An afternoon at the Library is a lovely thing, especially if the day is rainy and on the chilly side, as most of Alaska's summer has been this year. My youngest son, TJ, and I have made many trips this summer, it's a great bonding time for us and you can take something home for FREE!
In addition to checking out the limit of books and movies, we always take time to browse through the discarded books that are looking for good homes. Once they were all of the science fiction genre, another time they were cookbooks. Today most of the free books consisted of "more power to the women" books, not of much interest to my 17 year old tough guy. He did, however manage to find a book or two to add to his home library as did I (Sketches, by Washington Irving...YES!!!). TJ and I carried our treasure out to the car, stopped for pizza and ice cream (I only had one bite...honestly!), and then home to review our booty! There stuck between the cover of my hard back book and a video was a small paper back. "TJ," I say, "I think I have one of your books in my stack, it's called...." To my surprise I noticed the unmistakable logo of Harlequin on the top of the cover and a ooh-la-la picture of a passionately embracing couple! "TJ!" I call as I hold the book for his viewing, "I'm surprised you want to read The Spaniard and the Pregnancy Proposal (No lie! That was the name of the book!). "Mom," he coolly says, "That's YOUR book!" Well! I haven't read a Harlequin since high school! After all, I am an accomplished reader! I selected Washington Irving, not.....whoever it was that penned this little, dare I say it, trashy novel! As it turned out, I inadvertently picked up two other books that were in a stack that I had, I think, set MY stack on top of.
The dilemma here, as I see it, is what to do with the SPP book. I really hate throwing books away, but don't feel I can in good conscience send it to the good will with all the "good" books I have ready to donate, ...good taste and all that jazz... Hmmm. Well, until I decide I guess I'll just put it safely on my nightstand....Yawn! I think I'll take a little nap : )
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Dreams, Hopes, Wishes
Suddenly I'm reevaluating my dreams. I have had those late night dreams that sort out my chaotic thoughts and feelings of my waking hours. My sister, Masha, helps me form them into plausible and sometimes hilarious interpretations. My hopes tend to run toward the usual: I hope I loose a pound this week, I hope our car holds out another year, I hope I remembered to turn the coffee pot off this morning. And what of my wishes?
- Starlight, star bright,
- first star I see tonight,
- I wish I may I wish I might
- Have the wish I wish tonight...
At this p
oint I close my eyes, cross my fingers and mumble, "I wish to go on a three month cruise to the Greek Ilse." Even as I'm wishing I know it ain't a-gonna happen! I'm so sorry, but "when you wish upon a star..." more than likely your dreams will not come true. Yes, Jiminy Cricket lied...
As an adult I can deal with this truth, although it is rather disappointing. But that's where hope comes in.
Joseph's strange nocturnal visions eventually came to pass, but he had to wait for the cup bearer's (fortunate man) and baker's (poor man) dreams to come to pass. The coming of Joseph's dreams was also the result of Pharaoh's two dreams. Of course Abraham's dreams were waking visions bringing him a hope of children by the dozens! Although his dreams came true, he never actually saw the heirs too numerous to count, except from Heaven's shores. And what of Pinocchio's wish to be a "real boy"? Well, in fairy tales dreams do come true, and he became a real boy, loved by his creator, Gipetto.
I'm not sure where my dreams, hopes and wishes are taking me, even at this semi-late date in my life. I do know there are things I want to accomplish, places I want to go, things I want to see, but wishing will not take me there, somehow my hopes are linked to my faith, and my dreams will come about by the grace of God, blessing my efforts.
So..., I will make a move toward pursuing the dream, in hopes of fulfilling God's plan for me, and please...wish me well!
Monday, June 30, 2008
Bumping Behinds
It's a beautiful day in Anchorage, AK, so I jumped at the chance to take a deposit to the bank for my office. I have never been entrusted with this much coveted task since I am somewhat of a lower end employee, but since most of the office is on vacation I had my long awaited shot! I took the very important looking black bag and hid it behind my purse to discourage any pick-pockets that might be lurking in the shadows for an unsuspecting, important employee, such as myself. With heart pounding, I checked out all the cars in the parking lot of the bank to determined that no one suspicious was watching and darted toward the double doors. Once inside the pleasantly cool lobby a voice interrupted my visual sweep of the perimeter, "May I help you?" she asked? "Yes," I answered in my most efficient, business like attitude, " I would like to make a deposit." Amazingly, the teller counted my funds, tip-tip-tapped a secret code on her computer and the deed was done. Having felt like I had accomplished an important task, I casually strolled back to my car and began the process of backing up.
Do you know that sickening feeling when you come to the top of the worlds tallest roller coaster and zoom towards earth at a heart stopping speed? It's the same feeling you get when you feel a spine jarring jolt and hear that "WHOMP" sound of two bumpers slamming together. Suddenly that very important, accomplished feeling I had a split second before vanished and there I was, an idiot in a parking lot who didn't bother looking twice in the rear view mirror. I did what all good Christian girls do at that moment, prayed, "Oh God, please don't let that person swear at me....!" Thankfully, it was a little elderly lady with perfectly white hair and a little powder blue, polyester pant suit who was backing at the same time I was. She exited the other car and obviously had been praying the same prayer I had just prayed. We checked out our "bumped behinds" and quickly determined there was no damage except for some dust knocked from the bumpers and a dent in our pride. We exchanged smiles and "good days" instead of insurance info and carefully drove away from the parking lot.
Funny how that little quote from the Good Book is so true, "Pride goes before a fall (behind bump in this case)." I am happy to report I am back to my comfy lower end employee position and my pride has been sufficiently deflated, for the moment.
Do you know that sickening feeling when you come to the top of the worlds tallest roller coaster and zoom towards earth at a heart stopping speed? It's the same feeling you get when you feel a spine jarring jolt and hear that "WHOMP" sound of two bumpers slamming together. Suddenly that very important, accomplished feeling I had a split second before vanished and there I was, an idiot in a parking lot who didn't bother looking twice in the rear view mirror. I did what all good Christian girls do at that moment, prayed, "Oh God, please don't let that person swear at me....!" Thankfully, it was a little elderly lady with perfectly white hair and a little powder blue, polyester pant suit who was backing at the same time I was. She exited the other car and obviously had been praying the same prayer I had just prayed. We checked out our "bumped behinds" and quickly determined there was no damage except for some dust knocked from the bumpers and a dent in our pride. We exchanged smiles and "good days" instead of insurance info and carefully drove away from the parking lot.
Funny how that little quote from the Good Book is so true, "Pride goes before a fall (behind bump in this case)." I am happy to report I am back to my comfy lower end employee position and my pride has been sufficiently deflated, for the moment.
Monday, June 16, 2008
This Hallowed Ground
I had the honor of speaking to a women's group the other night. My topic was in reference to suffering and my scripture text was from 2 Corinthians. Paul lists a whole plethora of things our suffering does for us, but one that caught my attention was how suffering makes us revere those who have suffered honorably.
November, 1863, several months after the battle of Gettysburg (July 1-3), President Lincoln was invited to make a "few appropriate remarks" at the consecration of a cemetery for the Union war dead. It was delivered at the dedication of the Soldiers National Cemetery in Gettysburg, PA, on the afternoon of Thursday, November 19, 1863, Lincoln delivered a speech that was only three minutes in duration. The following is an excerpt from his Gettysburg Address.
“But, in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate—we cannot consecrate—we cannot hallow—this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here.”
Lincoln sensed that it didn't matter what he said, he could not consecrate what was already made reverent by the suffering of Union and Confederate soldiers dying in horrible pain for what they believed to be freedom. If you were to visit the Soldiers National Cemetery this summer, that same hallowedness would still permeate the atmosphere and you would hear people hush their voices, remove their hats and lower their gaze in honor of those laid to rest on that battlefield, and hopefully realize it was done on their behalf.
The elements of Communion are sacred because of the suffering they represent. The bread-the broken, crushed Body. The wine-the freely flowing Blood. As I hold them in my human hands, I am amazed at their holiness made available to me though the suffering of Christ, done on my behalf.
Today, I think of someone I would honor who has suffered for the things he has believed in, but I cannot make holy the "ground", for his suffering has already accomplished this task. However, to you, I do give my heart felt regards and undying respect.
November, 1863, several months after the battle of Gettysburg (July 1-3), President Lincoln was invited to make a "few appropriate remarks" at the consecration of a cemetery for the Union war dead. It was delivered at the dedication of the Soldiers National Cemetery in Gettysburg, PA, on the afternoon of Thursday, November 19, 1863, Lincoln delivered a speech that was only three minutes in duration. The following is an excerpt from his Gettysburg Address.
“But, in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate—we cannot consecrate—we cannot hallow—this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here.”
Lincoln sensed that it didn't matter what he said, he could not consecrate what was already made reverent by the suffering of Union and Confederate soldiers dying in horrible pain for what they believed to be freedom. If you were to visit the Soldiers National Cemetery this summer, that same hallowedness would still permeate the atmosphere and you would hear people hush their voices, remove their hats and lower their gaze in honor of those laid to rest on that battlefield, and hopefully realize it was done on their behalf.
The elements of Communion are sacred because of the suffering they represent. The bread-the broken, crushed Body. The wine-the freely flowing Blood. As I hold them in my human hands, I am amazed at their holiness made available to me though the suffering of Christ, done on my behalf.
Today, I think of someone I would honor who has suffered for the things he has believed in, but I cannot make holy the "ground", for his suffering has already accomplished this task. However, to you, I do give my heart felt regards and undying respect.
Monday, June 2, 2008
Ho Hum!
Sometimes I sit down to a blank screen, knowing I really need to update my blog, but nothing that would interest you comes to mind. Not that I don't have huge issues going on in my life, they would probably just bore you. I could tell you that I finally got my flowers planted. They sat on my front porch for a week. The pansies almost croaked before they were planted, but they seem to be rebounding well (okay, that was very boring). My grand baby, Julian, came over yesterday. He's sooo adorable! He's eating rice cereal now...what? You say that's not of interest to you either? Tough crowd! Hmmm...
On those days when life seems to be the most usual to the outsider, the insider (that would be me) deals with the uncertainty of the future, the question of loyalties, the doubt of self-worth and a myriad of other issues. These are the things that we seldom share with our most intimate relationships let alone the entire world (okay, I know there are only 5 of you out there that actually read this blog). Life does tend to keep me humble and prayed up. I won't share all the "boring details". I know you also have issues you face everyday that are kept from the view of the world, as they should be. Some things are just to private (or boring) to share.
I propose a deal: You pray for me, I'll pray for you! And surely we'll all survive!
On my honor, I will come up with a really great entry for your reading enjoyment!
On those days when life seems to be the most usual to the outsider, the insider (that would be me) deals with the uncertainty of the future, the question of loyalties, the doubt of self-worth and a myriad of other issues. These are the things that we seldom share with our most intimate relationships let alone the entire world (okay, I know there are only 5 of you out there that actually read this blog). Life does tend to keep me humble and prayed up. I won't share all the "boring details". I know you also have issues you face everyday that are kept from the view of the world, as they should be. Some things are just to private (or boring) to share.
I propose a deal: You pray for me, I'll pray for you! And surely we'll all survive!
On my honor, I will come up with a really great entry for your reading enjoyment!
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
What To Do With Rosie
This last week we watched yet another of our 5 children march across a stage dressed as a scholar to receive a high school diploma. It's amazing, but 16 years ago a two year old girl with huge brown eyes, dark curly hair and a pixy grin came bouncing into our lives! She made us break the rule we had so rigidly clung to: We will not adopt foster children! When the social worker asked, "What will we do with Rosie?", "We'll keep her...adopt her." came flying out of my mouth before I even realized what I was saying! I have never regretted it.
Once again the question comes around, "What will we do with Rosie?" It would be more accurate to say that Rosie is asking, "What will I do with my life?" There's so much to consider. Obviously money plays a huge part in what direction she will go. College is so expensive and as her father would tell you, he was born good looking instead of rich, so the college of "choice" may not be the college chosen. There is always the sports issue, where can she go to benefit from the sports programs and who can benefit from her skills. What about a music ministry major? Where would be the best place to go to fulfill that calling? And what about mom? Where can Rosie go where mom can still make sure she is fed, clothed and safe? Obviously this entry is to be continued!
We will keep you posted on the Rosie saga. It's sure to be interesting, exciting and inspiring, just like Rosie.
Once again the question comes around, "What will we do with Rosie?" It would be more accurate to say that Rosie is asking, "What will I do with my life?" There's so much to consider. Obviously money plays a huge part in what direction she will go. College is so expensive and as her father would tell you, he was born good looking instead of rich, so the college of "choice" may not be the college chosen. There is always the sports issue, where can she go to benefit from the sports programs and who can benefit from her skills. What about a music ministry major? Where would be the best place to go to fulfill that calling? And what about mom? Where can Rosie go where mom can still make sure she is fed, clothed and safe? Obviously this entry is to be continued!
We will keep you posted on the Rosie saga. It's sure to be interesting, exciting and inspiring, just like Rosie.
Monday, May 12, 2008
Run For The Roses
I'm not a huge fan of horse racing, although I do love horses. But then I've never had to clean out a stall or make sure they have feed and water in -40 F weather. My husband, Tom, owned a horse for many years. Stormy wasn't a race horse but he did chase down a few cows now and then. He definitely had a western attitude and although he allowed the kids to ride him, he was a one man horse. I sat atop of him on occasion but we had an understanding: If you don't buck, I don't scream!!
I just happened to catch the Kentucky Derby a couple of weeks ago. Seeing the horses and hearing the crowds cheering brought up pleasant memories of the movie Sea Biscuit. The movie was such an inspiration to me that I HAD to read the book. It amazed me the way that horse, as mismatched for racing as he was, and despite any handicap they weighted him down with could maintain the desire to take the lead. It was his heart more than his brawn that made him win.
The "run for the roses" ended with the favorite, Big Brown, winning in grand style, but it was the little filly, Eight Belles, that caught my attention. After winning second place, Eight Belles
collapsed on the track and before any accolades were handed her way, was "put down" due to both front ankles being broken. I am not a horse expert by any stretch of the imagination, but I would guess that this must have happened in that last burst of speed that takes place in the last stretch for the finish line. I have read that she was whipped mercilessly by her jockey, that it was sheer cruelty on the part of her owner, trainer and the racing industry as a whole, but in my naivety, I would like to believe her spirit for winning pushed her physical beyond endurance. I would like to believe she gave her all for the prize. Nevertheless, a sad but inspiring story.
I would hope that I can take a lesson from this filly. Take a risk. Wager it all. Run with the big boys and give it all you got!
I just happened to catch the Kentucky Derby a couple of weeks ago. Seeing the horses and hearing the crowds cheering brought up pleasant memories of the movie Sea Biscuit. The movie was such an inspiration to me that I HAD to read the book. It amazed me the way that horse, as mismatched for racing as he was, and despite any handicap they weighted him down with could maintain the desire to take the lead. It was his heart more than his brawn that made him win.
The "run for the roses" ended with the favorite, Big Brown, winning in grand style, but it was the little filly, Eight Belles, that caught my attention. After winning second place, Eight Belles
collapsed on the track and before any accolades were handed her way, was "put down" due to both front ankles being broken. I am not a horse expert by any stretch of the imagination, but I would guess that this must have happened in that last burst of speed that takes place in the last stretch for the finish line. I have read that she was whipped mercilessly by her jockey, that it was sheer cruelty on the part of her owner, trainer and the racing industry as a whole, but in my naivety, I would like to believe her spirit for winning pushed her physical beyond endurance. I would like to believe she gave her all for the prize. Nevertheless, a sad but inspiring story.I would hope that I can take a lesson from this filly. Take a risk. Wager it all. Run with the big boys and give it all you got!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)