighboring
town that had a merry-go-round that was turned by having
a mule pull it around. The rides cost a dime and my
grandfather took her there (before they were married)
and they rode until he had spent the entire dollar he
had brought with him.

There was a store that her dad would go to buy groceries
and you could get all the crackers and cheese you wanted
to eat, on the spot, for a nickel. "Just feature that,"
she said. What a lovely old fashioned turning of a phrase.

It was a lovely, restful hour that we spent there. Such
times and conversations keep us anchored to our little
corner of the world and allow us to keep sane amidst all
the crazy scheduling we try to keep to.

I have been remiss in my postings about J. Gresham
Machen's book Christianity & Liberalism. There is
so much meat in it that I hardly know where to
begin.

Machen is, of course, delineating the places where
Christianity and Liberalism differ. His book is
both a text book (he makes his points clearly and
in order) and a devotional (he leads the reader to
consider the scriptures and the Savior on every
page).

The foundation of the book is that, "Christian
doctrine lies at the very roots of faith."(p.44)
The other foundational truth he expresses is "...
we do not mean that if doctrine is sound it makes
no difference about life. On the contrary, it
makes all the difference in the world." (p. 47)

I John 5:20-21 confirms this for us.
And we know that the Son of God has come and
has given us an understanding, that we may know
Him who is true; and we are in Him who is true,
in His Son Jesus Christ. This is the true God
and eternal life. Little children, keep
yourselves from idols. Amen.

So first-we must know and be in Him who is true.
(sound doctrine)
Second-we must keep ourselves from idols; we
must keep Him who is true first and foremost;
we must turn from every distraction the world
offers and face God.(it makes a difference in
our life)

Here is a wonderful quote in which Machen is
defending the wealth offered in orthodoxy and
in the history of the church through the ages.

After listening to modern tirades against
the great creeds of the Church, one receives
rather a shock when one turns to the
Westminster Confession, for example, or to
that tenderest and most theological of
books, the "Pilgrim's Prgress" of John
Bunyan, and discovers that in doing so one
has turned from shallow modern phrases to
a "dead orthodoxy" that is pulsating with
life in every word. In such orthodoxy
there is life enough to set the whole
world aglow with Christian love. (p. 46)

I just finished reading Persuasion by Jane Austin
for the manyeth time. I was out of sorts from
reading (sometimes just skimming) too many random
books from the library shelves. I needed a dose of
elegant minds and sane conversations.

I also am in the midst of a three day headache and
so between those two happenings (Persuasion and the
headache) imagine my delight when yesterday I found
this at Buried Treasure Books (along with some verses
about Jane Austin by authors Chesterton and Kipling).

When Stretch’d on One’s Bed
by Jane Austen

When stretch’d on one’s bed
With a fierce-throbbing head,
Which precludes alike thought or repose,
How little one cares
For the grandest affairs
That may busy the world as it goes!

How little one feels
For the waltzes and reels
Of our Dance-loving friends at a Ball!
How slight one’s concern
To conjecture or learn
What their flounces or hearts may befall.

How little one minds
If a company dines
On the best that the Season affords!
How short is one’s muse
O’er the Sauces and Stews,
Or the Guests, be they Beggars or Lords.

How little the Bells,
Ring they Peels, toll they Knells,
Can attract our attention or Ears!
The Bride may be married,
The Corse may be carried
And touch nor our hopes nor our fears.

Our own bodily pains
Ev’ry faculty chains;
We can feel on no subject besides.
Tis in health and in ease
We the power must seize
For our friends and our souls to provide.

From the Correspondence Page of the Mayberry Times:

Lots of people are sick, some have been
in the hospital, some are better and some
are not. Hope all are better and able
to be out and about.

Now this bit from the same page is funny:

I felt like my body was getting totally
out of shape, so I got my doctor's
permission to join a health club. My
first step on the road to fitness was
aerobics class for seniors. I bent,
twisted, gyrated, jumped up and down
and perspired profusely for an hour.
By the time I got my leotards on, the
class was over!

Did anybody in Mayberryland notice the notices
on the Religion Page? Let me just list some of
them.
Amity Cemetery Homecoming, Work Day april 14
Wilson Cemetery Work Day April 14
Bennett Cemetery Cleaning April 14
Poynor Cemetery Cleaning April 21
Dalton Cemetery Clean Up Day Planned April 21
Union Cemetery WorK Day April 28
Shirley Cemetery Meeting May 12
(I have to wonder, who is coming home for the
homecoming at Amity?)

And finally this bit of disturbing writing from
the Correspondence Page:

"Food for thought" Many blessings are for
those that believe.

Believe what? That you can pray to a tree and find
peace? That the power is within you and you only
have to tap into it? That love and peace are the
answers to the world's problems? That the Hokey-
Pokey is what it is all about? Or, that there is
a God Who Is There and that He has acted throughout
history to bring the world and us to this moment
in time and that He has revealed that action through
the Scriptures?

Kent is performing several weddings this spring and
early summer. At one of them he is going to be
wearing a tux. He has never had to do this as the
minister in the wedding.

My niece's wedding is next weekend, in Florida, and
we've been emailing back and forth on the details
for a few weeks now. Here's a sampling of those
emails.

To Carolyn:
Thanks for not making Kent wear a Tux as he has to
do at a wedding in June. He hasn't had to wear one
since we got married!

Lots of lovins,
Laurie

From Carolyn:
He does have to wear a tux--a white one with a gold
cummerbund (and gold shoes)

To Carolyn:
Oooh. He'll love it. And he'll look great

To Carolyn:
Kent says he doesn't look good in gold shoes, will
silver work instead?

From Carolyn:
my wedding will be ruined if Kent doesn't wear gold
shoes. I am not joking. Sure, the wedding colors are
red, white and black, but gold will just add that extra
pop.

(ASIDE-Of course I knew Carolyn was just being silly, but
I was on the phone with my sister Becky and she said,
"Are you sure she's not serious. This is a formal
wedding after all." That introduced just that little
tich of doubt that began to nag at me. So I decided to
put Carolyn to the test.)

To Carolyn:
And just where is he supposed to find these shoes?

From Carolyn:
payless?

(ASIDE-Now I knew she was kidding and I put it all in the
"We've been having fun file.") Then the next email came.

From Carolyn:
i know you know i'm kidding, but the paranoid part of my
brain wants to make sure

To Carolyn:
I knew you were kidding, then I talked to Becky about 30
minutes ago and she said, "Well Laurie, you know the wedding
is formal, maybe Carrie is serious." I did not think that
could be, but the paranoid part of my brain, the one that
is genetically related to the paranoid part of your brain,
said, "Laurie, plumb this a little deeper and find out."

The Payless email sealed it for me. I KNEW then that you
were totally kidding.

Lots of lovins,
Laurie

And now you have a small picture of what my family
is really like.

He Is Risen!
Have a wonderful Easter.

We receive a gift subscription to National Geographic,
and a friend of ours passes her Smithsonian magazines
onto to us. Obviously these are both rather liberal
magazines, but The Smithsonian seems slightly less liberal
than the National Geographic. I enjoy reading them both,
but do so through the filter of Scripture.

As I was sitting here on the eve of the most glorious
day in the Christian year, I read the following sentence
in the March 2007 issue of Smithsonian in the article
"Rain Forest Rebel": Catholic and evangelical missionaries
stripped the Indians of their myths and their traditions;
exposure to disease, especially respiratory infections,
killed off thousands.

Now, there is a little psychological trick in usage. The
author makes the work of missionaries and the work of
introduced diseases equal entities. Both are devastating
to the native people. One kills the body; the other kills
the soul.

There is something very subtle here. Its subtlety makes it
even more evil. It becomes another nail in the coffin the
world makes against Christians. It is so small it can
hardly be noticed, and because of that it sinks into the
general conscience without even being noticed. It becomes
the way we think.

Here are people (the missionaries) who realize that life
without an ultimate truth is gossamer. It is delicate;
it is passing; it has no substance; it creates an illusion.
They have good news to offer. There is something that can
be depended on. There is something that will last and stand
the test of time. And that something is equated in the
general view with disease.

Romans 3:13 speaks to people who write such things as this.

Their throat is an open tomb;
With their tongues they have praticed deceit;
The poison of asps is under their lips;

May God raise up many that will go to strip the
myths from the eyes of men and women who are locked
in a world of darkness.

To think or not to think, that is the question.

Not thinking takes less energy, but I have grown to
appreciate all those who do think and then provide
me with a feast to enjoy.

Chrysalis and LeftCoast both nominated me for a Thinking
Blogger Award. Thank you to both of you ladies. I do
believe I am mostly in the "isn't life just plain funny"
category. But I am tickled that my bit of goofiness pleases
you.



The rules for this meme, as well as its buttons, are here.

I enjoy reading blogs that make me think. Here are my
five nominations for this award.

1. Suitable For Mixed Company is always chock-filled
with information and interesting tidbits. I appreciate
her hard work in keeping up with interesting news.

2. Higher Up and Further In has thought provoking posts that
I greatly appreciate.

3. Wittingshire has to be one of my favorite blogs to read.
It is deeply thought provoking and the pictures are always
lovely.

4. SPOGG, which promotes good grammer (which I am afraid I need
a good dose of from time to time) is both fun and thought
provoking.

5. And finally, Irish Calvinist has had me saying, "Good thinking,"
more than once.

These are not the only blogs that make me think. Many have
already been nominated for the award, and I didn't want to
duplicate names. AND I totally avoided the Mayberry blogs
because I didn't want to cause a town feud.

I absolutely howled over the following two bits of writing in
the Mayberry Times this morning. And, I suppose it is some
sort of picture of the way my family views me that as I was
sitting at the table howling away until tears rolled down
my cheeks not one person asked me what was so funny.

Later I did track down Kent and say, "You've got to hear
this." And then we both laughed till our sides hurt, it was
just as funny to me the second time through.

1. This one is from the Correspondence Page.

The jonquils (Easter lilies) are blooming again
along H Junction and V Highway. They have had
a struggle this year with changing weather, snow
and early time change but they continue to give
pleasure to passing folks.

2. The next is from the Lost and Found section.

FOUND
Unusual plant
with dirt ball
attached. Vicinity
Summit Street, Mayberry.
Must identify. Call
870-810-####

(I promise the only thing I
altered was the name of the
town and the phone number.)

Beat that if you can!

GirlTalk has this way too funny video posted.
Billy, you have to watch it. Now I know exactly
how you feel every time Dad and I ask for help.

Tip of the Fedora to Challis

There are just no big or amazing or humorous or important
thoughts swirling around lately. Just Everyday Living is
going on here and mundane thinking is keeping it company.

Well, Grandma's garden is looking good; and she got her
corn planted this week. That is pretty important.

The spring has sprung so quickly this time around. Last
evening, driving home from a ballgame in the gloaming,
was a feast for the eyes. However, every new way of
describing it that came to mind was trite and overused
and seemed an offense to the beauty that was there.
"Verdant" and "green velvet carpet of the fields" and "trick
of light that turns the trees into shimmering gold
for a moment" all seemed rather tired and boring ways
of describing the actuality of the scene.

There has been the give and take of conversation these
past couple of days as my brother, Mike, and his wife Debby
have been making a pit stop in Mayberry on their way from
a visit in The Big City and heading back to their home in
Orlando. There will be more chitter and chatter as Kent's
parents come from The Big City today for a visit and a chance
to see one of the ballgames.

There is thankfulness that today Mom has her last radiation
treatment, and hopefully Thursday her fourth chemo. That
will leave only 2 more chemo treatments. And she is
ready to hop up and down, and since she got her blood
transfusion last week she can hop up and down, because
her CA-125 is well within the normal level now.

Today is another day to trust in the Creator and Sustainer
of all things. Whatever may come from His hands today, may
there be obedience and trust in the response that is given
back to Him.

I haven't linked to any contests for quite some time,
but here is one that you might like to check out.
Five Minutes for Mom is giving away a Dyson Slim
Vacuum on April 4th. To enter go to their site and
link up. A new vacuum would be mighty nice, however a
new refrigerator would be mighty nicer.

Lilacs in March. Unheard of. Unthinkable.
Unimaginable. True.

Yesterday I saw both a frog and a turtle
cross the road. In March. Incredible.
Amazing. Wild.

I am needing a really good thunderstorm
to let off some energy. We could stand
out on the porch and watch it roll past.
That would be a marvelous way to wave
good-bye to March and hello to April.

Straight from the Mayberry Times-

"Hello from our town where two exciting events
took place. Betty Abernathy's dog ran away from
home and I have two black eyes."

I love it. I absolutely love living in Mayberry!

Ooh La La...Red Buds AND Dogwood AND a waxing moon.

Now I know how to make a ball if there is no ball.
Take an old tire, from a model T if possible, and cut
a round piece of rubber from it. Find some old feed
bags and unravel them. Then take the string from the
feed bags and wrap it around and around and around until
the ball is the size you want. And then, well, go play
ball!

G'ma Opal was on a roll (no pun intended) last night.
The spring weather just fills her to the brim with
nostalgic feelings. She is rather amazed when she
stops to think that her children range in age from
60 to 76. Can you imagine having a son who is 76?
Crazy!

Her garden looks good too. She's got spinach, lettuce,
onions, beets, cabbage and even some tomato plants out
already. And everything is just picture perfect.

I can't wait for her to call and say, "Laurie, I just
picked a mess of (fill in the blank), do you want some?"

Do I? Boy howdy!

Kent and I are not originally from Mayberry. (True
Mayberrianites still shake their heads at us and wonder
about our strange ways.) We both were raised in The Big
City. When we first moved down here we would lie in bed
with the windows open and say, "I feel like I am at camp."
The sounds and smells were so different from those in The
Big City. That feeling still haunts (in a delicious way)
us.

This morning, as I was sitting on the love seat with an
open window at my back, I felt the sweet, cool breeze
blowing in, I smelled the dust and pollen floating upon
the air, and I listened to the outside world waking up
with its riot of bird calls, rooster crowings and dog
barkings.

That is what I would miss most if I ever had to leave
Mayberry, the smell and sounds and softness of a spring
or summer morning.

It is funny though, because there are other sounds and
odors that make me homesick for places that I have only
visited for short periods of time. I am homesick for the
ocean. A few times I have been able to be in a hut or
a motel right on the beach and listen to the incessant
swooshing of the waves and feel and smell the salt laden
air blowing in the window. Sometimes I ache with missing
those sounds and smells.

I miss The Big City too. Even though I grew up in the
suburbs, there is something I miss about being "downtown"
with all the energy and creativity of the people, the outside
restaurants, the folks walking their dogs, the highrise
apartments that make you wonder what is happening inside
all those windows.

I guess this feeling of being at home and yet never feeling
quite at home is just a symptom of living on this earth.
When even creation itself is groaning for its completion
(Romans 8:22-25)how can I expect to be totally comfortable
in it? Oh, may that day, that day of completion, hurry!

I've read some interesting articles over the past few
days. This one, by Po Bronson in New York Magazine
is extremely though provoking. If you have children,
or you work with children, you need to read this article
on the negative effects of praise.
Tip of the bonnet to The Beehive.

I found this article on great reasons to have kids at
Mommy Life.
Tip of the bonnet to Amy's Humble Musings.

I forgot; I did; I truly forgot how difficult it
is to get dirt and grass stains out of a WHITE
ball uniform. WHITE uniforms for an outdoor
game played by boys? The person who ordered
those should be hung and quartered. Now I am
descending into the Middle Ages.

I pulled a book off the shelf that we've had
for probably over 20 years yet I've never read.
It is Christianity & Liberalism by J. Gresham
Machen.

I can't give a full review here because I am
only on page 8, but I was captivated from the
first paragraph of the introduction.

"Light may seem at times to be an impertinent
intruder, but it is always beneficial in the
end. The type of religion which rejoices in
the pious sound of traditional phrases,
regardless of their meanings, or shrinks from
"controversial" matters, will never stand amid
the shocks of life. In the sphere of religion,
as in other spheres, the things about which men
are agreed are apt to be the things that are
least worth holding; the really important things
are the things about which men will fight."

Already I have used my underlining pen a lot.
Expect to read more about Machen's book in the future.

Peepers AND Johnny-Jump Ups. Life is delicious.

And I can't even show you because my camera is
on a trip to The Big City. Billy kidnapped it.

Spring is not a good time to have a kidnapped
camera.

In thinking it over, it seems a little presumptuous
on my part to think you'd really be interested in the
few books I manage to read these days. In my younger
days I read constantly, but now so many other voices
call to me and distract me from reading time. I do
squeeze in a little reading in the wee hours of the
morning during my time of devotions, and I crunch in
a tiny bit at the end of the day as I am falling exhaustedly
into bed, but that is pretty much the extent of my time
spent between the covers of a book.

However, assuming you are interested-here goes with the
few I've managed to make it through in the last several
bits of time I've had.

1. Robert the Bruce: King of Scots by Ronald McNair Scott.
This is truly a history book. It took me a few chapters
to get my bearings on who was who. I was a bit surprised
that William Wallace, though he was a big part in the
fight for the independence, really played second fiddle
totally to Robert the Bruce. The setting is definitely
Middle Ages, so if you have a squeamish stomach this is
probably not the read for you. But, if you like to know
exactly how and why things came about-go ahead and tackle
it. Now I understand where the Stewarts came from that
are so much a part of Scotland by the time of RLS's
Kidnapped.
I loved the Robert Burns poem that the book ends with.

Scots wha hae with Wallace bled
Scots wham Bruce has aften led
Welcome to your gory bed
Or to victorie

2. In the Name of Jesus:Reflections on Christian Leadership
by Henri J.M. Nouwen.
Here is a thought provoking book on the Christian leader
becoming a servant. While Nouwen does have a sense of
mysticism that I am uncomfortable with, he has a sincerity
of purpose that is commendable. How many Christian leaders
will purposefully give up lucrative and high-profile positions
in the Christian realm in order to follow the mandate of Jesus
to become a servant? I am afraid that most of our radio/
television personalities and book writing gurus wouldn't
come close to the humility and honesty that Nouwen offers
us.

3. Found: God's Will by John MacArthur, Jr.
You can't go wrong with John MacArthur. He is sound.
He is solid. No slippery slopes here, just a good
reminder of where we are and where we are headed.

4. I started a book last night that I picked off the shelf
in the library. It took about five minutes to decide to
shut it and forget it. It reminded me of most modern
day sitcoms on television. There were too many references
to s*x, even though they were couched in a playful, seemingly
rather harmless story. My time is too precious to watch
or read such nonsense. Now that leads me to speak of one of
the good things that has come about in modern day Mayberry.
A year or so ago the library got computerized. We now check
out our books electronically. Previous to that there was the
old library card you signed. My name is on some books that
I never read past the first page. I would be so ashamed that
others could see that I had even checked that particular book
out...of course, it could be fun to see who else had checked
out such horrid books and play the goody-goody who would
exclaim to herself, "Oh my, look what they have been reading.
How shocking!"

One last (maybe) post on peepers. Did you know
that the warmer the temperature the faster peepers
pees? They are like crickets in this way. Now, this
is not something I have read, it is just a little
something I have noticed myself.

And that is a great help. When I get up in the
morning it is still dark and they are still
peeping. If they are peeping fast, I don a
short sleeve shirt. If the peeps are stretched
far apart I head for the sweater drawer.

Who really needs noaa anyway?

Yesterday a most truly amazing thing happened. I
still can not quite believe it. Our bull practically
loaded himself into our stock trailer.

We, and especially Kent, had been fretting for several
weeks over how we could go about loading the Big Boy.
We needed to get rid of him and we already had a new
bull waiting in the wings. Our problem was we are just
Mom and Pop homesteaders. We are not really set up to
handle a lot of the intricacies of raising cattle. So,
we try to keep our 8 or 10 bovine pretty tame. That
doesn't eliminate all the adventures at loading time,
but it does help.

The problem was that Big Boy was scared of us. He
wasn't necessarily belligerent, but rather more on
the petrified side of things. That could be as
dangerous as belligerent if he were cornered.

But yesterday, ah now, that was just amazing. Kent put
some food in the barn and he (the bull) wandered in to
eat it, along with two other cows. Kent snuck up and
blocked the door. Then he sent Hattie to get me. I
ran outside and stood in front of the barrier to keep
the bull from jumping over it while Kent ran and got
the truck and stock trailer. It is so comforting when
your husband shouts to you as he runs to get the truck,
"If he starts to jump, get out of the way!"

The trailer was duly backed up to the barn door and the
only way the cows could go was into the trailer. Kent
went to get feed to try and coax them that direction.
The other two cows just jumped into the trailer as
though they were headed to a party. I was blocking
the small gap to keep the bull from trying to push the
trailer away from the barn and escape. He came to the
gap and stood there for 3 or 4 minutes. I didn't look
at him, because I didn't want him to think I was thinking
about him. Then, before Kent could return with the
feed he just stepped right into the trailer. I reached
back and slid the gate in place and dropped in the pin
and BINGO. We had ourselves a bull.

Then we had to drive to the other field and the cows
were lined up perfectly so that when we opened the
back gate the two we didn't want to sell stepped right
off again. Then Big Boy scrunched himself up towards
the front so we could close the middle door and trap
him into the front where he had to be in order to
balance the weight.

I am sorry to trouble you with such a long story.
It is just that we are still in a fog of amazement.

And, of course Hattie went to the sale barn because
she loves to bid on cows. And now we own a new black
heifer and a new black with white face heifer.

One of the most precious moments of being a
mother is when a little person comes running
inside with a handful of flowers and presents
them-"For YOU, Mommy. I picked them for YOU."

But, it gets better still. When that little
person is nine, or seventeen, or twenty or
twenty-three and they bring flowers in and
find vases and carefully arrange them for you-
that is beyond precious. It is the very fabric
of life.

Not only is my little heart warmed to its very
cockles, my faith is strengthened. I look at
my pretty little bouquets and am reminded of
Matthew 6:28-30--So why do you worry about clothing?
Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow:
they neither toil nor spin; and yet I say to you
that even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed
like one of these. Now if God so clothes the grass
of the field, which today is, and tomorrow is thrown
into the oven, will He not much more clothe you, O
you of little faith?

If you will insist on fishing when the weather is a
tich cold, you might just look like this.





























But then again, any day spent on the Sparkling Jewell
is worth it in my guys estimation.

Why doesn't anyone in Mayberry ever live up the gravel?

I wanna know.

Last night I found this gem.

"How foolish we are to think we are in control.
As parents we are far better off preparing our
children for eternity than for life. That, I
think, is ultimately the point of classical
education. We are not preparing our children
for careers since we hardly know what career
or careers they will have but rather we are
preparing them to live as servants of God in
this world and beyond."

You can find the rest of the post at Dominion
Family.

Last night Joel called from work. He is thrilled
and so are we. He just found out that he gets to
move to days. And on top of that, he gets to move
to the line he was wanting to be on. Life for him
is often difficult, so these blessings are huge to
him and to us.

I think a party is in order. I told him to be
thinking about what he wants me to cook.

He giggled.

Speaking of food. Last night I make chicken and
dumplings. I wanna know why I can't make c & d
without spinach as a side dish? They go together
in my mind like peanut butter and jelly. I also
love pickled beets with c & d, but am out of them
at the moment. I need G'ma Opal's garden to get
in gear!

This is not the post I intended to write. That will
have to wait because, when I stepped out on my front
porch to say, "Good Morning" to the morning, I was
enveloped in a cloak of a deep, drippy, dark, delightful
fog. I wanted to take a picture, but I knew it would
not turn out.

As I stood there, I was listening to the morning wake-
up sounds and they were blending with the end of night
sounds. The peepers were there but slowly fading away.
The occasional bull frog was still making his presence
known. Across the way a rooster was letting his consorts
know it was time to get their sleepy heads to open their
eyes and begin looking around for breakfast. The birds
were beginning to trill and cheep and sing.

The Lord is good to us. These kinds of gifts are beyond
measure.

I know I am in a rut with these peepers, but I thought that
you might enjoy listening to them. This site has a lovely
peeper sound. Just click on the words "Listen to its call."
And then, just be jealous of me and mine. For the full effect
set your computer by your bed and let it play the peeper noise
all night long. Nice.

For a good picture of a peeper go here.

See? I told you!

Oh, we are thankful for each and every sign of Spring.

The fields turning green. I wish I could truly show
you how green the fields are becoming.

The daffy-dills in bloom.

The trees that look a little furry with the tiny flowers
popping open.

The peepers (we must never forget the peepers).

The thunderstorms.

The rush of life that is trying to burst through
the cracks of winter.

Stand back a safe distance because here it comes.

Order from chaos. That is my usual Monday routine.
The house, Hattie's schoolwork, my brain and my life
in general need some straightening out come Monday
morning. There is a lot zipping around in the grey
matter this morning and perhaps to pin some of it
down would help to bring a little order. That would
be nice.

1. I was just reading in the Missouri Conservationist
a little article about introducing kids to the "Outdoors".
It had oodles of suggestions and then emphasized that,
of course, you want to protect your kids from snakes and
black widows etc. That reminded me of the time that
Joel caught a black widow and put it in a jar. Then he
said, "Now if I can get a brown recluse I'll have a
collection of all the poisonous spiders in Missouri."
And there is no end of times he has picked up snakes in
order to either move them to another spot or protect
his precious chickens. My dad once came home from school
with a snake wrapped around his pants as a belt. Snakes
aren't always so bad!

2. My brother and sister-in-law popped into Mayberry for
a surprise visit this weekend. We've had a lovely time
with them. (Hi, Debby! you lurker!) When we stopped in
last evening to say, "Howdy!" and to enjoy some of Tandy's
delish popcorn, I heard a new springtime sound. Bullfrogs.
They were just getting cranked up. They are not loud yet,
but they will be soon. Sometimes, in my yard, the bullfrogs
are so loud a person has to almost yell to be heard.

3. I've been reading several books lately on "Finding the
Will of God." There is certainly a lot of garbage written
in this department, but when you come across a statement
like the following you sit up and take notice.

" Is it not Biblical to suggest that peace in taking the
next step arises out of knowing God rather than in finding
the right set of rules for guidance? Do we not in
retrospect see that some of life's greatest doors swung
open or shut on hinges too small for us to perceive at
the time--hinges that were set by the Sovereign God?

God, the Sovereign. The Great Initiator.
The Awful Interrupter. The Shepherd who leads
His flock. The Predestinator. The One who
opens and no man can shut, who shuts and no
man can open.

'This God is our God for ever and ever; He will
be our Guide even unto death.(Ps. 48:14)'"
This is from the preface of Essays on Guidance.

Oops, I forgot a few things in that last post, but,
then really, it was quite long enough already.

1. I knew I was home when I got out of the truck
and heard the blessed music of the peepers. They
were peepering with all their might and it was
be-yew-ti-ful!

2. Dad says I get preachy sometimes on this blog.
Sorry. I won't promise to quit, but I do apologize
ahead of time for doing it. I don't really want
to be said of me what Churchill said of Sir Stafford
Cripps, "There but for the grace of God goes God."

Kent, Hattie and I left Mayberry for a few days to
go be with my parents for my mother's third chemo
treatment. Her white blood count was fine and she
was able to take the treatment and we were glad for
it.

I had been looking forward to seeing her in her
Chatty Cathy mode. We met them at 7:00am and went
to the hospital together. Her schedule was a full
one because she first had an internal radiation,
then a doctor visit and then the chemo.

Of course, since she had a bad reaction during the first
session of chemo, she now must start her steroids the
night before. So, she was pretty pumped by the time we
met her at 7:00am. She already had 10 decadron pills
inside her.

Mom moves pretty fast anyway, especially when she is
walking, and I noticed that she led the way wherever we
went, and Dad, Kent and I were strung out behind, trying
to keep up.

She was especially thrilled (and so were we) by the news
that Dr. Thaker gave her. Her CA-125 level was down to the
normal range. It was a 23 and normal is 0-30. CA-125 is
a blood test that checks for ovarian cancer. And, on top
of that, because she is responding so well, Dr. Thaker said
that if things continue so she will move Mom's fifth
treatment back a week so she can go to her oldest grand-
daughter's wedding in Florida.

Friday we met my sister's family over at Hope Lodge, which
is place my folks stay while they are in The Big City. Becky
brought lunch and I brought a barrel of pretzels. It
was fun. Derrill (Becky's husband) is still jet lagged from
their trip to the Philippines and he sacked out on one of
the couches. But then, come to think of it, so did Kent and
Billy. Dad may not have been sacked, but he was very
comfortable. What was Mom doing? What else...playing
High Five with her three granddaughters.

There you have it, a Shirley Update. She probably feels
rather rotten today, and probably will tomorrow too, but
that will pass and she'll just keep being the hoot she
always is. Oh, I didn't mention that as the afternoon
wore away during her chemo treatment she actually turned
rather mellow, at least mellow for her. She did talk,
but even the nurse said it was nothing like the first
time she was there. She didn't sleep any, but she was
pretty much just MaMa.

The chemo room is not very big and really Dad, Kent
and I couldn't all stay in there all the time. So Kent
and Dad went out for lunch and they toured the Cathedral
de Basilica while they were out. I was jealous because
that is a place I really want to see. It is just a few
blocks from where my folks are staying at Hope Lodge.
Kent loved it. It is rather breath taking I gather. If
you are ever at The Big City and looking for something to
go, head to Lindell and take in the Cathedral.

The whole purpose of the previous post was to write a
book review or two. It certainly goes to show you how
far astray one can wander if one is not disciplined in
their writing.

My original intention was to zoom through the book
In the Steps of Moses by Louis Golding. A friend
found it at a used book sale, read it, and wanted to
have me read it. My pile of books is huge and really
it just didn't look too appetizing. I let it sit on
the pile for probably a year before I actually picked
it up and attempted it.

My thinking was, I'll just read the first sentence of
every paragraph, then I'll have a good idea of the book
and be able to give it back. Oh, how wrong I was. I
did that for a few pages, and then, I absolutely could
not help myself, I found I couldn't just skip over all
those sentences. Here was a man who could made every
word count. It is brilliantly written. I loved it;
every sentence shines.

It doesn't matter a whit if you are interested in tracing
the footsteps of Moses or not. For that matter, it doesn't
matter whether you are interested in Lawrence of Arabia or
not (he fills nearly as many pages as Moses does.) Golding
will draw the reader in, and you will understand what traveling
through Arabia was like in the early part of the last
century.

Perhaps if you are stuck in the Christian love dribble book
world this would not appeal to you, but for everyone else I
highly recommend looking high and low for a copy of this book.

As a teenager I remember wanting to make my mark on the
world. Somewhere in my diary I have written the following
excerpt, but this is paraphrased because I really don't want
to take hours to find the exact wording.

"I know I'm supposed to do something big. I must be either
a dancer, writer, artist, musician, or singer. I have so
much inside of me that needs to be expressed to the world."

Now that is funny. I've been noticing posts by several people
where they write a letter to themselves at the age of 17 or
so. I think rather than a letter I should hit my 17 year
old self over the head with a baseball bat and say, "Wake up
honey! You've got it all wrong."

Of course the first problem is that I am not at all graceful,
just ask Philippine Sister who tried to help me in this regard,
therefore nix the dancing. I can't carry a tune, ask Kent on
that one, so nix the singing. I am really rather lazy AND I
am a little tone deaf so nix the music playing. I have really
a hard time drawing much besides stick figures (though my niece
Carolyn Fleetwood is a very accomplished artist) so nix the
artwork. Okay, that brings us to the writing.

The problem is I see a little too clearly my own faults. Once
in a while I can turn out a sentence that is nice. But mainly
they are very run-of-the-mill productions. I can very easily
see that with my 46 year old eyes; the 17 year old was slightly
blinded by immaturity and inexperience.

In fact, I judge writing by whether they do a better job than I
do. The Baroness Orczy did that too. If I correctly remember
the story, she was listening to a story one day that had won
a contest and she thought, "Why I could do better than that."
And so we have The Scarlet Pimpernel, which just happens to
be one of the greatest books ever written.

I take rather the opposite approach though. I am not driven to
write a novel because of some drivel I read. But I do toss it
aside and say, "They can't write any better than I can. They are
not worth my few moments of leisure." This applies to a lot
of books, Christian and secular. It applies to novels and to
serious works. If a person can't turn a sentence to make a
work of art out of it, I refuse to waste my time.

Basically I avoid a lot of book conversations with people
because of this. I don't want to offend by saying, "Well really,
I thought that was a horrid bit of writing." Better to just
not go there.

This was all supposed to be an introduction to a book review,
actually two book reviews. But I do believe I have exhausted
my reader as well as myself. So I will save the reviews for
another day.

Happy reading!

Pretty completely this past weekend was devoted to a
volleyball tournament our Mexico Mission Team was hosting
to raise funds for the materials we'll need when we
travel to Mexico this summer.

Friday was filled with details in preparation.
Saturday was the tournament which began at 8:00am
and lasted until about 7:00.
Sunday was the achy and jammed finger part.

But, Jackie and Laura eat your hearts out, my Red-Headed
Snippets and Gang took second place. See what you
missed out on Ruth, you could have been in this lovely
picture.















If you've ever read my profile you ought to be able to pick
me out.

G'ma Opal's mouse take for the month of February is 6.
She really gets a kick out of this ongoing rodent war.

My good friend, Jackie, gave me her own mousey update the
other day. Eight. And she had a mole to boot. She walked
out her door and her cat had left eight mice and one mole
on her carport. Beat that if you can.

Signs of the Times

March came in like a lion yesterday. At least it did
10 miles from here. There was a good, strong storm
that blew through Mayberry yesterday morning. They had
wind; they had dark skies; they had hail.

All we had was a tich of rain and a blowsy wind.

So does that mean March will go out like a lamb ten miles
away in Mayberry, but not here?

The weather, warmth wise, has been creeping towards
spring. It has rushed towards spring in another way.
The Japanese beetles are out in full force. I will
elaborate.

A few years ago the Japanese beetle migration reached
Mayberry. They look like ladybugs but aren't. They
smell bad when smushed and they sting too, if you let
them. They leave an ugly spot on the wall at times.

My poor mother and grandmother are nearly driven to
distraction by these beetles because they will come
in by the hundreds and sometimes thousands. You can
not stop them. They hibernate between the siding and
the outside wall and creep in when the weather begins
to warm up. Mom and G'ma Opal will smush, vacuum, sweep,
knock, just do anything possible to eliminate them, but
they keep coming. I have them in every room right now
myself.

But, if having to deal with Japanese beetles means that
I also get to hear peepers every time I step out the
door at night, I'll deal with them right cheerfully.

I love getting to the ends of the various epistles of
the New Testament because the benedictions that are
given are so apt for nightly blessings for my own
children.

Hebrews has a beautiful benediction (nightly blessing).

Hebrews 13:20-21
Now may the God of peace who brought up our Lord Jesus
from the dead, that great Shepherd of the sheep, through
the blood of the everlasting covenant, make you complete
in every good work to do His will, working in you what
is well pleasing in His sight, through Jesus Christ, to
whom be glory forever and ever. Amen.

I don't say the whole of the two verses when I glide
through the rooms at night. I pick out the kernel and
whisper those words.

I got a funny feeling though when today, as I continued
in James, I read these words.

James 1:2,3
My brethren, count it all joy when you fall into various
trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces
patience. But let patience have its perfect work,
that you may be perfect and complete, lacking nothing.

Ouch.

I don't want my children to endure trials. But then again,
if it causes them to become "complete in every good work
to do His will," maybe I do.

I get a little irritated when I hear people say,
"I am not sure I want to bring children into this
world the way things are today." Sometimes it may
be older folks and they say, "Things are just so
much worse today than they used to be, I don't
know how young people can make it now."

We think that if we could have lived in some other
time and place things would have been simpler and purer,
and it would have been easier to raise our children.

I always rather thought I should have been a pioneer
Me, who can't stand a cold house, HA! I've loved
the thought of hoop skirts and lots of crinoline, yet
I am somewhat claustrophobic and would probably have
been locked up when they tried to tighten the stays.
Joel always wanted to live in the time of Knight
Errantry. He wanted to fight the dragon and win fair
lady. Hattie thinks the Indians and their way of life
was a better and higher way.

But God is sovereign. He has put me and each of my own
children into this particular time and this particular
country and even his particular community for a very
particular reason. (Okay that was a little repetitious.)
But, the point is made. God is never caught off guard.
He is not surprised by what happens around us. If indeed
history is really what we claim it to be, His Story, then
He has put us exactly where He wants us and it is all for
some very glorious purpose.

Now there is great confidence in that truth.

Finrod in The Lord of the Kingdom says it more eloquently.

"‘I wish it need not have happened in my time,’
said Frodo.

‘So do I,’ said Gandalf, ‘and so do all who live
to see such times. But that is not for them to decide.
All we have to decide is what to do with the time that
is given us.’

Throughout my life I periodically have indulged in
wishful-thinking: I have dreamed of having been born a
century earlier, or perhaps several hundreds of years
before, when the world (in my imagination) was much
simpler and more to my liking than these days in which
I find myself. Many of us long, I suspect, for days
that never really were as we want to believe they were.

But God did not fall asleep on his watch, only to waken
and discover that he was late in tossing me into life.
I am where I belong. I do not get to choose the state
of the church of my time, or the cultural battles that
rage, or the theological slide that I perceive.

My - our - only decision is what Gandalf lays out:
“what to do with the time that is given us.” Paul said
as much, too, exhorting us to be always “making the most
of your time, because the days are evil” (Eph 5:15-17).
This means I must choose wisely and I must be diligent:
I cannot live either in the past or the future; I can
only live today and do what I may as long as it is called
today.

These days may seem black and dark, but all days are so
to those engaged in spiritual warfare. There is glorious
light to behold one day, but not yet - not while the Enemy
still opposes our King and his purposes. My job is to do
as I’m told and not wish it were otherwise."